Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Some shifts are particularly busy, others are particularly… not-so – not that anyone would dare utter the q-word. Today’s shift is neither, one of the shifts where no one would ever comment on the pace, because “wow, what an average shift” just isn’t a comment anyone ever utters.

Instead, they’re talking about this and that. Eddie and Hen are over on the couches, setting up a sleepover for the kids. Chim is sitting at the kitchen island, tapping away on his phone and intermittently asking Buck for his opinion on a birthday gift for Maddie. Buck and Bobby, meanwhile, are preparing lunch.

The casserole has just gone in the oven, Buck is chopping away at a side salad while Bobby starts putting away leftover ingredients.

The guy coming up the stairs looks to be about Buck’s age and might just be one of the most attractive people Buck has ever seen. Listen, he lives in LA – Buck has seen plenty of people who are tan and muscular. He’s best friends with Eddie – he feels like he should be used to tousled black hair and a beaming smile.

Tall, smiley and handsome approaches Hen and Eddie on the couches. “Hi, I’m looking for Captain Nash? The guy downstairs sent me up here.” He waves a vague hand towards the lower level where other members of their shift are busying themselves until lunch is ready.

“Over in the kitchen,” Hen offers easily, pointing one thumb over her shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Buck allows himself a second to appreciate the guy’s looks.

His black hair is just long enough to stick up in every which direction. His eyes are a piercing green, gaze jumping through the loft from one place to the next. He’s fit, but not the wide frame Buck and Eddie have. His is a leaner build, an athlete’s body. His dark shirt stretches over a well-defined chest, long legs sticking out of a pair of shorts. He’s tall, only an inch or two shorter than Buck himself. One arm flexes as he shifts the large bag he’s carrying higher on his shoulder.

He quickly looks over the three men in the kitchen before his gaze comes to rest on Bobby. “Hi, I’m Percy Jackson, looking for Captain Nash.”

“Percy, good to finally meet you.” Bobby smiles, easy and genuine. Hen and Eddie, curious and not at all subtle about it are already walking over to see what’s going on. Bobby walks around the kitchen island, offers a hand to shake. “You can call me Bobby.” He turns to the rest of the team. “Everyone, this is Percy Jackson, our newest member.”

Buck’s gaze jumps over to Eddie, who’s already looking back at him with surprise on his face. Hen is having a similar exchange with Chim, but is the first to catch herself and remember her manners.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Hen.”

The introductions go over quickly. Percy has a firm handshake, a smile on his face that never wavers and an intensity in his eyes that is just this side of unsettling.

“You didn’t mention we’d be getting someone new,” Hen says as all hands have been shaken. Buck is grateful for it, because the “what do we need him for?” that had already been fighting its way past his teeth would have come out more confrontational than intended.

Bobby just grins back at her. “Well, with A d dams retiring next month, we needed someone new. And when Percy’s resume came across my desk, I thought he’d fit well at the 118.”

Something in the phrasing of that… “So, you’re not straight off the academy?”

Percy shakes his head. “No, I’m a transfer. Just moved to LA from New York a few weeks ago. Been working with the NYFD for almost three years.”

Before they can pester him with any follow-up questions, Bobby holds up a hand. “Why don’t I show you around, show you where you can get changed and all that? The f ood is going to be ready in twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Bobby looks over at Buck, a silent question if he’s good with taking on the remaining kitchen duties on his own. As if Bobby hasn’t been teaching him to cook for years and all that’s left to do is the salad, anyway.

As the two of them walk away and down the stairs, Eddie takes up the space next to Buck, picks up where Bobby left off. At least, he tries.

Hen’s grinning at Buck. Before she even says anything, Buck knows there’s some teasing coming his way. “So, Buck. Are you gonna go all territorial on this one, too?”

From over at the fridge, Eddie snorts. “Because that worked out so well last time?”

Buck can’t find it in himself to be insulted by any of it. “First of all,” he says, bumping his shoulder into Eddies, as his best friend puts some bell peppers for the salad down on the counter, “I’d say this worked out fine. Besides, I’m self-aware enough by now to not go into a bi panic every time I see a guy I find hot.”

By the time the casserole is done, the salad is ready and the table is set. The rest of the shift has settled in around the tables. Percy – changed into his LAFD uniform – takes a seat next to Hen, just as Bobby starts dishing out food.

“This looks great,” he says as he takes his plate. “Thank you.” There is some lingering confusion on his face.

They dig in, conversations flowing here and there until Eddie addresses Percy and the conversations around them taper out. “So, what made you move to LA? Weather in New York to cold for you?”

Percy shakes his head. “Nah, weather was all fine. My wife got a job opportunity she couldn’t pass up.”

He says it like it was an easy decision, to pack up his entire life and move all the way to the other side of the country.

“You’re married?” Chim asks.

Percy nods. “Yeah. Twelve years next August.”

Hen whistles through her teeth. “You must’ve gotten married young, then.”

Across from Buck, Eddie looks less impressed by the fact, more thoughtful. Buck knows that expression. He’s thinking about Shannon.

But Percy just shrugs, like that, too, had been an easy decision. “Yeah, well. We’d been together for a few years by then, anyway. Childhood sweethearts and all that.”

Just as Chim opens his mouth to ask something else, the bell goes off, cutting the conversation short.

T he multi-car pileup they are called out to keeps them busy for the next couple of hours. Two of the victims are DOA, a third passes en route to the hospital. It’s far from the first time something like that happens, but it brings the mood down all the same.

They’re all kept busy throughout the call, Bobby sending them here and there whenever a task is done. He partners Buck up with Percy to cut an older woman out of her car while Eddie checks on the man at the other side of the vehicle. Percy is attentive, his movements deliberate and sure. He might not have trained at the same academy as the rest of them, but it’s clear he has the years of experience to make up for any differences.

By the time they’re back at the station, it’s time for dinner, but nobody is really up for food. Bobby announces that he’ll take them off rotation for a bit and to hit the bunks. When Buck falls asleep, Percy is in the bed across from him. When he wakes from a bad dream too hazy to remember any details, the b e d is empty.

He finds Percy up in the loft, sitting on one of the couches. The TV is running, the narrator of some documentary talking about the breeding patterns of birds.

“Did you know that the reason Flamingos are pink is that they eat crustaceans? They carry pigments called carotenoids and when Flamingos eat enough of them, their feathers turn pink. The fledgelings are grey.”

Percy startles at the sound of Buck voice, watches as he sinks down onto the other couch.

“Yeah, but those pigments are also in dunaliella, which is a kind of algae wild flamingos eat.”

The sentence comes out of left field, and Buck can’t help but grin. He wiggles himself up, more sitting than lying on the couch now. He’s used to fond eye rolls as a response to his fun facts, loving reaction s to a quirk his friends have gotten used to. But someone replying to him in kind is new.

“Did you know that a group of standing flamingos is called a stand, while a group of dancing flamingos is called a flamboyance?”

Percy reciprocates the smile. “I did not know that! Wait. What are they called when in flight?” He looks softer like that, in this liminal time between night and day. When he smiles, his eyes crinkle with it.

“I don’t actually know. Probably a flock?”

Percy utters an agreeable hum. “Did you know that crabs as well as lobsters sense the world through hairs on their body? They’re sensitive to touch, sound, smell, taste, odour and temperature.”

They go back and forth like that until Chimney ambles up the stairs, over into the kitchen where he complains that neither of them made coffee yet while starting a pot himself . “Why are you even up th is early?” he asks, nudging Buck’s feet aside so he can sit on the couch next to him.

“Bad dream,” Buck offers.

Chim flinches. They’ve known each other long enough to know what mines lie in their respective pasts, that each of them have been through enough shit in their lifetimes to warrant material for many a nightmare. Buck’s doing therapy, though. It’s fine. He’s dealing with it.

Chim turns his attention to Percy.

While the man had been perfectly relaxed while swapping fun facts about crustaceans and birds respectively, Percy’s shoulders have gone stiff, his posture suddenly more guarded. “Don’t sleep well in strange places,” he hedges right in time for Hen to come up the stairs and join them.

“But you did 24 hour shifts in New York?” Mother Hen that she is, she’s immediately concerned.

It’s more attention on a topic Percy doesn’t seem comfortable with than is probably advisable for not even knowing each other for a whole day. But that’s just how they are. Getting into each other’s business.

“I don’t need that much sleep, anyway. I’m perfectly fine staying up for 24 hours,” Percy hedges. It’s not really an answer, not necessarily a viable solution on the long term. But it’s also clear that he doesn’t really want to talk about it.

They all look at him sceptically, but ultimately decide not to press the issue.

“What are you watching?” Hen asks instead, turning to the TV.

And they hadn’t been watching , not really. Not since the bird documentary had turned into reruns of some cop show which then had turned into reruns of a sitcom. Neither Buck nor Percy had turned the TV off, though, leaving it on as background noise.

“Do you think Maddie would like to go to the filming of that sitcom she likes?” Chim asks as no answer is fothcoming, contemplating the screen in front of them.

“Maddie?” Percy asks, clearly trying to remember if she’s a member of the team and if he should remember her name.

“My sister, his wife,” Buck quickly fills him in. “I don’t know. Might be hard with Yee-Jun, don’t you think? And if you’re going for a romantic day just the two of you, I’m always happy to take her. But I’m not sure if she’d appreciate a day of sitting indoors at a studio a good date.”

Chim lets out a long sigh. “You’re right. I’ll think of something else.”

Over in the kitchen, the coffee maker beeps as it finishes and Chim gets up, heads over. He returns a few minutes later with four cups of coffee, the sugar pot precariously balanced on one wrist, carton of oat milk under one arm. He sets it all down on the small table, puts some milk in one of the cups, takes a sip and leans back into the couch.

Buck grabs another cup, drinks it black, watches as Hen puts sugar in hers. He nudges Percy’s foot with his. “Last one’s yours,” he says.

Percy raises his brows, looks at the coffee, over at Chim. “Oh. Uhm… Thanks, but I don’t drink coffee.”

“You’ve been awake all night, and you don’t even want coffee to get you through the next few hours?”

Percy shrugs, a little awkward. “Doesn’t mix well with my ADHD.”

By the time Eddie comes up the stairs a few minutes later, the conversation has shifted to some game show. Buck adds some sugar and some milk to the remaining cup of coffee and holds it out for Eddie to grab as he draws near. Eddie accepts it with a smile, takes a sip and mouths a “thank you” in Buck’s direction as he sits down next to Hen.

They get called out again not too long after that, a medical emergency that ends with Hen and Chim taking the ambulance to the hospital and has the rest of the team returning to the station just in time for the end of the shift.

They pile into the locker room to get changed and Buck very adamantly does not look at Percy shirtless right next to him. It’s Percy’s first day here, he’s married and either way, it would be inappropriate in the workplace. It’s not like Buck isn’t well used to not ogling too attractive co-workers.

Eddie bumps their shoulders together as they head to the cars. “You coming over for dinner and a movie tonight?”

Buck laughs at the phrasing. “That almost sounds like a date.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “If it were a date, I wouldn’t make you cook, and it wouldn’t include my teenaged son.”

“Touché. I’ll be there around six. Do we need anything from the grocery store?”

“Buck, we both know you know my fridge better than I do.”

“I’ll get carrots. We can make lasagne.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Chapter Text

The day starts off hectic and Eddie doesn’t like it.

It starts with Chris being moody (everyone has the right to be, now and again, but Chris tends to take longer than usual for most of everything when he’s in a mood) and the morning goes downhill from there.

Eddie is out of coffee – Buck might know the contents of his fridge inside and out, but morning coffee doesn’t belong to their usual routine, so Buck didn’t pay attention to it and neither did Eddie. The milk has gone bad and Chris loudly and lengthy bemoans the fact that he has to eat toast for breakfast even though he wanted cereal.

He gets Chris to school just in the nick of time, but then has to hit up a gas station and subsequentially gets stuck in traffic on his way to work. It’s fifteen minutes past the beginning of their shift when Eddie finally pulls into the parking lot of the station.

He heads inside, wants nothing more than to get changed and find Bobby so he can grovel for being late, when his gaze catches on the gym. Or rather, catches on Buck and Percy in the gym.

Buck’s lifting weights, the big ones even Evan “safety is for other people” Buckley doesn’t use without having someone spot him. Percy stands next to him (where Eddie usually stands) and chatters away. Buck’s face is flushed red, but it’s hard to tell if it’s a workout-blush or if something else is going on there.

“Eddie. Everything alright?” Bobby is stepping out from behind the ladder truck. The expression on his face is teetering between concerned and admonishing, waiting for an answer to make his decision.

“Yes. Sorry I’m late. This morning just was against me.”

Bobby’s face softens. “It’s fine, nothing happened yet. Go get changed.”

Eddie doesn’t have to be told twice, quickly gets into uniform and up the stairs to get some much needed coffee. If he can’t see the workout area from his perch at the kitchen island, that’s a complete coincidence.

He sips his coffee, pulls out his phone, pulls up the New York Times website.

Feeling Blue

           by Sally Blofis

 

I had to say goodbye to my son Blue.

Not like that, don’t worry. He’s alive, he’s fine. He’s great, even.

It’s just that he moved to the other side of the country. And I fully encouraged it.

When Blue was first born, I had many worries. What if I was a bad parent? I already knew his father would be an absent one. What if something happened to him and I couldn’t protect him from it? The world is a scary place, after all. What if he’d grow up to hate me for all the choices I made on his behalf and mine? I sure did some more than questionable things to bring him up.

What I somehow never wondered about was the question: What if – in the grand scheme of things – everything works out well? What if my kid grows up to be an amazing person, has a loving wife, amazing children of his own, a fulfilling job; what if he loves me and tells me he loves me and then still moves away?

I got the answer to that one, now, even as I struggle finding the words.

Blue isn’t the best at metaphors. He’d probably say that it’s a double-edged sword. That loving means letting go, means leaving and still returning to each other.

His father might say it’s like the tide. That things come and go and we have to reckon with the consequences - but that life is circular, and the good things will return if we give them time. (I could make an argument that I waited over a decade for him and he didn’t return, but I digress…)

My husband is the one who actually teaches English. But he has no metaphor to offer. He offers his shoulder for me to cry on, his ear to listen. He tells me that Blue will be back and to think about all the adventures he’s going to have.

If you ask me, he’s had enough adventures to last more than one lifetime already.

But that just means that he’s well prepared for this next one, doesn’t it?

I hope he is. I hope that he meets amazing people, that he loves his job, that him and his family are forever happy and surrounded by love and luck and everything good.

And I hope he comes to visit soon. Because I’ll miss him every moment he isn’t here.

I love you, Blue. Stay safe out there.

“What are you reading?” Chim asks, plopping down on the seat next to Eddie with a coffee of his own.

Eddie shows him the screen. “It’s a column for the New York Times. One of the PTA moms recommended it to me. Just this woman talking about her life with her kids. It’s written well enough and gives me something to talk about during pick-up, you know?”

Chimney snorts, eyes flying over the words on the screen. “Mind if I send myself the link?”

“Knock yourself out.”

By the time Percy and Buck come bounding up the stairs, Eddie is on his second cup of coffee. Buck prepares himself a cup while Percy gets some juice out of the fridge. Doesn’t even drink coffee like the rest of them.

“Hey, you alright?” Buck asks, voice low, as he slides into the seat next to Eddie.

“I’m fine,” Eddie says, and it’s almost the truth. Things already seem a bit brighter now that Buck is at his side. “Just had an off morning.”

“Oh. Chris alright?”

And how did he deserve a best friend like Evan Buckley? “Yeah, he was just grumpy today and everything took about twice as long as it should have.”

Buck’s snort lacks humour. “Yeah, I know how he gets. You want me to take him to the science museum on Sunday, give you the day off? I was planning on asking him anyway, they’ve got a new exhibit.”

“Sounds great.”

“You talking about the historic marine life exhibit?” Percy asks, leaning on the counter across from them.

Buck blinks, a bit perplexed. “Yeah. You’ve heard of it?”

“Heard of it? I’ve been there, like, three times already.”

“Didn’t it only open, like, a month ago?” Buck asks.

Percy shrugs, happy and unconcerned. “Well, my kids yet lack the attention span to take it all in one go.”

Buck’s smile gets impossibly wider. “You’ve got kids? I love kids.”

Percy beams back, pulls his phone out and slides it over the counter without even turning it on. He’s got one of those custom-made covers, with a picture on the back showing three kids. The girl in the middle seems to be the oldest, blonde curls framing a round face. She’s smiling, has her arms thrown around the shoulders of the two kids on either side of her. They’re both some years younger, with identical wild black hair that reaches just beyond their shoulders.

“Zoe is seven, the twins – Tessa and Benji – are four.”

“They’re adorable,” Buck says and Eddie can’t help but agree.

Percy grins back. “I know. They’re my world.”

