Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Perseus Jackson!" the receptionist called into the room.

With a sigh, the young man in question stood up from his seat in the waiting room and went over to him.

"Miss Waybright is ready to see you now, room 3," the receptionist directed.

"Thanks," Percy replied, making his way down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of a wooden door with a 3 engraved into it.

He was really doing this, wasn't he?

A couple days before

"I just cant stand seeing you like this, honey." Sallie said.

"I... i get that, mom." Percy conceded. "And i.. i know i need help. But how could i tell a therapist about. You know. All of that?"

Ever since Annabeth's recent heroic death, he had neglected to eat properly, slept only a couple hours per night and even began to lose muscle mass from the lack of a sparring partner. Well, that's not entirely true. There were many willing sparring partners. Percy just couldn't bring himself to take one up on their offer.

"Hey, i know about 'all that stuff' as you put it, and i'm fine, mortal or not." Sallie argued. "And a therapist, like any medical professional, will hold up doctor-patient confidentiality."

"If they can even focus on me long enough before the mist makes them forget again." Percy bit back bitterly.

"Ok sure, they might not remember the actual details, but i'm sure it'd still help! Oh and can't you, i don't know, ask the god who controls that mist..." "goddess, name's Hecate" "...right, so can't you ask Hecate to do something about that?"

"I could ask Hazel to put a good word in i guess. Also sacrifice a couple snacks to her. If you really think it'll help."

"I do."

"..."

"..."

"..ok."

And that's why he was knocking on the wooden door number 3 right now.

"Come in!" A friendly voice sounded from behind it.

Pushing it open halfway, Percy slipped inside. He was met with a cozy room, walls painted in pastel blue, wooden bookshelves at one corner and a solid wooden desk to the side. A grey carpet covered the floor, and two lounging chairs stood in the middle of the room.

The therapist stood up from behind her desk, notebook in hand, and held out her other one to him. "Nice to meet you. I know we have your legal name, but how should i call you?"

"Just Percy, please," he answered, taking the offered hand and shaking it. It was surprisingly firm.

"Alright Percy, would you want to take a seat?" she asked, gesturing to the comfy looking chairs.

With a nod, he sat down, only for miss Waybright to do so as well. Percy expected her to ask questions, but she simply sat with him in silence. An awkward one, the longer it went on. One Percy decided to break:

"So i know i came here myself, but i'm not sure this is going to work." he voiced his concerns.

"And why is that?" Sasha probed.

"Well... it might be best if i show you." Percy responded.

~~~

That was not what Sasha expected. Doubts in the first session were common. Actually, they were common all throughout the process. But one that could be physically demonstrated, that was new.

The young man, to her surprise, pulled out a ballpoint pen. He held it up demonstratively. Sasha could see nothing out of the ordinary with it, except perhaps the writing in a language foreign to her. And then when Percy turned the cap, it morphed into a bronze sword in front of her eyes.

"Oh." was all that Sasha could say to that.

"You can see that?" Percy asked, surprised.

"How would i miss a magic bronze sword? Like seriously... uh" she quickly interrupted herself, calming down, and laid her gesticulating hands flat into her lap. She took a quick breath through her nose, then continued in a neutral tone:

"Sorry. Yes, i see it. That seems to surprise you. May i ask why?"

~~~

Percy was internally bluescreening. He had expected her to either be unable to see Riptide, or to freak out. Like, way more than that flaccid 'Oh' He was not prepared for this.

"Percy?" came from her, gently.

Oh. He'd zoned out, hadn't he.

"Er, sorry, i just didn't expect that reaction. How are you not freaking out?"

"I've seen, held and used swords before, so nothing unfamiliar. I guess the magic ballpoint pen disguise is cool but otherwise. Nothing to really freak out about."

"Wh... i meant the magic part." he clarified exhasperated.

"Seen that too, so no biggie."

Percy blinked. Then blinked again.

"I'm compelled to ask for context on that one, please." he asked her.

"If you tell me why you believed i wouldn't be able to see it, gladly." she retorted.

"That's a long discussion."