And maybe – maybe it’s hard to hold a grudge against Percy when the guy visibly melts as he talks about his kids.

“Either of you got kids? I know Chim has Yee-Jun, but other than that…”

Buck knocks his knee against Eddie’s under the counter, leaves it there as a warm point of contact. Eddie pulls out his phone, shows Percy his background picture. “This is Chris. He’s thirteen.”

He braces himself for the concerned look, the questions about the crutches. But Percy’s smile stays wide and genuine and unconcerned. “Cute.” And that’s that. Eddie smiles back, a small thing that is still held down by a hectic morning, but inevitable once someone compliments his kid.

By the time the bell rings for the first time this shift, Eddie’s second coffee is gone, Hen has confirmed she and Karen will pick up Chris on Friday for the sleepover at the Wilson house and Chim has run three suggestions for a birthday present past the group that have all been met with resounding scepticism.

They pull up to a small house in a residential area with an overly familiar police car already parked out front.

Rushing inside, they’re met with none other than Athena Grant, pressing down on the stab wound of a woman on the ground while a raging man is cuffed to the radiator in the next room. Hen and Chim hurry to Athena’s side, gently nudging her out of the way while they start calling out assessments.

It’s not too bad from the sounds of it and Eddie resigns himself to waiting until he’s needed to lift the woman onto the stretcher.

Athena ignores the man in the next room – probably the one responsible for the wound they’re here to treat – for the moment and comes over to greet the rest of the group while the paramedics do their job.

“Captain Nash,” she says, that tiny smile playing around her mouth that says that as much as she loves her husband, she’s going to remain professional at the scene of a crime, in front of people not their family.

“Sargent Grant,” Bobby replies, the very same look on his face, not hidden quite as well. “What happened here?”

Athena waves a dismissive hand in the vague direction of the man the radiator currently has in custody. “He disagreed with the way she made scrambled eggs.”

“Kind of an overreaction if you ask me,” Percy mutters. Athena’s attention immediately snaps over to him.

“And you are?”

Bobby runs a hand down Athena’s arm, the movement hidden from anyone’s sight but Eddie’s. “This is Percy Jackson, our new recruit.” The rigidity seeps out of her as Bobby talks. “Percy, this is my wife, Sargeant-”

“Eddie, Percy, we’re ready for the stretcher,” Hen’s words cut the introduction short.

“Nice to meet you,” Percy says with a quick smile, then hurries over to take care of the stretcher.

After the stabbing, there is an arm stuck in a pipe, an overdose on cocaine and a fender-bender that leaves the driver in a bit of a shock but otherwise unharmed.

Bobby takes them off rotation so they can have lunch, gets some sauce going while Buck cooks pasta and chops salad and by the time Eddie is done restocking the ambulance with Hen, the food is almost on the table.

Between bites, Percy surmises what he knows of his co-workers. “So, you’re married to the cop from earlier, you’re married to Buck’s sister and have a child around my twins’ age.” He points with his fork, first at Booby, then at Chimney. Then, he turns his attention to Buck and Eddie. “Neither of you are in relationships and you’ve got Chris.” The phrasing doesn’t really show if Percy thinks they’re raising Chris together, but it doesn’t really matter, either way. Finally, Percy’s attention lands on Hen. “What about you? I feel like I know very little about you.”

Hen eats another bite of the pasta. “I’m married with two kids. Danny is fourteen, Mara is nine. My wife Karen is just about the most intelligent person I know.”

For half a moment, they brace for the off chance of a homophobic comment. But instead, Percy just raises a hand for a fist-bump. “Honestly? Same. Annabeth is so much smarter than I am.”

Hen bumps his fist with hers good-naturedly. “We should get them together sometime, then.”

Percy grins. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Not into the jewellery, though?” Chim asks, wiggling his ring finger that shows the golden band Maddie put there not too long ago. Sure, he takes it off when out on the field, but during downtime, or off shift, Chim wears his wedding band proudly.

“I’d just loose it and our job isn’t exactly conducive to that kind of thing, is it?” Percy runs his thumb over the ringless finger. “Plus, it’s not like I don’t have a ring.”

And now that he mentions it, now that attention is called to it, Eddie sees it. Percy is tan, but there, on his left ring finger, is a darker band, a tattoo that encircles the finger. A mark in his skin where a wedding band would sit.

Hen reaches over, grabs his hand, pulls it closer for inspection. “What does it say? I can’t read it.”

Percy lets her turn his hand this way and that. “It’s Ancient Greek for ‘together’ and our wedding date.”

“That’s very sweet,” Bobby says with a smile.

“Why Ancient Greek, though?” Chim asks.

Percy finally takes his hand back from Hen, shoves another forkful of pasta into his mouth before answering. “The summer camp we met at taught it. It kind of became our thing.”

The afternoon comes with a child stuck atop his parents’ roof, a small kitchen fire and a group of teenagers drunk off their asses after a shared bottle of Tequila.

It’s busywork, mostly, and Eddie wishes they’d either get a case that gets his adrenaline going or the go-ahead to get some hours of sleep. Instead, he calls Christopher while on the way back to the station to hear about his day. Listening to his kid is better than any medicine, than any cup of coffee. Tia Pepa finally calls Chris for dinner and they hang up, just as the engine pulls into the bay.

They have dinner, get called out for another medical emergency and then Bobby takes them off rotation. They won’t get the full night to rest – they never do - but they take what they can get when it’s so freely offered.

Eddie is out as soon as his head hits the pillow.

When he wakes up, Percy’s bunk is notably empty. He remembers Buck telling him that Percy didn’t sleep at all during their last shift, either. And sure, Eddie could turn around, could take another few hours of sleep and let their newest member stew in whatever misery he brought with him from New York.

But here at the 118, they’re family, and people rarely let Eddie stew in all the misery he brought over from Texas or the other side of the Atlantic.

He finds Percy, oddly enough, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor in front of the oven with his phone in his lap. His face is scrunched up in concentration as his gaze keeps jumping from his phone to the oven in front of him.

“You good down there?”

Percy whips his head around. When he spots Eddie next to the kitchen island, he slowly gets to his feet, runs a hand over his face. “I was trying to decipher the secrets of time and telemetry.”

Eddie’s not awake enough for this. “Come again?”

“Instruction manual.” He wiggles the phone in his hand. “Was hoping this thing can be remote controlled or put on a timer. Annabeth showed me how the one at home works, but this one is newer and I don’t quite understand it.”

Eddie checks the coffee pot which is as unsurprisingly as it is unfortunately empty. “And the instruction manual doesn’t say anything about it?” he asks while weighing if he should start a pot or wait until later.

“I’m not sure. I only found a poor quality scan of the manual online that’s barely readable.”

Eddie walks over to one of the cupboards. On the top shelf, next to the fancy olive oil Bobby rarely uses and some spices that were used exactly once before being deemed unnecessary or unpalatable, are a bunch of manuals for various kitchen appliances. It doesn’t take long to find the one for the oven and hand it to Percy.

It doesn’t feel like Eddie is going to bed again any time soon. He gets a pot of coffee going.

When the coffee maker is happily gurgling away, Eddie turns back to Percy. He’s standing there with the manual open to the table of contents, forehead screwed up, finger inching slowly over the words in front of him.

“You good?” Eddie asks, for the second time this night.

Percy looks up at him, a defeated look on his face. “Yeah. I’m just too tired to read right now.”

“You should go hit the bunks.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Percy meets Eddie’s look for a long minute, then deflates. “Really, I’m not even that tired. It’s just that I’m not too good with…” He trails off, then squares his shoulders, starts again. “I’m dyslexic. Most of the time, I can power through with some frustration and enough time. But right now, none of the letters seem to stay where they’re supposed to be for long enough to make out words.”

Eddie grabs the manual, opens it to the table of contents. It sits there in stark contrast, black on white, still as the night and unmoving. “8.4 _ Timer” is listed under “8 _ special functions” on page 46. Eddie thumbs through to the referenced page.

“Why are you trying to get this thing on a timer, anyway?”

“Usually, as soon as I put something into the oven, I kind of forget it exists. Out of sight, out of mind, you know?” Percy scratches his ear. “And even if I set a timer with a note on my phone, I don’t always immediately go and follow up on it. But, if I put the oven on a timer, it shuts off on its own, my food doesn’t burn and I never have to respond to a kitchen fire I accidentally set myself. Again.”

“Again?” Eddie laughs at the flush on Percy’s cheeks.

“I was called in to cover a shift short-notice and had cookies in the oven. By the time the smoke detectors went off, I was already at the station. Imagine my surprise when the captain briefed us and rattled off the address to my apartment.”

“Did they ever let you live it down?”

Percy snorts. “What do you think?”

What Eddie thinks is that Percy is actually a pretty decent guy. He’s easy-going and if Buck likes spending time with him, it’s not like Eddie can’t see where he’s coming from.

He turns his attention back to the booklet in his hands. “Here it is. So, you have to turn the left knob to get to the settings…”

By the time Bobby comes into the loft, the entire station is smelling like cinnamon rolls and coffee. He pours himself a cup, peers into the oven and then leans against the counter to face Percy and Eddie. He doesn’t say anything, just stands there, sips his coffee and waits them out.

Percy, even though he can’t seem to stand still if his life depended on it, doesn’t seem to have a problem with the silent treatment. Eddie breaks first.

“Percy made cinnamon rolls,” he offers, obvious as the statement may be. “I made coffee.”

“I see that. Any reason in particular?”

“Since when do I need a reason for coffee?”

Bobby doesn’t roll his eyes, but the quirk of his eyebrow reveals just how much he wants to.

“I wanted to test out the timer on the oven,” Percy offers.

Bobby looks at the oven, back at Percy. “So? Does it work?”

“We’ll know in-” Percy picks up his phone, checks the timer on it- “two minutes.”

“I’ll wait with baited breath.”

Two minutes later, the oven chimes twice, then shuts off, only the lights remaining on. The cinnamon rolls inside are a nice golden brown.

Buck is ecstatic when he appears a few minutes later to find baked goods, Chimney is more glad about the coffee than the cinnamon rolls but takes one either way. Hen takes a bite out of her cinnamon roll, closes her eyes for a moment. “If your wife married you for these cinnamon rolls alone, I would understand it,” she says. It’s not the cleanest compliment, but it’s a compliment all the same.

They ride the high of coffee and cinnamon rolls for the rest of the shift, through an incident with a curling iron and helping the police out with crowd control until they can get more officers on the scene of a crime.

By the time B shift shows up to relieve them from their duties, Percy has a second batch of cinnamon rolls done and Eddie has all but forgotten what his hang-up with the guy was.

Chapter Text

In a stroke of supernatural luck and dedicated planning, Chimney and Maddie both have the entire weekend off work. Jee-Yun has a playdate with a girl from daycare, but otherwise, the entire weekend tempts with free time and good weather, nothing to bring down the mood.

Nothing, that is, until Stacey’s mother calls early in the morning with an apology that she forgot another engagement (“you know how it is, I feel like I’m managing a football league instead of four children”). And Jee loves daycare, and she loves playing with the kids there, but she also was looking forward to showing off the glow-in-the-dark puzzle Buck had gotten her a week back. Which means there is a tantrum incoming if they don’t get another four-year-old here over the course of the day for Jee-Yun to play with. So, like the sensible adult he is, Chimney gets his phone and starts calling people.

He gets two more apologetic refusals for playdates this particular Saturday until the fourth parent he calls blurts out “It’s Marlon’s birthday party today. Isn’t Jee-Yun coming?”

She isn’t, mainly because she hasn’t been invited. By the way the previous conversations had gone, the other parents had known, too. Chim is angry at the other parents, to allow his kid to be left out, to scorn her for some reason or other.

Sure, he knows that some children just don’t klick, knows that no kid can invite everyone from childcare to every party. But he’s still angry at the other parents for not telling him from the beginning.

More than that, though, he’s devastated for his daughter. For being left out, for having her plans cancelled, for not having anyone to show her puzzle to.

His phone pings with an incoming message in the 118 group chat. It’s just Buck, sending a link to some book or other he’d been talking about with Percy and Hen last shift.

Percy almost immediately thumbs-ups the message.

Without thinking about it too much, Chim taps on Percy’s name, pulls up the blank conversation thread with his newest co-worker.

Percy Jackson (118)

[08:23] Your twins are 4, right?

[08:24] This is Chimney, by the way.

[08:24] actually, theres only 2 of them

[08:25] kiddng.

[08:25] yeah

[08:25] y?

[08:26] If you don’t have other plans for the day: want to come over for a playdate with Jee-Yun?

[08:27] All her friends have been invited to a birthday party, but not her.

[08:28] thats rough.

[08:28] let me check with the wife

[08:31] we’re in.

[08:32] send me you address, we’ll be over aftr lunch? So around 2-ish?

[08:34] Sounds great.

[08:35] Shared location

[13:42] gettng rdy 2 go. ETA 1420

When the doorbell rings, Jee-Yun takes off in a sprint. She knows not to answer the door without an adult present, so she bounces in front of it until Chim catches up.

When the door swings open, it reveals a smiling Percy. He’s got a sleeping child in one arm, a bag in the other, and a second child standing next to him. As soon as the door is open wide enough for a four-year-old to slip through, Percy’s kid darts inside, past Chim, past Jee-Yun and into the living room.

Percy heaves a deep breath.

“Hello Chimney. Nice to see you, thank you for the invitation.” The words sound formal, almost rehearsed, a formality before returning to business. He leans to the side, raises his voice. He’s not shouting, just making sure he’s being heard. “Tessa.”

Not two seconds later, the mop of black hair reappears in between Chimney and the door. “Dad?” she shoots back, in the same tone of voice.

“Didn’t anyone teach you manners?” Percy grins down at the kid.

She beams back. “Gandma did, but she’s not here.”

Percy laughs. “If we’re nice to Chimney and his family, they might invite us back.”

That seems to be all the incentive she needs to bring out whatever polite behaviour Percy’s mother managed to instil in her. She offers out a tiny hand that Chimney gladly shakes. “Hi. I’m Tessa.”

“Hello Tessa. I’m Chimney.”

“That’s a funny name,” she declares, but is already darting past him again, coming to a stop in front of Jee-Yun. “Hi. I’m Tessa. That’s my brother Benji.” She points one hand to the child still asleep in Percy’s arms, holds the other out for Jee-Yun to shake.

“I’m Jee,” comes the cautious reply, Chim’s daughter clearly caught off-guard by the overabundance of energy.

“Do you have Legos?”

This gets Jee to perk up. “I do! They’re in my room.”

Tessa stops to turn and look at her father. When Percy nods, the girls are off, probably starting a valiant attempt to rearrange Jee’s entire room.

Chim ushers Percy inside. “Come in, come in. You can put him down on the couch.”

Percy drops his bag on one end of the couch, then levels his kid carefully on the other end. “Thank you. Benji was very adamant this morning that he didn’t want to sleep while I went for my run and then fell asleep in the car because his night was two hours too short.”

Chim snorts. “Yeah, I know the feeling. Can I offer you anything to drink? I’ve got water, I’ve got juice, I’ve got beer and wine, but it might be a bit early in the day for that.”

“Water is fine, thanks.” Percy follows him over to the kitchen, eyes the mosaic over the stove with interest. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thanks. It’s mostly Maddie’s doing.”

“Did I hear my name?” Maddie comes out of their bedroom, probably just done hanging up laundry and certainly alerted to their guests’ presence by the noise the girls are making in Jee’s room. She smiles at Chim in passing, then goes to shake Percy’s hand. “Hi. I’m Maddie.”

“Percy. Nice to meet you.”

They aren’t even fully done with the introduction when a head of black hair pops up besides them. “Can I have something to drink?”

“Sure, kiddo. Water sound good?”

“Yeah. Can I get some for Jee, too?”

A minute later, Tessa is off again, a plastic cup in each hand.

Just as the door to Jee’s room swings shut, a black mop of hair pops up next to the kitchen counter, once again. “Can I get a water?” Chim feels like he’s having a deja-vu.

Maddie is having the same experience, going by the way her gaze jumps from the kid in front of them to Jee’s room.

Percy’s face shows fond exasperation. “Benji, this is Chim and Maddie.”

“Hi, Chim and Maddie. I’m Benji.”

“Hi, Benji,” Chim and Maddie echo unisono.

And now that Chimney is actually looking, he sees the differences between the two. It’s in the angle of the chin, in the form of the ears, in the colour of the eyes, in the slope of the nose. The hair is identical, though, mops of black hair, not quite curly, but not straight either – their father’s hair. And with the same hair, a similar height and near-identical clothing, the twins are all to easy to confuse.

Percy hands his son a cup of water, then points at Jee’s door. “Tessa and Jee are in Jee’s room if you want to join them. I’ll be right here in the living area.”

Benji seems to consider this, then ambles off to join his sister and make a new friend.

Percy turns to his hosts. “Those two do not see why they should accept that they aren’t identical twins. I’ve got friends who are identical twins and the kids decided that they want to be identical, too. I’ll have to admit, it works rather well.”

Maddie laughs. “They had me going there for a minute.”

They relocate to the couch, Maddie talks a bit about her job at dispatch, Chim shares a story or two about the 118, Percy talks about New York. But mostly, they talk about their kids. Percy goes on a rant about how daycare in California is different from New York, Maddie bemoans that all of Jee’s friends seem to have siblings and that makes playdates crowded from time to time, Chim regales with Jee’s newfound aversion to tomatoes – at least ketchup is still fine. They all gripe and moan about raising kids on a shift schedule, about fitting childcare between working at emergency services.

After a while, the kids come out into the living area, Jee with the puzzle box under one arm. “Can we do the puzzle here?”

There is a voice in the back of Chim’s mind telling him to ask why they can’t do it in her room. He knows the answer: by now, the entire floor is likely full of Legos, leaving no space for the large puzzle Buck brought by a few days back.

And space or not, Jee is still young enough that she needs help with her puzzle more often than not. Maddie has apparently come to the same conclusion. “Sure, go ahead.”

Jee carefully pries the lid of the box open, then unceremoniously dumps the contents on the floor. “I wanna start with the fire truck!” she exclaims. She holds up the box lid, showing the picture the puzzle will turn out to show. It’s easy to see why Buck thought his niece would like it: it’s a scene of first responders, with a police car, a ladder truck and an ambulance surrounded by people in matching uniforms.

“No. We have to start with the corner stones,” Tessa shoots back.

Oh, to live a life wherein the order of operations for assembling a puzzle are a person’s biggest concern.

Five minutes later has the kids sorting the puzzle pieces into little heaps. “Border pieces, border pieces,” Tessa sing-songs while collecting pieces with a flat side. Across from her, in the same sing-song voice, Jee chants “fire truck, fire truck.”

“Got a corner!” both girls are interrupted by Benji’s exclamation, turn to look at him. And lo and behold, the boy didn’t just find any corner. He found the corner with a piece of the ladder truck. Chaos descends anew.

As Chimney watches the kids play, as they move on from the puzzle to running through their small yard, as the stomp back in to demand food (and beg for ice cream), he can’t help but smile. Inviting Percy and the twins might have been a last resort, a solution to an unexpected problem. But it had turned out better than he could have imagined, might turn into a true friendship between their kids.

(He’s reasonably sure he and Percy will be friends for a long time to come either way. After all, they work together. And at the 118, that means you’re family.)

“Are you staying for dinner?” Maddie asks as the afternoon lilts towards evening. “You’re more than welcome to.”

Percy checks his watch, already shaking his head. “Thanks, but no. I promised Annabeth I’d make pizza. And we should get going, actually.”

“I didn’t mean to-” Maddie starts an apology, but Percy waves it off.

“You’re good. If I know my children, they’re gonna crash in the next half hour, anyway.” He turns his head, raises his voice. “Tessa, Benji?” There’s the sound of small feet stomping through the house, then all three children are standing in front of their parents. “We want to get going. Can each of you go to the bathroom, please, before we leave, and then say goodbye to Jee and her parents.” Both kids open their mouths, an argument on their tongues, but Percy cuts them off, his voice stern, the words gentle. “Remember we promised mom and Zoe that we’d make pizza.”

“Yay, pizza,” one of them – Chim thinks it’s Benji, but he isn’t quite sure – cheers, before taking off to the bathroom.

As the kids zoom around, getting ready to leave, there is a knock on the door. Chimney looks at Maddie, his wife already looking back. “You expecting anyone?”

Chimney shakes his head, but gets up to open the door.

He finds Josh on the other side, with a tired smile and a bottle of wine.

“Well, you’re not the Han I was looking for.”

“Neither are you the 911-operator I imagined spending my evening with.” Chim softens the words with a smile, opens the door wide and steps aside to invite Josh inside. “You’re almost in time for dinner. You want to join?”

“Well, if I’m not impos-” he cuts off mid-sentence, startled into speechlessness. Chim turns, looks around, tries to see what Josh sees.

Maddie is just coming over from the kitchen, arms already wide for a hug, one hand going for the bottle of wine. But just past her is Percy, messing around with Tessa. The girl is hanging off his neck, desperately trying to hold on to her father. In her attempt to grab onto him – grab onto anything - she’s grabbed his shirt from behind, pulling it up over his torso while she slowly slides off.

Percy, unaware of the new person in the room, or just unbothered by him, turns this way and that, asks “has anyone seen my kid? I swear, I saw her just a second ago.” Tessa giggles, kicks her feet in the air in a futile attempt to get higher on her father’s back. Then her grip slips, and the giggle turns into a screech.

Long before she can hit the ground, Percy’s arm shoots out, pinning her against his side. “There you are.” His smile is wide and sunny and shows teeth and when Maddie nudges Josh, her best friend finally closes his mouth, forces his face into an expression that cannot longer be described by words such as “drooling” or “ogling”.

Percy tries putting Tessa back onto her own two feet, but when she objects with flailing limbs, he settles her on his shoulders, instead. “Hi, I’m Percy.”

Josh is trained for emergency situations, which might be the main reason his mouth is still working, even though his brain has obviously gone offline. “Josh. Nice to meet you.”

“Daaaaad, let’s go. We gotta make pizza,” Benji complains.

Percy’s smile is soft as he looks at his son. “In a minute.” He turns to Chimney. “Thanks for today, this was great. Next time at our place?”

Chimney can’t help but beam in response. “Sounds great. Get home safe.”

He walks them to the door, ruffes the kids’ hair, watches as each of them hug Jee before leaving and wave at Maddie who’s already getting the wine glasses out of the cupboard.

“Who was that?” Josh asks, as soon as the door is safely shut behind the Jackson family. His voice is heavy with curiosity.

Maddie puts two glasses in front of Josh – she knows Chim isn’t much a fan of red wine – and opens the bottle Josh brought. “Percy Jackson. He’s the new firefighter with the 118.”

Josh’s eyebrows make a valiant attempt to vanish into his hairline. “Does Captain Nash seriously choose his crew by chance of them ending up at the cover of some magazine?” He turns to Chimney. “Seriously, why is everyone at your station so insanely hot?”

“Well, we’re firefighters, being hot is considered an occupational hazard.”

They descend into bickering for a bit before Maddie and Josh retreat to the patio while Chim gets dinner started. He hears bits and pieces of their conversation, about Josh’s latest disastrous date and that he should swear off romance all together. Chim knows that song and dance, has heard it enough times to not believe it.

When he checks his phone after dinner, he finds he has multiple unread messages from Percy.

Percy Jackson (118)

[18:12] tday was fun, thx.

[18:12] shold do this again

[18:14] in case youre still looking for a present for Maddie: my friend runs a winejard. Bst wine you can ask for, but mostly a bit weird. You evr had zucchini wine? promise, its waaaay bettr then it sounds.

[18:14] hes got beer, too, I think. And hard alcohl. But also non-alcholic stuff, which is prety cool and tatses amazng.

[18:15] Contact: Pollux (Cabin 12) 🍇🏺

[18:15] Call him, tell him hi from me. he’ll give you teh family discuont (instead of the stranger surplus)

[18:16] he also does fruit baskets

[18:16] and honey

[18:17] and chtuney, marmelade and stuff like that.

[18:18] and pesto. his mango pesto is the BEST

And his texting style might be atrocious, but Percy Jackson is really starting to grow on Chimney.

Chapter Text

The alarm is blaring, people are hurrying around the station. When Bobby hops into the passenger side of the engine, Percy is already in the rear of the vehicle. It seems to be a matter of pride for their newest member, something of a principle. Never be the last inside – or rather: never be in the truck later than the captain is.

Bobby can’t quite place what it is. Is it a show of respect? Is it the need to prove himself? Did they do things differently in New York? Or maybe just at the station Percy had worked at before?

Hen jumps in, followed closely by Buck and Eddie. Chim is out today, took the day off to celebrate Maddie’s birthday. The door slams shut and a second later, the vehicle moves.

The dispatcher on the other end of their call floods him with information. Bobby takes it all in, reads between the lines, filters out what’s important. Structure fire, single family home, two people still inside. The call came from one of the neighbours, the mother and young son already got outside; father and aunt remain trapped in the building, exact location unknown.

They pull up at the scene, pool out of the engine. They’re all in their turnouts, all ready to run into the fire. Buck falls into step at Bobby’s left, Hen at his right, Percy and Eddie just behind them.

Smoke billows out of the building, angry red flames licking along the facade. The fire might catch the garden shed if they don’t get in between, jump from there to the next house. Something moves in one of the windows on the second floor. On the curb, a near-hysterical woman clings to a crying boy.

“Buck, Jackson, there’s two people still inside. We have movement in the third window from the left, second story. Get them out, but be careful.” Immediately, Buck and Percy break off from the group, head over to the building in a jog. They’re adjusting helmets and masks even as they run, easily in step with each other. Before they enter the house, the two men exchange a quick glance, a nod, then they vanish from sight.

“Wilson, Diaz, see to these two. See if they need priority transport or if we can keep the ambulance for whatever injuries Buck and Percy come out with.” The boy is cradling his arm, must have fallen in his haste to get out of the house. The mother has burn marks on her hands, he arms, her face. Parts of her shirt has been burnt off.

With Chimney out for the shift, Eddie is stepping in for paramedic duty, and he does it well. There is scarcely anyone so in sync with each other as Buck and Eddie, but Eddie works well with Hen, too. They head over, pry the woman off her son, see to their injuries.

“Ground floor clear,” his radio crackles with Buck’s voice. “Heading upstairs now.”

“O’Connor, Miller, Gomez, get the hoses going. We need to keep this from spreading.” His orders are already being carried out, even as he speaks them aloud. These are his people, this is his crew. They know what to do. And they do it well.

“Found the father,” Buck’s voice says. “Signs of smoke inhalation, seems otherwise fine. Responsive, alert, mobile. Getting him out now.”

Good, that’s good. It would have been better if both people had been in the room, but still. It’s the first time Bobby has sent their newest member into a burning house. He doesn’t particularly like the thought of Jackson being in there alone. Then again, he doesn’t like the thought of Buck being alone in a burning building, either. Then again, it’s all of their jobs, and they’re pretty good at it.

“Kid has a broken arm, but it’s a clean break, doesn’t have to be set. He needs to go to the hospital, but not as a priority,” Eddie says, not over the radio, but from where he appeared besides Bobby. “Mother has second degree burns, vitals aren’t too good. We should get her into a hospital before the adrenaline wears off and she crashes.”

Dispatch already has a second fire house en route to the scene, only three minutes out. “Get her on the ambulance, then. Have Hen ride with her. The boy can go with his father on the next one.” Eddie nods and hurries off, Bobby grabs his radio. “Captain 118 to dispatch, we need a third ambulance to assist with transport.”

For a moment, he hears the noise of a keyboards being worked through the line. Then, “The 142’s ambulance is in the area, heading back from patient transport. ETA 6 minutes.” Good. Bobby doesn’t waste his breath for pleasantries. He does take the second to let himself smile when Buck appears in the building’s doorway, supporting the short man beside him.

“Found the aunt,” Percy reports from inside the building. “Pinned down, non-responsive, heavy burn marks. Probably a dislocated shoulder, broken leg.” Eddie is rushing towards Buck, takes the family father in his care. Buck smiles, a flash of white teeth in his soot strained face. Then he turns and heads back inside to help Percy. “Providing oxygen and external chest rubs, and hey, hey, you’re fine, you’re good, I’ve got you. Patient responsive and not happy about it, could use someone to help with – oh, Buck. Great.”

Just as their ambulance takes off with Hen and the mother, the 133 pulls up, more people in full turnout gear flooding the scene. Captain Mehta appears next to Bobby. “Where do you need us?”

“We’ve got one victim pinned inside, two of my men working on getting her out. Let’s try to stop this thing from burning down to the ground. We’ve stopped it from spreading to the other buildings this far.” Divide and conquer, Mehta’s group immediately sets up their hoses to attack the front and C side while the crew from the 118 is holding down the B side.

The father, freshly out of a burning building, has a tearful reunion with his son, gaze darting across the lawn. Eddie tries to talk him down, and not a minute later, the paramedics from the 133 are on him with oxygen and questions and shows of professional concern.

“Jackson, what’s your status?”

“Got her unpinned, putting her onto a surfboard for transport now.” Whatever works, and carrying a plastic backboard into a burning building is rarely a good idea.

Between the 118 and the 133’s efforts, the angry flickering flames start hissing and pulling back, the fire retreating from the front lawn into the house.

Percy gets hit with a full blast out of a fire hose when he sets a foot outside the house. The responsible party – Bobby is pretty sure she’s the newest probie – redirects the water immediately and tries apologizing. Not that Percy would be able to hear anything between the roaring and hissing of the fire at his back, the whooshing of water at his front and the overall commotion present at a scene with two fire houses present. He doesn’t look too mad about being drenched, either, just keeps on his way as soon as it’s clear the water won’t hit the patient he’s transporting.

The 133 meets them with the stretcher so Buck and Percy happily pass off their patient to those people better equipped to deal with her injuries.

Another ambulance pulls up and a moment later, two paramedics with a stretcher appear next to Bobby. “Captain Nash, good to see you. Dispatch said you ordered a taxi?”

Bobby laughs, recognizes the older of the two from many a case worked together. “Father and son over there. Smoke inhalation, broken arm, the likes. Talk to Diaz. The mother was already sent ahead to Cedars-Sinai with second degree burns.” A nod, a clap on his shoulder and they’re off to deal with their patients.

The paramedics with the 133 are meanwhile pushing the aunt into their ambulance, preparing for take-off.

Buck is over with Eddie, talking to the little boy with the broken arm. Percy, drenched from head to toe has stepped up to help fight the fire. He’s got a hose in his hands, a smile on his face and is chatting (or rather, shouting) with O’Conner a few feet to his right.

Buck and Eddie help the paramedics with the 142 to herd their charges into their ambulance, then take a look around, assessing the scene.

The fire is mostly under control. Now, it’s basically a matter of time to fully put it out.

“Buck, swap out with Jackson. Eddie, how was the father?”

Eddie gives him the rundown on the man’s status. It’s a list of minor things that can quickly amass to a bigger problem. A problem the 142 has to deal with for now.

Percy jogs over to them, shoves his hair out of his eyes with a well-practised swipe of his hand. “You wanted to see me, Captain?” Because of course, Buck had sensed Bobby’s intention when he’d sent the kid off and had told Percy to report back.

“I can’t have you stand in the cold while dripping wet. You’ll get sick.”

Percy laughs, like Bobby said something funny. “This ain’t cold, Captain. You should see winter in New York. We get something fun called snow.”

“I’m from Minnesota, kid.”

“And you call this cold? Seriously?”

And it’s not really cold, Percy is right about that. It’s warm enough to be outside in a shirt. This is LA, after all. Still… “Doesn’t mean you won’t get sick if I let you stand out here all evening wile you’re drenched. Diaz, see to it that he doesn’t catch a cold.”

Percy rolls his eyes but follows Eddie over to the engine, shrugging off his turnout coat as he goes.

From that point on, it’s a lot of busy work. Bobby coordinates with the 133 to get the fire under control, talks to the police officers who show up to investigate the cause.

Hen returns with the ambulance and Bobby sends her back to the station with Percy so he can get a warm shower and something dry to wear. Percy seems to find Bobby’s concerns wholly unnecessary and highly amusing but complies with a good-natured salute as he drives off with Hen.

Two hours later, when the fire has been put out and the house cleared of any lingering embers, they finally get back into the cars and back on the road. They’re overdue for dinner and the casserole Bobby has planned on making would take too long to get on the table by the time they make it back.

He’ll have to make do with something quick, then. He doesn’t like putting subpar food on the table for the people he is responsible for and who work so hard every second of every emergency they respond to. But any food is better than no food after an outing like this. He knows no one is going to complain, but he wishes he could offer something better than pasta with a quick sauce.

So it surprises him something fierce when they pull into the station to be met with the smell of something… good. Something good, and warm and savoury, wafting down from the loft.

The station is quiet as the engine and ladder truck pull into their spots. Percy is in their workout area, lazily doing pull-ups while Hen is sitting on the bench next to him reading a book.

While everyone sorts their gear into what needs a wash and what can be worn again, Bobby heads over to the gym. “Something smells good,” he comments lightly.

For a moment, Percy looks at him in confusion. Then, his eyes go wide. He drops from the pull-up bars and sprints past Bobby, “my quiches, I forgot my quiches” tumbling out of his mouth.