"So is mine."

~~~

"Alright fine, but don't pretend i didn't warn you. Are you religious at all?" the young man relented.

"Not particularly. But the fact that some sort of higher powers exists is a fact to me, so i guess a little?" she answered honestly. The things she had seen in Amphibia, her cool anime powers, Anne coming back to life. She had seen a lot. Denying the existence of the supernatural would border on insanity, at this point.

"Alright then i'll just come out and say it, i'm a demigod." Percy stated. Waiting for her reaction.

"Okay. Go on." she urged him.

"My dad's the greek god Poseidon and i fight monsters... well, used to, on the regular. And there's lots of us Demigods out there. But regular mortals don't usually notice us, because of a magical force called the mist, obscuring us. Or at least, it should. But for some reason, you see everything clearly."

Sasha took a minute to process that. During which, she could see Percy squirming around in his chair, clearly uncomfortable.

She took a breath, then said: "That would explain why you thought this might not work. I presume the reason you're here is something magical, meaning you weren't sure if i could even see or hear about it?"

Percy, visibly relaxed at the silence finally being broken. Then he added: "Or forgot right away. Because that's also a thing the mist does sometimes. I was planning on confronting you with demigod stuff directly until it could no longer hide everything, but i guess i don't need to, do i?"

"The mist makes you amnesiac? Then how come there aren't lots of people missing time, if magic is so common?"

Percy looked puzzled. "I don't actually know. Never thought about it too much."

"Well, that's something for later," Sasha steered the conversation back, "for now, are you comfortable telling me why you've actually come here?"

Percy's face immediately fell.

"I. I lost someone," he muttered quietly.

"Can you tell me about them? Keep in mind that you are allowed to, and if uncomfortable should, say no. I will drop the subject immediately. That goes for all questions i ask, by the way."

"I don't... i can't." Percy stuttered, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Alright, this is the first session anyway, we have all the time we need. How about you tell me a little something about your father, then? Poseidon, was it?"

~~~

Percy was glad for the change in topic. He proceeded to talk about his dad, then the gods, and began talking about camp half-blood, when Sasha looked at her watch, and gently interrupted.

"I really enjoyed our conversation, but I'm afraid we're out of time for today."

"Oh."

"Can i expect to see you again next week, Percy?" she asked as she stood up and motioned for him to do the same. He did. Then contemplated the question. Therapy had been nothing like he thought it would be. So far. But...

"I need help, and you being able to even listen is already more than i could have hoped for." He smiled.

"Yeah, i'll be back next week."

This time, he was the one to offer a handshake. Which miss Waybright took.

"See you next week then, Percy!" she called after him as he left through the door.

Yeah. He'd see her next week.

Chapter Text

As Percy left the door, Sasha slumped back into her desk-chair.

She took a look at the desk in front of her. The letters on the documents blurred together. Yeah, this wasn't happening right now. She neatly put everything away, then got up.

Too preoccupied with how to go about the next session with Percy, she excused herself at the reception desk, and went home. That had been her last appointment for the day anyway, and the paperwork could wait.

It would have to.

----

Arriving back home, she hung her keychain on the hook next to the door, dropped her bag to the floor and stepped into her living room.

Walking over to her computer, she powered it on.

An hour and multiple conflicting greek myths she looked up later, she realized this wasn't going anywhere productive. But she had a different idea.

Picking up her phone, she called one of her old friends from university. The guy sitting next to her in some of the lectures, who had taken history.

A surprised: "Hello, who am i speaking to. Sasha?" later, the questioning began. Sasha felt a little bad for him when she finally hung up and put down the device, only to look outside into the darkness of the night. A glance at her clock revealed it was 9pm already. She had just pestered him about Greek mythology for over 3 and a half hours. Whoops.

Anyway. Now she had a much better overview of the situation Percy was apparently in. While she herself had been a child soldier for a time, at least she got help quickly thereafter. Still, she would be lying if she said she didn't have fond memories of her time in Amphibia.

A small smile crept onto her lips. Well. She may as well indulge in some of these memories.

Pulling open the bottom drawer, she carefully took out a long, thin package wrapped in multiple layers of fabric. Unwrapping it, the sheath was the first thing visible. After freeing her replica heron-styled red sword from its protective shell completely, she partially drew the blade.

And cringed at the scraping sound. Definitely needed to be oiled. Swiping a finger across (not along, she wasn't crazy) the cutting edge, she mentally added a whetstone to the list.

The list she just realized she was making.

Of things to bring for next session, to show Percy she could relate. Because while she had gotten a lot out of him, she was well aware that she avoided telling her own story in return. And she had a feeling Percy would demand answers next time.

~~~

As Percy was walking home, his mind was reeling still. Miss Waybright was able to see and remember. Clear Sighted, like mom. Which he thanked Hecate for, whether she was responsible for it or not. Anyway, that didn't mean the therapist had context. At least, not enough. His explanation was cut short by the time limit, after all.

Then, stopping mid walk, he suddenly realized: "Hey wait. She never told me her own story!"