By the time Bobby catches up to him, Percy is standing in the kitchen with oven mitts on his hands and a relieved look on his face. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Timer shut off the oven.” He turns to face Bobby, a look on his face that says he isn’t quite sure if he overstepped. “I didn’t know when you’d be back, and I’m sure you had a plan for dinner, but there was all that fresh produce and I thought I’d get dinner started while I’ve got nothing better to do. And my mom has been sending me recipes for quiches lately, so…” For a moment, he trails off, then he seems to remember something, eyes growing wide. “Oh no, the eggs were probably meant for breakfast, weren’t they? Sorry about that.”

Buck, peering into the oven because it’s impossible to keep him from sticking his nose anywhere, scoffs. “Never apologize for feeding us after a call. We can get more eggs. There’s a 24-hour supermarket two blocks from here.”

Bobby takes cutlery out of the drawer, hands it over to Eddie, directs Hen to get plates out of the cupboard. He throws Percy a wink, points a thumb in Buck’s direction.

“What he said.”

Chapter Text

Henrietta Wilson is a very homosexual lesbian and not attracted to men at all. That doesn’t mean she can’t appreciate a good-looking man. It had been that way back when Eddie started at the 118 and it hasn’t changed now that Percy Jackson has joined their station.

She’s settled, some, in the intermittent years, and so have her co-workers. Buck doesn’t seem to feel any need to one-up Percy at any opportunity, Chim doesn’t double up on his time in the gym like he did when Eddie joined.

The crew being calm about their overly attractive new co-worker doesn’t mean the people on their cases are. Having Eddie and Buck on scene had lead to many an appreciative (if sometimes over the line) comment over the years. Adding Percy to the mix is making more than one brain short-circuit.

While Buck usually smiles at the attention, sometimes even lightly flirts back, Percy tends to handle it more like Eddie does: with a dismissive nod before he changes the subject. He doesn’t even have the good grace to blush at the comments, often appearing simply caught off-guard by them.

It’s a bachelorette-party of all things they’ve been called to.

One of those beer-bikes had toppled onto its side when it took a corner too close, too fast and slid down a hill. Dispatch informs them that there are a dozen women on scene, all responsive, but all at different stages of being drunk. A few women, lucky enough to not be pinned in the accident are coming towards them as they see the engine pull up.

As soon as they’re out of the engine, everybody grabs their equipment while Bobby gives out orders. “Buckley, Diaz, see to it that the bike doesn’t slip any further, then get the saws and jaws. Jackson, you’re with Wilson. See if anyone is in need of priority attention. Han, check out the women already out of the vehicle.”

Hen takes off down the slope of the hill, Percy on her heels. Bobby’s been pairing their newest member with different people of the crew, testing how he fits, what he knows, how he works. From what Hen is seeing, the guy is more than solid. He’s quick on his feet, has an eye for details. He’s smart enough to draw correct conclusions, act on them and most importantly communicate them to the team.

While more than happy to do the heavy lifting (quite literally in most cases), Percy isn’t one to rush into situations on his own, to pull the kinds of solo-stunts Buck did when he first started. Not that Buck has entirely grown out of the habit. It’s just that now, he pulls Eddie in it with him.

Buck and Eddie are at the rear end of the vehicle, so Hen and Buck go ‘round the front. Even the first glance allows her to relax a bit. The girls are all awake and attentive, no apparent heavy injuries, only minor lacerations. Their moods range from whiny over scared to too drunk to care about anything other than the size of Buck’s biceps.

“You’re so strong,” a girl with a pink bow in her hair and glitter around the eyes slurs out, reaching out for Buck. “I’m Sienna. What’s your name?” She bats his eyes at him, then devolves into giggles.

The girls at the bottom side of the toppled bike are pinned in place by a piece of wood that must have come off the table. The girls on top are free to move. But with the bike in an unstable position and them a few feet off the ground, they’ve made the smart decision to stay in place.

Buck smiles at the girls, making them swoon in the process. “We’ll get you all out of here, don’t you worry. Just stay put for a minute, we’ll have to stabilize this before we can begin extraction.”

Hen takes the moment of most of the girls being distracted by Buck to approach the girl closest to her. “Hi there. Are you alright? How’re you feeling? Anything hurt?” She goes through more questions, such as “did you hit you head”, “are you feeling sick” and “can you wiggle your fingers and toes for me”. She seems fine enough, so Hen moves on to the girl next over, does the same spiel.

Percy follows behind, talks to the girls on top of the beer-bike while Hen triages the lower row. When Hen gets to the third girl, one of the girls Percy had been triaging speaks up. “Oh, you’re a handsome one.”

Percy flusters a bit, but continues with his line of questioning. “Are you feeling light-headed?”

“Only by your presence.” She makes to reach out for Percy, nearly looses her balance in the process. Percy is quick to step in, to grab her by the shoulder and stabilize her.

The beer bike sways with the movement.

“Give us a minute,” Eddie’s voice comes from the other side of the vehicle. “We’ll have this stabilized in no time.”

The girl fixating on Percy doesn’t seem to care, leans into his touch. “Oh, but I’m so light-headed,” she sighs, mimicking a swoon and sliding off her seat. Before she can get pinned between the seat and the pedals, Percy grabs her, pulls her out of the vehicle and into his arms.

But it’s too late. The bike rocks as the girl abandons her seat, causing a mounting bracket from the flimsy roof to tear loose and fall down. It hits Sienna square in the head.

Sienna screams, first in shock, then in pain. The blood turns her bow red, draws angry lines into the soft glitter on her face. Hen immediately abandons the girl she’d been assessing and heads over.

Vaguely, she’s aware of Percy getting the woman out of his arms and onto the ground, sees Chim hurrying over to take care of her. She sees Buck and Eddie coming around the front of the bike, finally having secured it.

Hen drops to the ground next to Sienna, stops her from prodding at the gash in her forehead. Percy shows up at her side, neck-brace in one hand, gauze pads in the other.

She secures the neck brace, grabs the gauze. “Octenisept,” she says, holding out her hand. Her open med kit is on the ground next to her, open but just out of reach.

Percy freezes.

“Percy. I need the Octenisept.” She tries not to snap, but this is a really bad time to get squeamish about blood.

Percy sounds wrong-footed. “The what?”

Before Hen can turn to him, can find out why he isn’t helping her, Eddie speaks up from where he’s getting another girl off the bike. “The antiseptic. White bottle, red label, left side pocket.”

A second later, Hen has the right bottle in her hand.

In the end, the head wound isn’t that bad. Head wounds always bleed a lot, and with Sienna being drunk and hanging partly overhead, her reaction had been worse then the wound. She still needs to go to the hospital to get properly checked out, but Hen’s optimistic.

Percy hurries off to get the backboard. When he returns, his face is as red as the plastic in his hands.

“You good?” Hen asks as they prepare to lift Sienna onto it.

Percy shrugs, nods. “One of the girls Chimney cleared earlier asked if I was the stripper they ordered. She was very crude about it. And handsy.”

And yeah, Hen gets why Percy looks uncomfortable. Being objectified is never fun. But being on the scene of an accident with no good way of escaping the situation truly sucks. She shoots Percy a worried look as they get Sienna onto the backboard, but he calmly smiles back at her. “It’s fine. Bobby took care of her.”

And maybe it is fine, but maybe that’s something they should pay attention to, in the future - the way Percy gets distant when strangers compliment him.

Hen takes the ambulance to the hospital while Chim stays behind to keep an eye on the other three girls with injuries bad enough to warrant trips to the hospitals until more ambulances show up to take them. She hands her charge off, then heads back to the station.

She is greeted with dinner, almost ready and waiting for her. She slots into her seat next to Eddie, gladly accepts the salad bowl he hands her. From the other side, Percy loads potatoes onto her plate.

Bobby comes over with a flat pan, raises his eyebrows at Hen. “Anything of note?”

“No, all good. She should be out of there before end of day.” She passes the salad on to Percy.

Bobby waves the spatula around, gestures for Eddie to give him his plate so he can continue dishing out food. After Eddie, it’s Hen’s turn and she automatically reaches out to grab Percy’s plate once hers is back in front of her.

But Percy holds onto it.

Hen turns, meets his gaze. Percy shakes his head. “None for me, thanks.”

The thing is that sure, everyone is free to eat or not eat whatever they want. But Percy has eaten meat before, it’s not like he’s vegetarian. And Bobby’s cooking is something personal in this station. You don’t just opt out of it.

“I don’t eat fish,” Percy says in a small voice, eyeing the piece of salmon on Hen’s plate. “Or any sea life. Or horse meat, for that matter.” It’s an odd line to draw, an odd point to make. But Hen puts the plate back down without further comment, grabs Buck’s plate instead and hands it over to Bobby.

“You allergic or something?” Bobby asks, even though they all know that’s not it. He would have told them, it would have been in the file, it would have been of medical importance.

“Or something.”

Later, when dinner is cleaned up and they’re hanging around the Loft for some downtime, Hen is sitting next to Chim when her best friend snorts at something on his phone. Half-expecting to see some meme in any of the group chats they share, she leans over to peek over his shoulder. What she finds instead appears to be some kind of article, the logo of the New York Times at the top of the page.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh, just a column that woman writes for the New York Times. She’s got two kids, writes about her life. You want me to send you the link?”

“Sure.” Because why not? If Chim likes it, it can’t be too bad and Hen isn’t reading as much these days as she’d like to.

Her phone pings with an incoming message, and she opens the link without much consideration.

Blue’s friends are a colo u rwheel

                by Sally Blofis

So, I might have mentioned (read: low-key complained) my son Blue recently moving to another city.

And while I knew I’d miss him something fierce, I was more worried about how my daughter Sage might react. Because for her entire life, her brother had been her rock, her calm in a storm, her guiding light. And now she has to weather the storm of teenage perils and high-school drama without him by her side.

Sage has always been a free spirit, a girl of strong will and bright ideas. But she’d always had a place to go to when she needed, always had a safe harbour that wasn’t underneath her parents’ roof. And I worried, now that that’s gone.

Because I have no siblings, neither does my husband. Nor are there any grandparents in the picture. As far as adult anchors in Sage’s life go, it’s always been me, my husband, and Blue.

I worried enough that I talked to her about it. (Crazy, right? Communication...)

She looked at me like she didn’t know what I was talking about.

“What do you mean, I don’t have a safety net of adults now that Blue’s out of the city?” she asked me.

And then I looked at her , not understanding what she was talking about.

And then she told me.

She told me about Crimson who taught her how to change the tires of her bike. She told me about Ginger who put a paintbrush in her hand and confidence in her head when she tried her hand at painting. She told me about Bronze who took her riding that first time, about Obsidian who taught her self-defence and about Sunglow who tended her wounds when she inevitably cut herself on the knife meant to protect her.

And as we’re sitting there in our kitchen and I listen to my daughter listing Blue’s friends like they’re her family, our front door opens. And I know it’s not my husband, know it’s not Blue on a surprise visit, either. I recognize the rhythm of steps on the floor before a head peeks around the corner.

“I was in the area and thought I’d bring you some of my peppermint pesto,” Grape says as he unloads the basket he’s holding onto my kitchen counter.

And when I look at Sage and she looks back, I know what she’s been talking about.

Because Blue is the kind of person who makes his friends his family.

And the whole colour-wheel of friends he has built throughout the years is still right here, spinning on and on and on, keeping us going.

“The kind of person who makes his friends his family,” Hen thinks, looks around the loft at the friends that are her family. And she understands why Chimney clicks with this column, why it speaks to him.

Bobby is off to his office, probably doing some paperwork or other. Eddie and Buck are playing MarioKart. Percy raises his phone to take a selfie. Hen gets up to join them on the couches, drops down next to Percy.

“Who are you texting?” she asks, noticing that Percy’s sending the selfie he’s just made.

“Annabeth,” he replies with a soft smile on his face. “Just checking in. Telling her I’m good.”

Hen can work with that. “Tell me about her. How did you meet?” She nudges his leg with hers.

Percy leaves his leg there, a steady press against her knee. “We went to the same summer camp as teenagers. She’s the smartest person I know, and the safest place I know. You know that saying about home being a person, not a place?” Hen hums in agreement. “She’s that person for me. Always has been, always will be.”

They sit like that for a while, winding down before the next inevitable call comes in. They chat about this and that, hackling Buck and Eddie for their video game skills and making faces as Chim face-times Maddie, shoving the camera in their faces to say hi.

Their cheerful reprieve is cut short by the sound of the alarm, because it always is.

Percy is the first up from the couch and into the truck, beating Bobby there my a mere second. The rest of them filter in after, taking off as soon as Eddie slams the door shut.

When they arrive at the building the call had been placed from, it’s easy to find the cause. It’s a small bungalow, not too different from the house Eddie and Chris live in. Smoke billows out of one of the windows.

“The owner tried putting out an oil fire with water,” Bobby informs them. They all wince, knowing all too well what that can do and having lived through one too many cautionary tale about it. “Adult female and fourteen year old male tried to flee through the back door, which wouldn’t open. Both currently sheltering in the supply closet.”

As soon as the engine comes to a halt, they’re out. Armed with fire extinguishers and their paramedic equipment respectively, they storm inside the building. Buck takes out the burning pan itself, Percy extinguishes the smouldering curtains and Eddie takes care of the wooden cupboards next to the stove.

Chimney and Hen rush past them, to the built-in supply closet where they can hear whimpering. When Chim opens the door, a woman almost comes tumbling out, coughing and gasping for air. She must have gotten a lungful of smoke before she got clear of the fire. Chimney takes her by the hand, makes her sit down, puts an oxygen mask on her face.

Hen turns towards the teenager still pressed against the back of the closet. “It’s alright, you can come out now,” she tells him. “The fire is out.”

He just looks at her from wide, frightened eyes. When Hen holds out a hand to him, he takes it.

The mother is barely able to sit without assistance, but when she sees her son, she tries to pry the oxygen mask off her face. “Miss, you need to keep this on. We’ll take care of your son.”

The boy is of an age with Danny, Hen realizes with a start when she doesn’t even have to crouch down to meet his eyes. “Can you tell me your name?”

He doesn’t answer.

“I’m Hen. I’m a paramedic with the LAFD.”

He looks at her, over at his mother, back at Hen. He moves his hands. His mother makes some aborted gesture, but abandons it when another coughing fit seizes her.

“Yeah, we’ve got to get her to the hospital,” Chim declares.

Hen isn’t so far with her own patient, uncooperative as he is. “After I check you over, you can ride in the ambulance with your mom,” she offers.

The response is the same as before: a look over to his mother, a curt hand gesture.

This time, the motion catches Percy’s attention. He nudges Hen’s shoulder, stands before the boy. He brings one hand to his chest, knocks the index and middle finger of both hands against each other twice and moves his right hand through a flurry of gestures Hen vaguely recognizes as part of the ASL alphabet.

The reaction in the teenager in front of them is instantaneous. His shoulders sag in obvious relief as his hands fly up in a flurry of movements. Percy easily matches him in speed.

“His name is Tony. He says he’s fine. No burning in his lungs, no shortness of breath. He was further from the fire when it went off.” The translation rolls off Percy’s tongue with an easy confidence.

“Does he want to ride in the ambulance with his mother?” Hen asks.

Another exchange of empathic hand movements later, Tony nods eagerly.

“Do you want to go with him? To translate for him at the hospital?”

Percy relies the question, waits for the answer. “He’s got hearing aids and a notepad in his room. Says he’ll be fine.”

They load both the mother and her son in the back of the ambulance. Chim rides with them, and Percy gives them one last wave before the door closes. Tony grins and waves back.

“You know ASL?” Buck asks as they head back to the engine.

Percy shrugs. “Yeah.” He doesn’t offer an explanation, no reason why he knows a whole other language. Instead, he hops into the back of the engine, leans his head against the headrest, waits for the rest of them to board.

They have to take a longer route back to the station to get around a police operation that doesn’t require their assistance. Inevitably, they all end up on on their phones, checking on what messages had come in the past half hour.

“Chris says Tia Pepa’s tamales are the best thing he’s eaten all week,” Eddie says, expression caught between fond and exasperated.

Buck gasps for air. “Slander! I made pancakes on Saturday.”

“Yeah, well, that actually counts as last week.”

“Hm. You’re right. Burgers on Thursday?”

“Sounds good.”

Not wanting to get into the domesticity of the Buck-and-Eddie-show, Hen turns to Percy. “Any response from your family?”

“Zoe’s new school uniform came in. I swear, it only took her two months to grow out of the old one.” He holds out the phone to show her the picture of the same blonde girl from his phone casing, wearing a blue school uniform that looks oddly familiar.

At the promise of cute children’s pictures, Buck breaks off planning meals at the Diaz household and turns to Percy. “Let me see.”

Percy easily hands over the phone. Buck looks confused for a second, then his face clears and he shoves the picture over to show to Eddie. “She looks adorable. That’s the Durand School uniform, right?”

Percy accepts his phone back from Eddie who’d taken a cursory glance at it before returning his attention to the conversation at hand. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

Eddie’s reply comes with a smile. “Chris went there, too, before he started middle school. It’s a pretty good school.”

“Yeah, it’s been great so far. Although she needed some time to get used to the uniform.” And then they’re talking about schools, and about the kids, and about the best method to sneak vegetables into dinner.

They have another case helping an old lady who’d collapsed in her crawlspace before they return to the station and Bobby tells them to hit the bunks. They split up, go through their quick nighttime routines. Hen brushes her teeth, sends Karen a text, puts her shoes next to the bunk, her glasses on the night-stand.

Chim is already in his bunk, tapping away on his phone. Buck and Eddie come into the bunk-room together, chatting away quietly. Bobby, they all know by now, will probably slip in later in the night, without ever waking any of them.

“Percy not coming?” Hen asks when Eddie just draws the door shut behind himself.

Buck turns onto his side to face Hen. He looks weird like this. Buck’s always tall, but it’s more noticeable in this bed made for smaller people than him. In a bed where his hair touches the headboard while his feet rest against the wall on the other end of the bed, he looks a giant. “He says he wanted to watch some TV.”

The sentence lingers between them for a while as Eddie gets settled in the bed across from Buck.

“Do we have to worry about this?” Hen asks no-one in particular. “He’s not getting any sleep while he’s here. Ever.”

Chim hums in soft agreement. “What would you do, though? Drag him here, tie him to the bed, hope he falls asleep?”

“No. But talking to him might help.”

That, too, settles between them. Hen gets it. It’s not the easiest conversation to have, asking our co-worker about his insomnia. She tosses back her blanket and re-ties her shoes because someone has to.

She finds Percy on the couch, but the TV is off. He’s got his phone in his hands, headphones in his ears as he scrolls through a cooking blog. When Hen sits down next to him, he shuffles up on the couch, takes off his headphones, puts down the phone.

“You alright?” he asks.

Hen smiles, can’t help it. “That’s what I’m here to ask you.”

“Me? Why?”

“You haven’t come down to the bunk-room and I’ve got a feeling you’re planning on staying awake all night. Again.” Hen shuffles forwards, reaches for one of his hands which Percy easily allows. “I know you’re new here-”

“It’s been a couple of weeks already.”

Hen nods. “I know it’s been a couple of weeks. But the rest of us, we’ve been together for years. We know how the others tick. We know when to give each other space and when to push. We don’t know that about you, yet. And when I don’t have the social cues to go on, I revert to my paramedic training. And my training says that someone regularly going entire nights without sleep is pathological.”

“Oh, Dr. Wilson breaking out the big words.”

She sighs. “Percy. I don’t want to push where I’m not wanted. But I worry about this, about you. We all do.”

And yeah, Percy isn’t someone who appears to have too many wall in the first place, so he’s quick to lower them when asked. His sarcastic demeanour melts away as he searches for the right words. Hen waits him out. Patience might be the easiest part of this.

“That always seemed to be the biggest downside to being a firefighter, you know? Not being able to sleep next to Annabeth each night.” On a certain level, Hen can relate. Fire-fighters keep odd hours. But it’s clear that’s not all Percy is talking about. “I’ve never been the best sleeper. Too much going on up here.” He taps his hand against his temple. He takes a deep breath. “Maybe I just have to get used to this place.” His smile is tight, like he doesn’t quite believe it himself.

Hen squeezes his hand. Percy squeezes back.

Thinking back to earlier in the day, she steers the conversation to the next topic. “While I have you, mind if I ask you something else?”

“Sure.”

“Earlier, with the bachelorette-party… You seemed uncomfortable.”

“I’m not a big fan of strangers touching me unexpectedly.” Hen goes to pull back her hand, but Percy squeezes it in reassurance. “Neither are you a stranger, nor was this unexpected.” His smile comes easier now. “I like being touched in a friendly way, I know how to deal with aggressive contact. But what those women were doing earlier…”

“Was neither?” Hen supplies.

Percy’s smile turns a bit sheepish. “I just never know how to handle these kinds of situations, you know? People throwing themselves at me, flirting with me...”

Hen leans back in her seat, goes for levity. “Surely, you’ve got some dating experience. What did you do when you and Annabeth first met?”

Percy laughs at the memory. “I was twelve. I drooled on my shirt, spent the summer convincing her I’m not a total lost cause, then spent the next four years pining over my best friend and let her handle pretty much all romantic advancements in our relationship.”

Hen cackles. “Oh, I really have to meet her.”

“Yeah, she’s been saying the same thing.”

For a few minutes, they sit in silence, letting the night drag on around them. It feels lighter, now that they’ve talked. Sweeter, with this new form of understanding between them. “You should go to sleep,” Percy finally says.

He’s right, she should. “So should you.”

“Maybe.” The smile he offers her is small but it’s honest. He doesn’t follow her to the bunk room, though, and the bed behind Buck’s stays empty through the night.

Chapter Text

Sargent Athena Grant likes her job.

She likes to serve and protect. She likes being independent, likes going where she’s needed, to not always have a second person in her car yapping at her.

That’s not to say there aren’t downsides to the job – even aside from the obvious danger. The hours are odd, days run long, there are weeks where she doesn’t see her family half as much as she’d like to.

May is off to college, so any meetings with her have to be scheduled now. Harry – and when did her baby get so big? – is at least living under her roof again, so they see each other fairly often. And Harry is old enough that he doesn’t mind being left alone once in a while as long as Bobby keeps the fridge stocked with food.

Bobby, however, is a whole different level of trying to schedule time with sometimes. Athena wouldn’t change it for the world. She loves her husband, just as he is. And being a fire captain is ingrained in his very soul. Going days just talking in passing, falling asleep in an empty bed and waking with her husband dead asleep next to her only to sneak out of her own bedroom to not wake him after a long shift is one of the downsides of both their work being so erratic.

One of the upsides, though, is that Athena can swing by the fire house on her lunch break to treat herself to the company of her husband, her best friend and their little work family. And whatever Bobby has decided to cook up today.

She’s merely two steps through the bay doors when Hen spots her. “’Thena! Good to see you. What brings you by?”

Athena accepts the quick side hug, falls into step next to her favourite paramedic. “Oh, nothing in particular. Just wanted to see some friendly faces.”

“Then why did you come here?” her second favourite paramedic hollers from where he’s setting the table.

Chim’s question alerts the other occupants of the loft to Athena’s presence. Bobby comes over to press a kiss to her temple. “Are you staying for lunch?”

Athena nods in reply. Buck smile at her from where he’s making salad, offers a wave and a quick “Hi, ‘Thena. Good to see you.” Eddie is on his phone on the other side of the loft, offers a quick nod before he goes back to whatever conversation he’s having.

Percy – the new guy, because a mere two months and change aren’t enough to shake that title no matter how well he seems to integrate himself with the team – squeezes past her with a quick “Sergeant” in acknowledgement. It’s soft, the way he says it. Not quite an endearment, but not quite an honorific title, either. It’s a fact, the way he says it, a statement. It’s the way May calls her ‘mom’ – like her being is in a name, in a statement, in a title.

Bobby mentioned that Percy does it with him, too. Calls him “Captain”, more often than any of the others. Says it with a gentle smile or a wide grin or around a barely suppressed yawn.

So, Athena lets it rest. Doesn’t press him to use her given name just yet. Not here, not at work, where lines tend to blur between family and professionalism. Not here, where Bobby is the Captain and Athena is a Sargent, and they will all snap into their respective roles as soon as the alarm rigs out or Athena’s radio calls her to action.

By the time lunch is ready, Eddie has finished his phone call and everybody crowds around the table. Eddie mutters something about a bake sale and annoying PTA members. Hen is regaling the rest of them with tales of Denny’s success at school.

The food is delicious – it always is when Bobby’s in the kitchen – and the conversation lively – it mostly is with these people. Percy bemoans the fact that it’s his sister’s birthday two weeks from now and he doesn’t have a present yet and doesn’t feel like he can fly over to New York for it, either.

“I get what you’re saying,” Eddie agrees. “I mean, the first birthday I couldn’t be there for Adriana, I hated myself. And I think she did too, at least a bit.”

The frown on Percy’s face gets deeper. “She ever forgive you?”

“I guess so?” Eddie shrugs. “I mean, we grew apart anyway. With me in Afghanistan, her in Texas. And even when I got back, I had Chris. It was inevitable.”

Judging by the expression on Percy’s face, he strongly disagrees. “Yeah, well… That’s not me and Estelle.”

Buck nudges him, tries to alleviate some of the tension. “Maddie and I hadn’t even been talking for a few years, and see where we are now! We’re thick as thieves again.” He sounds so careless as he says it, like Evan Buckley doesn’t have abandonment issues from here to Pennsylvania and back.

“You’re not very good at this, calming me down” Percy tells them on a laugh. “But sure, I’ll think of something so she won’t hate me or stop talking to me for years.”

“What does your sister do?” Athena asks, eager to get on to another topic but not wanting to derail the conversation entirely.

“She’s in High School.”

“Oh.” Athena doesn’t remember if Bobby told her Percy’s exact age, but he’s got to be around thirty. “That’s quite an age difference.”

Percy nods, serves himself some more salad before passing the bowl on to Chim. “Yeah. Mom was pretty young when she had me. Dad left her to be a single mother. Her first husband treated her like shit, but luckily, that ended eventually. And then she met Paul, and they married, and now they’ve got Estelle.”

“Do we wanna know what happened to husband number one?” Chimney asks, always eager for gossip he’s incapable of keeping to himself.

“NYPD sure would,” Percy mutters around a forkful of lettuce. But then he shrugs, the mean glint in his eyes gone as soon as it appeared. “He disappeared when I was twelve. Police did an investigation, but never found anything. No signs of life, no signs of a body. Was declared dead after a while.” He doesn’t seem too perturbed by that. But then again, he doesn’t seem to have liked the guy.

The conversation shifts then, away from Percy and along the steep decline into missing persons and mysterious disappearances. Athena takes her leave soon after. She loves those people, but she has to deal with enough missing person’s reports for her job that she doesn’t feel the need to discuss them in her downtime.

She drives around for a bit, breaks up a fight, pulls over a truck tailgating a VW. Dispatch sends her to do a welfare check on an elderly woman whose children aren’t able to reach her. The woman is sitting barefoot in her vegetable patch and pulling up weeds. She didn’t hear her phone, she explains, and really the children worry unnecessarily since her heart attack a year ago. She tries to get Athena to stay for a cup of coffee. Even as she declines, Athena has the feeling that there will be more incidents like this in the future. Of her “not hearing” the phone.

She’s just considering to buy herself an afternoon cup of coffee to go when her radio crackles with her call-sign. Hers, and about a dozen others.

The construction site Dispatch sends them to isn’t far, so Athena is the first on scene. She parks her car out of the way, so the firefighters can get through when they arrive in a few minutes.

Even though Dispatch had explained the situation, Athena finds herself surprised by the scene in front of her. The construction site is big, scene of the ongoing construction of an office block. People are hurrying around, construction gear is parked to the side, tools strewn about. So far, so normal.

What isn’t normal, however, is the tower crane half-sunken into the ground and leaning against the unfinished building.

Dangling from the side of the crane is a lone figure, saved from the multi-story drop by a safety harness. The scaffolding against the side of the building didn’t take too kindly to being crushed by the crane, either. It’s partly collapsed, people still trying to get off it via the still standing parts or retreating into the unfinished building.

Athena stops a construction worker hurrying past her. “What happened here?”

“The… the crane toppled over. Must’ve been placed on soft ground, so two of the support beams sunk in.” So far, so obvious. Athena has half a mind to ask how, why, if nothing had been done to prevent that. But she has more pressing matters at hand, even though her patience is running thin.

“Where is the site manager?”

“At his niece’s wedding.”

“Well, then who’s in charge in his absence?” she snaps.

The construction worker, stressed even before Athena forced him into a conversation, flinches at her tone. Then, he spots someone to off the side, his shoulders slumping a fraction in relief.

“Boss!” His voice carries something of the same note as Percy’s had earlier when he’d called her “Sargent”: Not an endearment, but not an honorific, either. Just something that is.

Still some yards away, but already heading in their direction, Athena sees a blonde woman coming her way. She’s in a button-down, slacks, safety boots and a white hard hat. The hair is pulled back into an up-da, not a single strand out of place.

There is something stormy about her, like Athena is another problem she has to deal with while she’d much rather be solving other issues.

“You don’t get to snap at these people,” she tells Athena in no uncertain terms. “If you have a problem with any of them, you get to snap at me, and I’ll talk to them.”

“And who are you?”

“I’m the lead engineer on this project.”

It takes Athena aback, for just a second. She’s been married to an architect for a decade and change, after all. She knows the hierarchy, knows the procedures. This is a big project they’re looking at. Being lead engineer for such a project has no training wheels, barely a safety net. She’s young for that kind of responsibility.

But, young as she might be, she has her people’s back, and Athena can respect that. She’s got that mamma bear attitude May keeps teasing her about. And right now, over a dozen of her cups are in danger and her cave is crumbling.

“I’m Sargent Grant. LAFD will be here in a minute.” She can already hear the sirens. “Do you know how many people are still inside?”

“We had about twenty on the scaffolding when the crane tipped over. Another dozen or so inside the building. The foremen are doing head-counts as we speak. And then there’s Ronny.” She makes a gesture towards the poor soul hanging off the crane itself.

The 133 is first on scene, Captain Mehta taking over incident command. He shakes hands with the lead engineer and as they’re walking away to discuss where to place their ladder truck, Athena realizes she hasn’t gotten a name from the woman. It doesn’t matter. She’ll catch it later if it’s of any importance.

The 118 arrives shortly after, Mehta has them park a bit to the back. “We have to stabilize the crane before we send anyone up there,” he reasons. “Otherwise, it might slip and crush a whole bunch of other people, including our rescue teams.”

The lead engineer disagrees, and tells Captain Mehta as much as Bobby heads over to join the conversation. Athena heads over, too, to join both the conversation and her husband. She passes the crew of the 118 on her way over as they’re filing out of the engine and grabbing their gear. There are a few short nods of recognition, but right now, they’ve got a job to do.

“Applying the lever principle, the chance of a single person’s weight closely to the crane’s axis causing a shift in the current predicament is low enough to disregard it. Going by Newton’s first law of motion - and common fucking sense – we can pretty much rule out the possibility of spontaneous movement along the Z- and Y-axis. If you’re concerned about the crane slipping further, you may have a point, but judging by the initial sinking of the ground, the soft ground is only of detriment to two of the four corners on which the crane stands. I could tell you the likelihood of the building crumbling under the crane’s weight over an extended length of time, but given that it hasn’t at the initial impact and hasn’t shown signs of structural damage below the upper two floors, that seems superfluous.” She takes a deep breath. The rest of the 118 has come over, listening to the lecture with varying levels of interest. Her gaze flits over them, a small smile ghosting over her face at the sight of the too handsome firefighters Bobby has collected to be his team. “Meanwhile, Ronny up there might not be in immediate danger of falling, but he got tossed around some during the fall and there is a chance that the harness is cutting off blood flow to his extremities. Ergo, someone should get up there and get him down.”

Percy nods. “Whatever the most beautiful woman on site wants,” he says, already turning to head to the crane.

“Jackson,” Bobby barks. Percy halts in his tracks. “You go with Chim, the guys from the 133 need help getting people out of the collapsed scaffolding.” Percy looks ready to argue, but Bobby doesn’t give him the room. “Buckley, Diaz, get the guy from the crane, go via the ladder truck. Wilson, you’re on standby in case this guy needs urgent medical care.”

Immediately, they scatter.

Athena, knowing well enough that this is her husband’s stage more than it is hers, does some crowd control. Not that there is much need to, as it turns out. The construction workers are rallying on the other side of the construction site, clear out of the way of danger, but close enough to be called upon if needed. Whoever instigated their response knew what they’re doing.

Still, it’s easy to keep herself busy for the next hour or so, coordinating incoming ambulances, keeping dispatch updated.

Buck and Eddie get the guy off the crane, into Hen’s waiting hands and into the closest ambulance. As they roll him past her, Athena can her him grousing about how crane sites need to be compacted.

She sees the lead engineer in passing a few times, always busy, heading from here to there, talking to people face-to-face or on the phone. Athena catches up to Bobby just as he’s pulling Jackson aside.

“What was that earlier?” Bobby asks, voice more confused than angry. From what Athena has heard, Jackson doesn’t have the more impulsive side they’ve all come to know and dread in Buck 1.0. “One smile from a pretty woman and you forget proper procedure? And chain of command?”

Percy shrugs sheepishly. “Only if it’s her, I guess.”

Bobby is gearing up for a reply when Mehta calls him over the radio. “We’ll talk about this, later.” Then he’s off in one direction, Percy in the other.