~~~

As the evening teetered out into the night, Sally Jackson laid in bed, a small hopeful smile on her lips. Percy had returned, and broken the great news to her that the therapist was Clear Sighed. And apparently she had some magic experience too? Percy had been pretty clear about it. Namely, about how Miss Waybright hadn't. Been clear, that is.

Well, Sally was just happy that her son was finally going to get some help.

The mighty eagle soared across the skies, when its feathers were prickled by a traitorous smell. Familiar but off, like the one daily-feast-prisoner-tasty-liver it used to know. But not quite. Instead of fire-lightning-ozone, the new one smelled of fire-muscle-burning. But still, fire. Divine fire, not the usual. Fire that should not be in mortal hands.

The eagle, following the stench, veered off. Tail angled, eyes fixated on the horizon, it let out a screech. Satisfied, when it could smell the fear of the simple-animal-forest-dwellers below.

As it neared the source of the smell, a few other notes mixed into it. Demigod stench, though faint, not fresh. The aforementioned divine fire, a distinct lack of ozone or ash. And also, as an after-note, the smell of... Cat? No, not quite. Of course, the numerous smells of a city, but it didn't care about those much.

Could it have scrunched its beak, it would have. Because Cat smelled wrong. Power, divine, but off. Different. Murky, humid. Slimy. Not bronze and sky and lightning, instead moss and mud and searing light.

Sasha startled awake. What. Was that? That screech. Getting up and opening her window, she peered outside. Nobody else was up, most lights were out. Did nobody but her hear that?

The only thing in the streets below to take notice of was the thin layer of mist clinging to the sidewalk. That's weird. It didn't rain recently. Nor was it all that cold tonight.

So where was that mist... mist. Sasha's eyes shot open completely.

Uh oh. She really, really hoped her intuition was wrong. Just in case, though, she went to her bottom drawer, and once again pulled out her heron sword replica. She had it made two years ago, when she had started in her job. To remind her what she was doing, what kind of people she would be helping. Kids in tough spots. Like she used to be.

Outside, she could hear rhythmic whooshing. A sound that she'd heard before. Not quite the same, but she was taken back to a grimy cell, as a teenager. When a giant bird flapped its wings close by, shortly before its beak broke through the wall. A look at the sky revealed a winged form, circling above. Oh no, not in her apartment, thank you! Sasha quickly put on boots, and threw a jacket over herself, before hurrying outside. She might not have the time to get dressed completely, so pajama pants would have to do.

But there was no way she would let some oversized Greek magic bird with a complex destroy her apartment.

Stepping out into the street, the mist pooled around Sasha's feet, clinging to them as if to hug her ankles. She ignored it. Instead, opting to get it over with, she cupped her hands to her face, and shouted: "Hey, ugly chicken! Come down here, and let's get this over with already! I don't have all night!"

She was answered by a shriek, and saw the bird dive toward the street. Toward her.

Tons of advice from Grime replayed in her head at this moment. She took a deep breath. Drawing her blade, she went into a fighting stance, awaiting the bird.

As it swooped above her, she ducked down to avoid the talons, but thrust her sword upward at the same time.

While she did manage to dodge the attack, she also felt no resistance against the blade, meaning she didn't get off her own attack either. Did she miss?

The giant bird was turning around to face her again. Sasha noted the differences between it and the herons. This bird was more of a falcon or eagle of some kind, with leaner wings and a short, curved beak, also shorter legs in comparison to the amphibivorous birds the therapist was familiar with.

As Sasha repositioned herself, holding up her sword, the vapor from the ground pooled around the blade. It wasn't much, and didn't impair Sasha's ability to see, but it was certainly odd.

All this damn magic and god and monster stuff, she really wished she still had her cool anime powers from back at the battle with the core. Those would make this so much easier.

As the bird came rushing at her again, the young woman failed to notice the slight red sheen on her sword. She was too busy swinging it, sidestepping the sharp beak biting at her, and this time finally managing to clip a couple feathers off its wing. The monster screeched in pain.

"Take that, birdbrain," Sasha taunted. Birdbrain? Really? Man, her trash-talk was getting rusty.

Apparently, the bird didn't care. Again and again, it made fly-by attacks, missing the frantically dodging Sasha by a hair, who in turn only managed to clip it with her sword. But she was getting tired. The eagle appeared to have no such weakness.