As the afternoon drags on, Athena sees the blonde woman who runs this site more and more often in the presence of a particular black-haired firefighter. They’re always at least a foot away from each other, never touching. Her shoulders stay squared, Percy’s stance relaxed. But there is something to the way this woman just slightly turns into Percy whenever he stands next to her, the way she watches him leave to do another task, even as she explains something or other with grand gestures to whoever else came up to talk to her.

“That’s odd, right?” Hen shows up next to Athena, follows her gaze. “Percy usually isn’t like…” she makes a vague gesture. “...that.”

Athena hums her agreement.

“And anyway, he’s married. He shouldn’t be flirting with some stranger on scene.”

“I don’t think they’re strangers,” Athena offers, but that doesn’t seem to make things better.

“Well, if he’s been sneaking around behind his wife’s back for a while, I guess it’s alright.” Hen’s voice drips with sarcasm. Athena loves her, but she also knows that this – cheating on your spouse – is a particularly touchy subject.

And anyway, Athena doesn’t quite think that’s what this is. But before they can get into it, there is an electrician with a twisted ankle Hen has to take a look at.

Mehta’s crew might have been on scene first, but they’d technically already been on overtime when they arrived while the 118 has over half of the rest of their shift left to go. So, the 133 heads off once the worst is dealt with and leaves the remaining busy work for the 118.

The boss, as all of the construction workers call the lead engineer with fondness in her voice, sends home everyone who isn’t needed from her crew. She has them leave names and phone numbers in case anything comes up, tells them she’ll see them bright and early the next morning - to debrief, if nothing else.

More importantly for Athena and the firefighters remaining on scene, she orders them food. A delivery guy carrying pizza is followed by another one with Chinese take-out. A doordash-truck delivers water and soft-drinks.

Percy thanks her with a big grin on his face. In turn, he gets a wink and a “everything for you.”

Hen’s mood is getting worse, watching the exchange.

She still gathers around with the rest of them as Bobby finally declares them done with their tasks to eat some pizza. The boss – and Athena really should have asked for a name, even though she has a strong suspicion by now – stands a bit off, talking on the phone. Even though she’s not doing anything spectacular, it catches Percy’s eye.

“You’re drooling,” Chim remarks dryly.

Percy actually wipes a hand over his mouth before turning to Chimney in confusion. “Huh?”

“Do you really have to stare at her like that, man?”

“I mean, I guess I don’t have to…” Percy blushes.

Bobby’s voice is a fraction softer than Chim’s, closer to the way he talked to Buck back in the day when it was necessary. “This is her place of work. It’s inappropriate.”

This, however, gets Percy onto the defensive. “I didn’t even do anything. I haven’t as much as touched her since we arrived!”

“So, not touching women without consent in their place of work is the bar we’re trying to clear now? Really?”

Hen butts into the conversation, too. “Plus, you’re married.”

Percy looks confused. “Why does being married count against me being allowed to compliment or touch her?”

Hen looks thunderous, a rare sight. “Because I really doubt your wife would appreciate you flirting about with some stranger on a job.”

For a long moment, Percy just stares at Hen. Blinks. Stares some more. Then, he actually face-palms. “I never introduced you!” he sighs into his hand. He holds up a finger, already walking backwards out of their circle of friends and towards the boss. “Be right back.”

It doesn’t take long for her to end her call, then she follows Percy over. Athena steps aside to allow her space to stand in the circle with them.

Percy still doesn’t touch the woman, maintains the careful distance Athena and Bobby are so used to when in public at work. “Everyone, this is Annabeth. Jackson. My wife.” He lets it settle a beat, takes in the shocked faces surrounding them before turning to address his wife. “Annabeth, those are my lovely co-workers, who were just telling me off for flirting with a woman who’s not my wife.”

She looks confused at that. “Since when do you flirt with strangers? You barely flirt with me.” Percy grins back at her, apparently delighted by the statement.

Chim isn’t usually who Athena would count on to lead a conversation, but then again, stranger things have happened. “Hi, I’m Chimney. Howard Han. Yee-Jun’s dad. It’s so nice to meet you. Your twins are great.”

The confusion and tension seems to seep out of Annabeth as she shakes his hand. “You, too. They love Yee-Jun. We totally should have you over sometime.”

“I’m Henrietta Wilson. Hen.” Even as she’s shaking Annabeth’s hand, she turns to Percy. “I’m sorry about earlier. It’s just…”

“Hey, no sweat,” Percy interrupts her gently.

It’s telling, Athena thinks, that they all take the time to give their full names along with nicknames. But then again, she knows why. They expect her to be around, expect Percy to be around.

“I’m Evan Buckley, but people call me Buck. Percy has told us much about you.”

Annabeth grins. “Only good things, I hope.”

“As if there’s anything else to tell,” Percy immediately shoots back.

Annabeth pats his arm. “Smooth.”

“I’m Eddie Diaz.” Yeah, there isn’t much that could lead to Eddie introducing himself to anyone as “Edmundo”.

“I guess we’re on first name basis, then,” Bobby says with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m Bobby.” Because sure, he’d probably introduced himself as “Captain Nash” earlier in the day, just as she’d introduced herself as “Sargent Grant”.

“We’ve met earlier,” Athena offers as she goes to shake Annabeth’s hand. By the slight blush on Annabeth’s cheeks, their rather curt first meeting isn’t one she’s particularily proud of. “But how about we forget about that and try it a second time? I’m Athena.”

“What?” The exclamation comes from Percy and Annabeth both, Athena’s hand hanging useless between them as the couple in front of her is too busy staring.

“Percy, you’ve known her for months,” Hen’s no-nonsense voice cuts through the confusion.

Percy opens and closes his mouth a few times. “Yeah, but… I thought your name was ‘Thena.”

“It’s a short-form,” Athena deadpans.

“I didn’t know that,” he replies. Then, he turns to Annabeth. “I didn’t know that,” he reiterates.

“Is there a problem?” Bobby asks, a bit confused and a bit concerned, but underneath it all amused.

Annabeth smiles at that. It might be a small thing, but it seems honest, overall. “No problem, no,” she tells Bobby before turning back to Athena, finally shaking her hand. There’s something odd in her face, in her stance, in her voice, as she says: “It’s just that my mother’s Athena.”

Athena smiles at that, relieved that it’s such an easy reason for the confused moment between them. “There aren’t a lot of people with that name.”

“No, there are not.”

It hits her only later how odd exactly Annabeth’s wording was.

Not “My mother’s name is Athena”, or “My mother’s called Athena”, or even “My mother’s Athena, too”.

Just… “My mother’s Athena.”

And she knows that tone of voice, had heard it earlier that very day from the other Jackson among them.

Not an endearment, not a honorific, either. Just something that is.

Chapter Text

Howie returns home after a shift that should have taken 24 hours but ended up running for 31 due to a five-alarm fire.

Maddie herself had been on the phone lines for the first few hours of it before Josh had sent her home. Home, because she’d been two hours overtime, herself already. Home, because she had to get Yee-Jun from daycare.

When her husband comes home, Maddie gets a peck to her cheek, a mumbled “wake me up for if you need anything” and the certain knowledge that her husband is going to sleep through to the next morning.

She grabs her phone, contemplates for a minute, then sends Percy a text.

Percy Jackson (118) 🚒

[15:12] hi, this is Maddie. Are the kids still on for the playdate? Howie just came home and is pretty beat. Totally get it if you need the downtime and want to reschedule.

[15:28] Hi, this is Annabeth. Percy’s out like a light. But you’re still welcome to come over with Yee-Jun. The twins have been looking forward to it all day.

[15:30] Yee-Jun has, too. Can you send me your address? I think Howie has it, but I don’t want to wake him for it.

[15:32] No problem. Address

[15:33] Thx. See you in a bit.

The address Annabeth sends her is in the same neighbourhood Bobby and Athena live in. It’s a decidedly nicer part of the city, just this side of posh. The house she parks her car in front of is bigger than Athena’s, with two stories instead of one, a fence surrounding the property.

There is a “beware of the dog” sign at the gate, with a very cute three-headed dog depicted next to it. The lawn is mowed but still has little patches of daisies and clover visible here and there. The trees are tell and well-trimmed, the shrubbery neatly cut.

The main door is a vibrant blue, with colourful handprints all over. When Yee-Jun presses the doorbell, they hear the chime ring out throughout the house.

Howie had retold the story of the squad meeting Annabeth on one of their scenes, had told Maddie about a put-together woman with a straight back and authoritative behaviour and over-all put-together appearance.

The woman opening the door isn’t quite what Maddie expected.

The woman in front of her is tall, blonde and lean in the way that comes from a lot of exercise. But she’s in a green tank-top and cut-off jeans, with a towel over her shoulder and a four-year-old on her hip. The skin around her eyes crinkles as she smiles at Maddie, even as the kid in her arms – Maddie thinks it’s Tessa – begins to wiggle.

“You must be Maddie and Yee-Jun,” she says, putting her kid down and shaking Maddie’s hand. “Hi. I’m Annabeth. You’ve met Benji.”

Not Tessa, then. “Yeah, hi. Thanks for having us.”

Yee is already off, squeezing past Annabeth with a quick “hi” and then running into the house after Benji.

“No problem, we’re glad you could make it. Do you want to come in or do you have somewhere to be?”

Maddie hears the implicit offer to leave her child here while she runs some errands, but shakes her head. She doesn’t know these people that well and is keen on making sure Yee feels safe with them before even thinking about leaving her alone here.

“I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

“Great. Come in, then. Don’t mind the state the kitchen is in, though. Our dishwasher was making odd noises and I’m trying to fix it.”

The small entryway with stairs to the upper level opens up into a large living area with a kitchen in soft reds to the right. The kitchen is in disarray, with dirty dishes stacked on one counter, food for the kids on the other. A bucket, tools and multiple towels litter the floor around the open dishwasher.

On the other side of the room, Yee-Jun and Benji have been joined by Tessa, the three of them screeching in delight as they climb up the climbing contraption nestled in one corner of the room. There’s ropes hanging from the ceiling, too, and a climbing wall with a mattress laid out in front of it.

In between the veritable children’s paradise and the kitchen is a large dining table, littered with puzzles and art supplies. A soft-looking orange couch is tucked into the corner of the room, looking out into the back yard through floor-to-ceiling windows. The garden here has the same chaotic-but-well-tended flair as it does in the front of the house. There’s vegetable patches, and a swing-set and a fire-pit and even a small pond.

“Your home is amazing,” Maddie says, something like awe in her voice. It’s not just the size, not just the easy wealth implied in so many of the interior choices. It’s the fact that all of it appears to be catered towards the children, towards the family dynamic.

It’s only on second glance that Maddie spots the enormous dog-bed behind the couch, the metal water bowl with tiny engraved bones and paws on it. “You’ve got a dog?” she asks. “I don’t think Percy mentioned that.”

Annabeth shrugs. “Yeah. She’s upstairs right now, keeping Percy company.” It’s cute, the picture of Percy cuddling with a Saint Bernard or something of equal size. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

Annabeth gets Maddie a water, offers her a seat, sits down herself. Only to then get up again, put away some of the art supplies the kids must’ve used at some point in the day. She sits down again for a minute or so, before getting up to refill the water bowl, sits down again.

Meanwhile, they talk about the children. “Yeah, Benji still doesn’t really pronounce those k-sounds properly”, “Yee is now at the age she doesn’t want me to fuss with her hair ll the time”, “Tessa keeps testing her boundaries with me, I just hope that passes quicker than when Zoe did it”.

Maddie perks up at that last one. “Right, you’ve got another kid. Where is Zoe?”

“Upstairs, in her room.” Annabeth turns towards the kids. “Tessa, Benji, will one of you go and ask Zoe if she wants to play with you?”

After a second of contemplation, Tessa (Maddie is sure, they’re wearing different shirts) zooms off towards the stairs. When she comes back not two minutes later, she’s followed by a girl some years older.

Her mother’s daughter even on first glance, she’s got Annabeth’s blonde curls and grey eyes, even though she has Percy’s smile.

“This is Zoe,” Tessa tells Yee-Jun happily, before going back to what they’ve been doing before.

Zoe jumps into the game with them, swings on the ropes, chases after her siblings. There’s a lot of gesturing involved, from all tree of the Jackson kids. And it’s not like the smaller children quiet down with the new addition. But juxtaposed to her little siblings and a squealing Yee-Jun, Zoe is remarkably silent.

“Is Zoe alright? She seems quiet.”

Annabeth looks up from the tea she’s been making. “Oh, yeah, she’s fine.” She turns towards the living area. “Kids, anyone want some tea?”

Zoe snaps twice, makes sure Annabeth looks at her before pointing at herself. Maddie only sees the back-end of the motions Annabeth forms her hands into before Zoe zips past her. Annabeth hands her daughter a cup of tea, accompanied by a gentle, parental “careful, it’s still hot”.

Zoe pulls the cup closer to her body with her left hand while placing the fingers of her right hand onto her chin before pushing them out like she’s blowing her mother a kiss.

Annabeth comes back to sit with Maddie, puts a cup in front of each of them. Maddie doesn’t know a lot of ASL, but she knows enough to recognize it when it’s being used in front of her.

“Is she…” Maddie doesn’t quite know what to ask, how to ask, but Annabeth makes it easy for her.

“Selectively non-verbal.” She smiles fondly at her twins who haven’t stopped talking since Yee-Jun came in. “It sometimes feels like her daily word-count has been re-allocated to her siblings.”

Once Zoe is done with her tea, she rejoins the fun, easily slotting into place with the others. And it’s obvious that her siblings love her, obvious how much this is the norm for them. While mostly talking out loud, even the twins slip into ASL then and now, even with each other. When Zoe snaps her fingers, their heads snap around to face her, to not miss what their sister wants to tell them.

Yee-Jun catches on quickly. She seems a bit confused at first, but then just accepts it, sometimes waiting for one of the twins to translate into spoken words, sometimes guessing from context.

Annabeth is restless next to Maddie, gaze jumping around the room and catching time and again on the partly disassembled dishwasher. “Don’t let me keep you from fixing your dishwasher,” she says. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Maddie knows all too well that having guests with kids over is sometimes the best time of day to get things done without having a child sticking their nose into everything you start.

Her host throws her a smile, gets up and heads over to the dishwasher, disappearing into the appliance up to her shoulders. “See, it’s not even that it was broken,” she says, clanking around in there. “There was just this odd sound towards the end of the power wash cycle, you know? And the service hotline said if it’s still working properly, not making up warning sounds, then I shouldn’t worry about it. As if I’d spent half an hour in their stupid waiting loops to hear that, right?” She emerges from the dishwasher, grabs a wrench, disappears again. “But then I called my friend Leo, who’s great with stuff like this. And Leo said it might be the rotation of the upper fan triggering the natural oscillation of the centre drawer, providing of the backwards screws had come loose. Which they had. So I fixed that. But when I was in there, I noticed that some of the screws showed signs of rust. See, I get it. Stainless steel is expensive. Using galvanized screws is a good substitute, in most cases. But the coating was damaged and so, there was a bit of rust. And since I had my tools at hand, anyway, I decided to quickly switch them out, right? But then, as I had them off, I noticed that there was dirt behind one of the panelling sheets. So, I took that off to clean it. And as I was doing that…”

Maddie just sits there. She sits there and listens to Annabeth talk about her dishwasher and looks at the kids playing. She has tea and nothing to do and nowhere to be and things are good.

Annabeth’s ramblings remind her of Buck, actually, fresh off of a research binge and eager to share his knowledge. But it also makes her think of that time her brother took apart his vacuum cleaner (“there was dust inside, I wanted to get it out” “the dust is supposed to go into the vacuum cleaner, that’s what it’s for, Evan” “yeah, Maddie, but not in between the gears”) and then had to admit defeat at putting it back together. In the end, there had been four screws left over, and her brother swore up and down that there was no point in assembly where he’d needed them.

All this to say: the dishwasher seems more complicated than Buck’s vacuum cleaner did and Annabeth has taken it apart into way more pieces.

Miraculously, by the time she starts on dinner prep, Annabeth has successfully re-assembled the machine, loaded it and started a program – without any error reports or clanging from within.

“Are you staying for dinner? We’re having tofu Mac ’n cheese.”

Maddie thinks it over. Yee-Jun is having fun, Howie is certainly still asleep and Maddie would have to stop for groceries if she’d actually want to cook tonight. “We wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

Annabeth snorts. “You’re not. We had people over unannounced all the time back in New York. I miss that.”

“Well, in that case,” Maddie grins. “But you gotta let me help.”

Two minutes later finds Maddie with a cheese grater and three different kinds of cheese in front of her. “Tell me about New York. How was your life there, how are you settling in here?”

“Percy grew up there, I spent a big chunk of my childhood in and around New York. It… it’s home, you know? But not like…” Annabeth stands there for a moment, in the middle of her kitchen, cutting board in one hand, block of tofu in the other. “The Germans have two words for ‘home’, you know? ‘Zu Hause’ is where you live, where you’ve made your space. This is zu Hause for me.” She makes a gesture, encompassing the kitchen, the playing den with the kids, the yard outside. “But then they’ve got another word, ‘Heimat’. Heimat is where you’re from, where your roots are. That’s New York for me, for us.” She begins cutting up the tofu into little pieces. “Most of our friends are there, Percy’s family. And we grew up together with most of our friends, you know? Went to summer camp, trips abroad, all that jazz. There weren’t a lot of boundaries between us. So, whenever I needed someone to talk to, whenever Percy needed a place to rest and I couldn’t be there, whenever we needed someone to take care of the kids, there were so many people to turn to. It’s…” she takes a deep breath, shrugs. “I know I’m coming from a place of privilege, but I’ve never lived in a city without that kind of built-in network, you know?”

Maddie finishes grating one block of cheese, grabs the next.

She’d done things the other way around, she thinks. Their parents never really had close friends while her and Evan were growing up. And it’s not like there was any kind of network to speak of while she lived with Doug. But coming here, being pulled into the family that is the 118 and everything connected to it – first via her brother and later through Howie? Suddenly being separated from that after having known nothing else your entire life must be difficult.

“Do you want to join wine night?”

Annabeth looks up from searing the tofu to turn to her. “Wine night?”

“It’s mostly me, Hen and her wife Karen and Bobby’s wife Athena. We get together every one or two months. Compare notes on the men we spend our lives with and the kids that give us grey hair. Sometimes, Eddie joins, when he needs to spend the evening with adults instead of his teenager and Buck isn’t available. It’s fun. You should come.”

Annabeth smiles before turning back to the stove. “Sounds fun. Send me the details and I’ll try to make time.”

They get the dish in the oven, clean as they go along. “Kids,” Annabeth shouts over to the living room. “Could you please clean the table so we can eat there? Dinner’s ready in twenty minutes.”

There is some grumbling, but the kids ultimately comply, helped along by Annabeth.

“Can one of you run up and tell dad dinner’s ready soon, please?”

Benji and Zoe take off towards the stairs immediately, shoving each other as they round the corner. “No fighting on the stairs,” Annabeth shouts after them. Tessa goes back to playing building bricks with Yee-Jun.

The kid’s return is louder then their way up the stairs. “Dad says he’s gonna be down in a bit,” Benji announces happily as he returns to his twin sister.

It’s when Maddie turns to see if Zoe came down, too, that she notices the dog.

See, going by the size of the dog bed next to the couch, she hadn’t expected a small dog. She’d known the Jackson’s dog had to be big, had pictured a Saint Bernard, maybe a Newfoundlander.

This is neither of those.

The dog in the doorway is just about the biggest dog Maddie has ever seen, its back easily reaching the height of her hips. She can’t for the life of her even begin to place the breed. It looks vicious, something between a mastiff, a pit bull, a doberman and some kind of terrier. The beast is pitch-black, the short hair gleaming under the soft kitchen lighting. The mouth hangs open to reveal two rows of white teeth and a red, lolling tongue.

“Puppy!” Yee-Jun screeches, already on her way to pet the beast.

And sure, if this is the Jackson family dog, it probably won’t hurt her, but there’s still a lingering doubt in Maddie plus the need to adhere to principle. “Yee, you know you have to ask before you pet someone’s dog.”

That makes Annabeth turn around, even before Yee can utter her polite “Can I pet your dog, please?”

The answer is somewhat of a surprise. “No.” It comes out firm but without malice. Annabeth heads over, crouches down in front of Yee-Jun. “That’s Mrs. O’Leary. She doesn’t like to be touched by strangers. She wouldn’t hurt you, but she won’t let you touch her, either. But there’s no need to be afraid, alright?” She looks up from where she’s crouched, looks at Maddie to drive her point home. “Because no matter what you do, she’ll never, ever harm you.”

Maddie believes that Annabeth believes that, at least. Because at the end of the day, it’s still an animal, still has primal instincts.

Annabeth’s kids don’t seem cowed by the beast as it makes its way through the living room, up to the terrace doors. As soon as it lets out a small whine, Zoe darts over. She opens the door, lets her hand trail through the silky black fur as the dog trudges past her into the garden.

“Where did you get her?” Maddie asks, curious.

Annabeth goes back to setting the table. “Her previous owner died and left Percy in charge of her. Kids, go wash your hands, we want to have dinner in a minute.”

Dinner is lovely. Percy comes down just in time, hair still sleep-ruffled with fuzzy socks on his feet. He kisses Annabeth on the cheek and each of his children on the head, ruffles Yee’s hair and pats Maddie’s shoulder in greeting. He’s not the most talkative, fresh out of bed, but there’s more than enough people around to keep the conversation flowing. Halfway through dinner, Maddie notices that Percy seems to be having his very own conversation with Zoe, made up entirely with the gestures and facial expressions that make up ASL.

“Before I forget,” he cuts in as there’s a lull in the conversation, “I’m supposed to give you all love from mom and Paul and Estelle.”

Annabeth smiles softly. “She liked the surprise, I presume?”

“Sure did.” He winks at Annabeth, then turns to Maddie for the explanation. “It was her birthday yesterday, and she’d been rather upset at the thought of me not being able to be there. But we worked out a compromise.”

Yee-Jun falls asleep in the backseat on their way home and Maddie happily carries her to bed. As suspected, her husband is asleep as well, only a half-empty glass of water on the kitchen counter proving he’d been up at all in her absence.

Maddie gets comfortable on the couch, pulls out her phone, checks her notifications. She’s got a text from an unknown number – “Hey, this is Annabeth, just texting you to exchange numbers.” – and saves it in her phone. Then there’s a few notifications from group chats, a mail with a coupon, a reminder that lunch money is due at Yee’s daycare. And then there’s a notification for that column Howie had gotten her hooked on a few weeks back.

An Expected Surprise

           by Sally Blofis

Every parent who ever had more than one child has at one time had that thought of “What if the two of them end up not liking each other?” – including me. I was fortunate enough that these concerns were entirely unfounded.

From the day my daughter Sage was born, my son Blue loved her. And as soon as Sage was old enough to form any kind of opinion on people – so after about three days – she utterly adored Blue. No matter that there was more than a decade of an age difference between them, no matter that they have different fathers, no matter that they’re so different in so many ways: these two love and adore each other.

When Blue left for college, he did so promising to visit at least once a week – and he did. Sage had been a toddler back then, hadn’t quite understood the distance college had put between her and her favourite person. She’d understood that time with Blue was less than before, but still regular and often, so it was fine.

When he returned to the city with his wife a few years later, Sage was ecstatic. But still, she’d been too young to really understand the distance between them, the time and effort it took to go from one place to the other.

Blue had never shied away from making the trip, after all, and Sage was too young to wonder why we never visited her brother in return.

Now, Sage is old enough to look at a map and realize just how many miles are between her and her brother. Knows how many hours of travel it translates to. She’d actually made a list of it, when Blue first announced they’d move.

How many miles from our apartment to his new house?

How many hours by plane?

By car?

On horseback?

On foot?

On a boat?

Too many miles, and too many hours, had been her verdict. And still, she’d told her brother to leave, she hugged him goodbye and only started crying when his car had pulled around the corner, out of view.

Because sometimes, love means letting people leave.

I awake at five in the morning to sounds from my kitchen. It’s not my husband, for he’s asleep in the bed next to me. It’s not my daughter, either. She wouldn’t be caught on her feet at this time of day, least of all on her birthday.

And sure, we might see a lot of people dropping by unannounced at all times of day, but they usually don’t come when everyone is asleep. And if they do, they just crash on the couch.

They do not have the oven running while humming the Hamilton soundtrack.

But I know who does .

Seeing Blue in my kitchen might be the least unexpected surprise I’ve had in a while.

“I thought you have a shift today,” I tell him as I catch up on two months of missed hugs.

“I do.” It’s a good thing he’s got two arms, because he hugs me back while he continues whisking the batter. I’m genuinely unsure if he’d chosen me could he only have done one. “That’s why I have to leave by half past nine.”

Because while I’m not sure if he’d choose hugging me or whisking batter, he’ll always choose to show up for Sage. “Someone had to make her birthday pancakes.” He winks at me and looks all too proud of himself.

I don’t mention that I made his birthday pancakes until the day he moved out, and even a few times afterwards. Don’t mention that he learned how to make them from me .

When Sage comes into the kitchen, her squeal of joy probably wakes up half the apartment building. After we sing for her and she gets to eat her birthday pancakes, she swears up and down they’re the best she’s ever had.

They’re the same as always.

I’m not saying she’s wrong. But they are. The same. As always.

Sometimes, if you love someone, you have to let them go and hope they’ll come back. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy the time you have with them to the fullest.

Chapter Text

New Rome, 2011

By the time Annabeth comes home, there is food on the table, the kitchen is clean, the bathroom has been scrubbed within an in inch of its life. The curtain pole that had been wobbly for the past two months has been re-attached, the apartment door doesn’t squeak in its hinges and even the stain in the carpet by the couch is gone.

She enters the living room, takes one look at Percy who’s sitting ramrod straight on the couch, puts her bag down and lets out a sigh. “Want to go for a run?”

Percy looks at her, a bit stressed out, and feeling like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin and so so grateful his girlfriend knows him well enough to get him out of the apartment.

By the time their footsteps beat along the well-trodden paths of New Rome, Percy’s already breathing easier.

“Bad news or a problem to solve?” Annabeth asks as they pass the Circus Maximus.

“Neither, I think. Maybe a bit of both?”

Annabeth laughs lightly and Percy loves her. Loves that she’s here, loves that she’s out running with him, loves that she gives him time to contemplate his words but doesn’t let him skirt the issue altogether.

“If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.”

“I don’t like going to college,” Percy blurts out.

Next to him, Annabeth looks utterly unimpressed by the admission. And yeah, she did have to listen to him complain about just how little he likes sitting in classes, just how little he likes doing assignments or studying for tests the past eight months. It’s just that college is the proper thing to do after high school, right? And since him and Annabeth got a full ride at New Rome College, he should just be happy and do it, right? It’s not like he’s failing at classes. He’s just… not enjoying himself. At all.

“Is that bad news or a problem to solve?”

“I wouldn’t call it news,” Percy mutters and Annabeth laughs.

“No, it really isn’t. But you said it’s not really much of a problem to solve, either.”

“That’s because I think I might already have the solution.” He is quiet for a while, his nerves settling as their path brings them to the lake and their shoes kick up sand with every step. “I’m dropping out.”

Still, there is no veritable reaction from his girlfriend.

“You could at least act surprised.”

Annabeth’s eyes go round, her mouth dropping open in an O-shape as she stares at him widely, still keeping pace. “No. Percy! That’s so unexpected. When did you decide that? This is totally out of the blue!”

Percy shoves her. “Yeah, yeah, you’re an amazing genius and always know everything.”

Annabeth shoves him back, his sneakers kicking up water for a few steps until he makes it back onto the path. “You’ve been telling me since three months in that you didn’t think college is for you. Two months ago, you said you’d quit and become a stable hand for the legion. One month ago, you said you’d quit and be Terminus’ both hand man, as he doesn’t have any of his own. Two weeks ago, you said you’d quit and become a fencing instructor at renaissance fairs.”

“So?”

“Percy, you’ve never even been to a renaissance fair.”

“I could still be a fencing instructor there.”

“Sure you could. But that’s not the reason you went all Instant Dream Home on our flat.” There is a laugh in her voice and fondness in her eyes and Percy loves her.

“Do you remember Kasem?”

If she’s surprised by the apparent change in topic, Annabeth doesn’t show it. “Descendant of Apollo?” she asks, like she isn’t sure about it. “The guy whose 29^th birthday party we’d been invited to in our first week here even though that certainly wasn’t the first year he’d thrown a 29^th birthday party? Lived across the street from the coffee shop until about five months ago?”

“You could just have said yes.”

“Yes, I remember him.”

“So, we ran into each other earlier this week, got talking.”

“Oh? What’s he up to these days?” Always leave it to Annabeth to give him the easy openings.

“He’s setting up community projects in San Francisco. Community centres, an orphanage, safe spaces for queer people. He’s even looking into getting a halfway-house up and running.”

“That sounds pretty cool.”

“Right? He says he’s got a few friends who are doing this with him. One’s a lawyer, another a business major, and a few people from different walks of life.”

“Sounds like the kinds of project that benefits from many boots on the ground,” Annabeth says.

They pause their conversation for a bit as they overtake a group of people on a walk, exchanging greetings as they pass.

“Exactly,” Percy agrees as they’re far enough that he considers their conversation private once again. “And he said they could always use more people. Especially those who are well-connected in our community.”

“Sensible idea, having people who know how to make connections for a project like that.”

“He asked if I want to join them and I want to say yes.”

Annabeth gasps. “What? No way. This is not where I saw this conversation going!” She’s never been that good of an actress.

Percy shoves her again. Annabeth laughs. “Alright, alright. What’s stopping you from saying yes?” There is such warmth around her eyes, such calm in her posture, even as they run along the lake.

“I thought I’d talk to you before I made any life-altering decisions.”

“You know you don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

“Do you want my approval or my thoughts?”

“Ideally both?”

Annabeth slows their pace. Percy knows she’s not getting tired, not by a long shot. So this is for her to think, to sort out out her thoughts, deliberate her words. “You have my approval, always and with everything.” Blanket statements are dangerous, and Percy feels warm with the knowledge of Annabeth bestowing them on him nonetheless. “Regardless of that, I genuinely think this is a good idea.”

Relief floods through Percy. “You do?”

They break off from the lake, run along the Little Tiber and past Temple Hill.

“Yes. You don’t like college, but you’re great with people. You’d be doing something you can be proud of, something with a sense of community. San Francisco is what? Thirty minutes by Pegasus? Less than? You could ask Mrs. O’Leary to commute with you, get you there in an instant.”

They run the length of the river in silence, cross the northern bridge and then lope around the Field of Mars to get back to the city proper.

“I’m gonna tell Kasem yes tomorrow.”

“Good. He’ll be happy to have you on his side.” They slow to a walk as they near the Pomeranian Line. “And Percy? So am I.”

New Rome, 2014

Three years are not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things. Not in a world where you have family dinners with gods and afternoon tea with a titan and semi-regular sparring-sessions with your immortal cousin.

Then again, it is a long time when Percy considers that he’s spent more time living apart from his little sister than living under the same roof as her, when he thinks about little Chuck Hedge, when he thinks about how it seems like forever ago since him and Annabeth moved in together.

It feels like half an eternity, it feels like the blink of an eye.

It’s three years of well-loved routine, three years of weekly shadow-travel to New York, of monthly meetings with the old Crew of the Argo II, of birthdays, and jubilees and anniversaries. It’s three years of working side by side with Karem, setting up shelters, getting projects off the ground, helping people.

It’s the small everyday things and the big highlights in between. It’s Katie’s first child, it’s Leo’s own repair shop, it’s Percy and Annabeth’s wedding. It’s dinners at the Jackson residence in New York, it’s runs along the Little Tiber, it’s sparring sessions at Camp Halfblood.

It’s three years of bliss.

So, when Percy comes home on a seemingly normal Thursday and finds the hallway repainted, the kitchen door out of its hinges and the ceiling fan in the living room disassembled, he knows something is up.

“Do we need to go for a run?” he says instead of “Hello” when Annabeth comes out of their bedroom.

“I got accepted to Columbia for my Master’s degree course in architecture,” she blurts out.

“Is that a ‘no’ on the run?”

Percy picks the conversation back up ten minutes later as they’re running past Circus Maximus. The talks might have changed, but they favourite running route hasn’t. “So. Columbia.”

Annabeth nods. “Columbia. I mean, I’ve been accepted pretty much everywhere else I applied, too, you know, but…”

“But Columbia is the one you want?”

“Preferably, yes.”

“And what’s keeping you from it?”

“We said we’d make the big decisions together. I know you’ve got a good thing going with Karem in San Francisco.”

Percy picks up his pace, so he can be in front of Annabeth and fully face her while running backwards. That move has landed him on his butt more than once, but it’s worth the risk, anytime. “You think I’d choose staying here over going to New York with you? Where my family is, where most of my friends are? Where you will be?”

“I mean, I could stay here. University of SanFran has architecture courses, too. I could even stay here in New Rome, keep going as we are.” Her heart isn’t in it and that’s obvious.

“Yeah. But Annabeth. Columbia. New York.” He turns back around, runs side by side with Annabeth once again.

“You don’t think Karem will miss your help?”

“Of course, he will. But he’s got enough people in San Francisco one way or the other. We actually…” he lets the sentence trail off, knowing perfectly well that Annabeth is going to pick it up.

“You actually what?”

“We’ve been talking, Karem and I, about how to expand the program.”

“So, you do want to stay? Or work from New York? It’s one hell of a commute.”