She was out of breath, and regretting her decision to go outside more and more by the minute. That didn't mean she'd give up though, fat chance! Gritting her teeth, Sasha got up once again, sword now noticeably shimmering red. She noticed it this time, but filed it away for later. She had a bird's wings to clip here.

Had there been a mirror, Sasha could have noticed her own, red shimmering eyes as well, but there wasn't. So she didn't.

The Eagle did, though. Fire-muscle-burning scent was getting stronger. Smell of Cat and mud and dew and searing light mixed with sweat and another dew, a different dew. It couldn't allow the thief to use the fire, it had to end this. This time, it jumped upward, flapping its wings only once to gain some height, then swooped straight down onto it's prey, attempting to crush it under its weight.

As the human rolled to the side, thwarting it's attack, then returning to plunge her blade into the eagle's side, the world went black. It could feel itself falling apart into dust. Shortly before it would awaken in the stinking-pit-down-rebirth, it realized a smell was missing. The smell of deceit. The fire smelled not a whiff of theft, it smelled of Gift.

And with that final stroke of the sword, Sasha watched as the bird disintegrated into inert dust around her blade. Sasha didn't move. Shocked, frozen, she stood there, sword still raised, processing what just happened.

The red sheen on the blade began to fade, and mist came pouring off from the metal. At the interchange behind her, Sasha could hear the clicking of shoes against the pavement.

Whirling around, she could spot a woman, veiled in the mist. While it had clung to Sasha's feet and sword, it practically swirled all around the lady, blurring her features. Behind the lady, to her feet, she could make out a small form. Then she heard the mewing. The lady in the mist bent down to pet the cat, who turned it's head to look at Sasha. One of it's eyes glowed bright pink for a second, before the color seeped out into the mist around it.

As if nothing had happened, the cat then walked to the side, across the road and out of sight.

Sasha lowered her sword slightly, but kept a firm grip on it. "Okay, what's going on, and who are you?"

"No 'thank you for helping me'?" the lady asked.

Sasha approached the crossroads. "Perhaps i would, if i knew who you were. Are you in charge of this mist thingy? Like, a goddess or something?" The therapist felt stupid asking, but what else was she to assume.

In response, she received a good natured laughter back.

"Indeed i am," the lady confirmed. "And you, Sasha Waybright, champion of Strength, are at a crossroads in your life. You have crossed paths with a whole new world, and it is your choice. Do you turn and follow the new road, or do you continue on your own, old path."

"You're not talking about the street here, are you?" Sasha asked.

A sly smile in response. Of course she wasn't. Figures goddesses would be frogging cryptics.

"Look lady, my path takes me wherever it takes me. And if i have to make a detour, so be it. Frog knows I've had one massive detour already, what's one crazy new world more."

"I thought you might say that. That is why i arranged for that meeting just now, allowing your paths to cross once more."

"You sent the bird after me?" Sasha complained, then realized: "Wait no, that cat. That's who you meant, right?"

"Indeed."

"Anne told me about the space cat thing, was that... her? It?"

"In a sense. You have not walked it's path for a while, but i can always arrange a little crossover when needed."

"Crossroads, crossroads... wait, you're Hecate, right? I read about you yesterday."

The brow of the goddess furrowed. "Do not take names lightly, Sasha. They have power, and they leave a trace. I would assume since nobody else will teach you, i should be the one to tell you not to research anything from my world alone, unproteced. It will draw creatures, monsters like that one toward you."

"What, so me googling stuff is why i'm in this mess? Seriously?"

"Yes." That was a surprisingly straightforward answer for once.

"Huh."

"Anyway, with this gift from your old friend delivered and your choices laid out to you, i will bid my adieu."

"Wait, one last question please!" Sasha held the goddess up before she could walk into the mist and disappear on her.

"What is it?"

"Your mist. Per... Uhm, i was told it made people forget things. But that didn't make sense. What actually happens there?"

"Oh it doesn't make anyone forget. It prevents you from even committing anything to memory in the first place."

"So it dissociates you?" Sasha asked, but received no answer anymore. The goddess was gone. The mist slowly receded. Until finally, Sasha stood at the intersection all alone, sword in hand, terrible bed-hair and still in her pajama pants after all of that. The pants had a couple holes now. The cool night air on her bare skin made the therapist aware of them. She'd have to get a new set. The night sky, devoid of stars due to light pollution, hung above Sasha. Her muscles were sore, she was tired. She should go home.

What had she been doing here again? Oh right, the giant eagle. The fight had taken her into a neighboring street, so Sasha went toward home, turning at the corner and taking the crossroad up to her doorstep.