Percy lets himself drift to the side so he’s running through the shallow waters of the lake. “Neither. We’ve come to the conclusion that with the San Francisco operations running rather smoothly and all the experience we’ve gained, that we could look into getting things started in another city. And Juliet, you know, one of the lawyers, was thinking about moving to New York to be with her fiance, so...”

Annabeth stops in her tracks, stares at Percy. He runs another few paces until he realizes she’s not at his side any more, stops, returns to grin at her. “What, did I actually manage to surprise you for once?”

“You know I love you, right?” Annabeth asks, reverting to easy truths as Percy catches her off guard.

Percy beams. “You’ve mentioned that, yeah. Even signed very important looking paperwork about it, I think. Didn’t actually read it, you know what with the dyslexia and all, but people seemed to make quite a fuss about the whole thing.”

Annabeth laughs, tips her head against Percy’s shoulder as she shudders with it.

“Want to tell your family we’re moving home?” Annabeth asks once her breathing has returned to normal.

“Our family, Annabeth. Seriously, I know I didn’t read that stuff, but I thought for sure you did. I think there was something about joining families in there, what’s mine is yours and all that jazz.” Even as he’s talking, Percy is already conjuring up a wall of mist, angling himself and his wife so the setting sun catches in it and creates a rainbow.

“Shut up, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth says, but the eye roll that accompanies the request can be describes as nothing short of fond. “Oh Fleecy, do me a solid.”

New York, 2018

“Bad news or a problem to solve?” are the first words out of Percy’s mouth when Annabeth comes home.

There is something off about her, something twitchy, something stressed that doesn’t come from the job she started at all of four months ago. Annabeth blinks at him, like she didn’t actually expect him to notice – which is concerning on its own.

She opens her mouth a few times, closes it again. “I… I didn’t have a plan for this,” she stutters.

It’s like she’s unravelling in front of his very eyes.

Percy hugs her, tries to instil some calm into the most important person in his life. “Do you want to go for a run?” They don’t really do that any more. Not here, in New York, were any track wouldn’t lead through soft hills along well-trodden paths but over harsh pavement through towering buildings.

“Can we get out of the city for a bit?” She doesn’t seem entirely too certain about how long she’ll be able to keep her calm before breaking.

“Sure. I’ll call Mrs. O’Leary.”

Ten minutes later has them standing somewhere on Long Island. Far enough from Camp that no-one will happen upon them but close enough that the beach looks familiar. They sit in the sand, lean back against the dunes and look out onto the sea.

“Do you want me to ask, or do you need a minute,” Percy asks. Asks, because he thinks he already knows the answer but needs to say something.

Annabeth takes a deep breath. “I think I need to sit with this for a minute, if that’s alright.”

Percy nods. He runs his hands through the sand, forms it to little hills on either side of him, then smooths it down again. He draws circles into the sand, then spirals, then stars. He tries sketching a dolphin and does badly, tries his hand at a horse and does even worse. He buries his legs in the sand, digs himself out, pulls off his shoes and socks because they’re full of sand, now. He lets the sand run through his fingers onto his bare feet.

“Ask me again,” Annabeth tells him finally.

Percy lets the rest of the sand fall back to the ground, claps his hand to free them from the remnants of it, focuses on the conversation. “Bad news or a problem to solve?”

“Neither, I’m pretty sure. A logistical challenge, but a happy one.”

“Should I guess?” He’s teasing, but not quite sure if it lands.

“I’m pregnant.”

Percy… wouldn’t have guessed that. “That wasn’t the plan,” he blurts out. Because they had a plan, of course, they had a plan, he’s married to a daughter of Athena.

So, even before their wedding, they sat down together and discussed where they saw their lives going, and which milestones they imagined in their futures. Had sat down once a year since to reevaluate their plan. They both wanted kids, they’d immediately agreed to that. But Annabeth had started her new job four months ago. In her dream firm, too. She can’t give that up, she shouldn’t have to give that up.

Next to him, Annabeth giggles. “That’s what I said.”

And finally, the tension seeps out of her. Percy leans over to press a kiss against her cheek. “But we agree that it’s a happy challenge?” he asks, fighting the biggest, dopiest grin. Because his wife is pregnant.

Annabeth beams back at him. “The happiest.”

“Good.”

Annabeth is pregnant. They’re having a baby. He’s going to be a father. “How far along…”

“Two months.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

For a long minute, they just sit there like that.

“You’re being awfully quiet over there,” Annabeth says.

“Oh, you know me. Nothing but seaweed up here.” Percy gently knocks a hand against his skull. “Maybe I need to sit with this for a moment, as well.”

“You take your time.”

There are so many thoughts racing through Percy’s mind that he can’t even begin to try and get them into any semblance of order. He gets up, walks along the shore, kicks at the waves, comes back. His thoughts haven’t settled, at all.

“Two months,” he repeats, because talking has always made things easier when it’s with Annabeth. “So we’ve got…”

“...Another seven left until this nugget is born.”

“Nugget? Is that what we’re calling them until we decide on a name?” Percy wrinkles his nose.

Annabeth shrugs. “Any other suggestions?”

“Coral?”

“That feels weird. Not soft enough. Olive?”

“Your mother would be delighted. Plus, it kinda seems needlessly gendered. Kelp?”

“Too squishy. Grape?”

“Too Mr. D. Bulb?”

“Too Demeter. Mouse?”

“Too squirrelly. Gem?”

Percy squints at her. “You’re the one who said Coral wasn’t soft enough. Why is Gem any better?”

Annabeth laughs. “I think we’re slightly off-topic, anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Percy takes another deep breath. “So. Seven months.”

“Seven months.”

“I guess we’re going to make a plan about it?”

“You know me so well.”

They start with the big problems and work their way down to the smaller ones.

“Do we think we need a new apartment or is our current one enough for now?”

“I think it’s fine for now, but we should look into getting a new one in about two years so they can have their own room.”

It goes on the list.

“Childcare,” Annabeth says.

“I’ve been talking to Juliet about setting up affordable childcare options for single mothers those past few weeks. If nothing else, we can get her in there. Plus, my mom would love to help out. So would most of our friends. And I could take them to work most days.”

“Seems easy enough.”

It goes on the list.

“Should I get a proper job?” Percy asks. Annabeth raises her eyebrows at him. “We’ll have more expenses with a child and my current job isn’t really making me any money.”

“But mine does. It’s enough to provide for two, should be enough for three if we have a look at our budget once in a while. Plus, if you not working a paying job means we don’t have to pay for childcare, that’s a boon.”

“I’m really glad you graduated top of your class and got the dream job so I could be your trophy husband. Did I ever tell you that?”

Annabeth affects an affronted air. “I always knew you only like me for the money.”

It doesn’t go on the list – neither Percy looking for a different job nor him being after spouse’s privileges.

“How about maternity leave?”

“I hope that I can work up until close to the delivery, maybe get some overtime stacked up, ease out via home office. I don’t want this to affect my career chances if I can help it.”

“I know.” Percy squeezes her hand. “And afterwards?”

“I hop that with some Ambrosia, I should be back on my feet rather quickly after childbirth. There is the issue about feeding them…”

“But you could pump or I could bring her by work.”

“Right. Goes on the list?”

“Goes on the list.”

They sit there until the sun has vanished and the air is getting cold. They’re far enough from the city that the stars peek out behind occasional clouds. They write a list that has more bullet points than the baby in Annabeth’s body has had days to grow. They talk about things that go on the list and things that don’t and things that have nothing to do with when the child is born, altogether.

“Magnet? Because I feel a pull towards them.”

“Sounds too much like maggot. Stamp? Because she’s going to leave a mark on our lives?”

“Feels a bit far-fetched, don’t you think? Polaris? Because they’re going to be our guiding light, our north star for the time to come?”

“But we do agree that it’s not going to be the final name?”

“Obviously.”

“Then I think I like Polaris.”

“Good. Now that the important questions are done with, want to go home?”

“I’d go anywhere with you.”

“That’s sweet. But I’m actually tired and want to go to bed.”

New York, 2022

“But my point is,” Leo says, his gestures too wide and his voice too loud and utterly content with himself as he takes another swig of whatever it is Pollux has been supplying them with. “The point is that they were assholes about it and they shouldn’t have been. You deserve better than that!”

Piper takes the bottle off him, takes a sip for herself. She tries nodding at the same time and some of the drink sloshes down onto her top. It smells like apples. “I know! And I’m trying to find something better, I do. But I don’t want to leave New York, and right now, it feels like all lawyers in New York are assholes.” She turns in the vague direction she seems to suspect New York to be in. “You hear that? You’re all assholes!”

Percy is rather glad that they’re at Camp and therefore too far away from anyone in New York hearing any of this. He’s also, for his part, glad that they’re out on the beach, instead of anywhere near to the cabins where the younger campers could be woken up by their drunken conversation – if it can even be called that.

“So then fuck all the lawyers – like not actually fuck them, but fuck them, you know what I’m saying? – and do something else!” Jason offers, too drunk to stand without support but not too drunk to stop giving vague advice.

“But I already got the stupid degree and I have the stupid student debt,” Piper whines. “And I don’t want to leave the po-... pre-… pros-…”

“Prostate,” Will shouts on a giggle before taking another sip of the gin he’d been holding onto for the past hour.

Percy is decidedly too sober for this crowd. The main thing keeping him here at all is Annabeth, barely awake and snuggled into his side.

“...profession,” Piper finally forces out. “I don’t want to leave the profession and I don’t want to stoop to their level. I just want them to be nice to me, you know? Not in the courtroom, but at least outside of it, you know?” She plops down in the sand next to Percy. “Plus, what else would I even do?”

“You could be… an actress!” Hazel says. She’s more sober than most of them, but also not quite at her best. “Or, like a diplomat!”

“Diplomat would be so cool!” Piper agrees. “But I think that if people do a proper background check on me, it’s gonna fall through.”

“If I couldn’t have my workshop, I’d build spaceships,” Leo says. “Or be a fire-eater. You know, like at the circus. I’d be amazing at that!”

Hazel looks oddly contemplative about the new topic, considering she makes her life selling rare stones she simply finds. “I think I’d like to have a ranch, then. With horses, somewhere where I could see the stars.”

“I’d run a ranch with you,” Frank agrees easily. “We could do a tourist thing. I could teach archery to the guests.”

“I’d go into music,” Will adds with too much conviction in his voice.

Nico scoffs at him. “We all know you can’t sing for shit. Or play any instrument that isn’t the triangle.”

“I know that, too. But it would be so fun!”

Percy groans. “Why does everyone know what their backup-profession would be when I’m actually trying to figure out what to do with my life right now?

Frank rolls his head from where it’s resting on Hazel’s shoulder so he can look at Percy. “I thought you were doing that community outreach thing?”

“Yeah, I was. I am.” He shakes his head. “But after over five years of it, it feels like I’m stuck more and more in administrative tasks. And Juliet doesn’t need me any more, not really. She’d never kick me out, but I’m superfluous at best, in the way at worst. I just… don’t know what else to do.”

He’d been rolling the thought around in his head for a few months, now. Had talked about it with Annabeth, even once with his mother. But nothing really seems for him. Everything seems to come with paperwork, with too many repetitive tasks.

“You could work at an aquarium,” Jason suggests.

Percy shakes his head. “And spend my days surrounded by animals that are locked up, that I can talk to? It’d be like working in a prison. I’d start breaking them out before the first month is up.”

Piper snaps her fingers with her new idea. “You could drive the Staten Island Ferry! You’d be on the water all day, every day.”

“I could, but I wouldn’t be allowed to unless I get a licence, which is, again, paperwork. Plus, a very repetitive job.”

Jason takes a deep breath to say something, but Leo cuts over them all. “You’re all wrong,” he says, confidently. “You’re all wrong, and you’re all stupid, because the answer is obvious.”

“Well, then tell us, oh most brilliant of my friends. Whatever profession should I get into?”

“Firefighting.”

Percy had taken a deep breath to shoot down whatever would come out of Leo’s mouth before he’d even spoken. Now, all that air leaves him with a surprised huff. “Huh?”

“See, it’d absolutely male sense. You’re good with the water stuff, and with the carrying people stuff and the first aid stuff. And sure, there’s a ceri-… cet-…” he breaks off, looks over at Piper, a little helpless.

It’s cute that Leo thinks that Piper of all people would help him, drunk as she is. It’s Hazel who jumps in. “Certification.”

“Yeah, that. There’s a certification process, but that’s mostly practical. And you get to hang around a cool firehouse all day until there’s actually stuff to do. And they got these really big trucks. And really nice people to work with. You know, because you’ve got that loyalty thing. And you get to help out with natural disasters, which you’d probably be good at, seeing the water thing and the earthquake thing.” He grabs the beer Frank had been holding onto, takes a sip, makes a face at the taste. “And did you know that New York has fire fighters on boats? They usually don’t fight fires, though. But they pull people out of the Hudson if they fall in and need help. You’d be so good at that!”

“How do you even know all that?” Percy asks, intrigued by the suggestion as much as he is surprised by it.

Piper cackles. “NYFD had to come to his workshop three times over the past year.”

“We said that would stay between us!”

“No, we said the fourth time would stay between us, that’s why I didn’t mention it!”

Percy tunes out their bickering and thinks about his future.

Percy brings it up with his mother the next morning when he goes to pick up the kids. “I could be a firefighter.”

Sally pauses in making pancakes to look at him. “I hadn’t thought about that. That might be a really good idea.”

“Leo suggested it.”

“So?”

“I don’t know. It’s just… there’s shifts, right?”

“Because your sleep pattern is so reliable?” She counters, turning back to her pancakes.

Percy shakes his head. “No, but… The kids…”

“Oh no, whatever will you do when your children need to stay somewhere for a night or a day?” Sally asks, pointedly looking around the room. And yeah, Percy has always known where his sass came from.

“But what if something happens and I’m caught in the middle of it?”

Sally laughs at that. Actually laughs. “Sorry. It’s just that I remember trying to ask you that same question about fifteen years ago and you didn’t really care.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t have children back then.”

“Yeah,” Sally volleys back, in the same tone, “but back then, you were off to fight giants and gods and mother earth herself. We’re talking about fires and collapsed buildings here, Percy. I think you’ll manage.”

“You think I should do it, then?”

“I think you should do whatever feels right to you. And you know what else you should do?”

“Talk to Annabeth about it?”

“Talk to Annabeth about it.”

“You do sound like you want to do this,” Annabeth remarks, still a bit hangover from drinking too much the night before but too stubborn to let it keep her from joining her family at the park.

Percy keeps his eyes on the kids at the playground while he answers. “Yeah, but what about them?”

“We’ll get them into childcare, it’ll be fine.”

“What if something happens?”

“To you, while on the job, or to them, while you’re not there to hover?” Annabeth pulls one foot up onto the bench they’re sitting at, rests her chin on her knee.

Percy shrugs. He doesn’t really have an answer for that. Maybe he’s clinging. Maybe he’s not quite ready to not be around his children all day.

But then again, it’s not like he’s around all the time, now. The kids spend time at their Grandmother’s, and with Katie, and even at daycare.

“What’s really your problem here?”

Percy lets out a long sigh. “Leo will never let me live this down.” Because really, that’s the only reason he can come up with that he doesn’t have an answer ready for immediately.

Annabeth’s laugh is music to his ears.

Percy looks at her, and he loves her. He looks at his children and is happy. He looks to the future and for the first time in a while know where it might lead.

To endless mockery from one of his best friends.

New York, 2024

Percy will never understand how people will say “they started it” and expect the first responders patching up a stab wound from a garden tool to agree that yes, actually, stabbing your neighbour through the shoulder because she wouldn’t properly weed the ground elder encroaching on the shared property line is a valid and measured response.

He gets back into the ambulance after handing off their stabbing victim to the hospital staff, knowing full well that her attacker is already in custody with the LAPD.

Miller, the paramedic he’s playing driver for today, hops up into the passenger’s seat. “One hour to go ‘til the end of shift. Let’s see what other kind of crazy this city has waiting for us.”

Percy pulls out of the parking lot, back onto the all-too busy streets of the city he loves and calls home. “Don’t jinx it, man. You know the crazy ones would take us more than an hour.”

Miller laughs. The rest of the trip back to the station passes in easy silence. The station itself is calm – or as calm as a fire station gets. A-shift is already filing in, getting ready to take over the station in a bit.

“Any big plans for the weekend?” he asks Miller as they head over to the common area, drop down on the worn-out couches. Because, as luck has it, their 48-hours off coincide with the weekend for once.

Miller shrugs, takes out his phone. “There’s this camping convention tomorrow I’m planning on taking a look at. You know my camper is on its last legs…”

So, Percy spends the last half-hour of their shift listening to what a good camper needs, how modern campers differ from the older models and how annoying it is that Miller’s camping cooker broke three times in the past two years.

Percy can think about a few other, more annoying things. Although, that might not be quite fair. He’d asked, after all. And Miller and himself might not have much in common as far as interests go, but he’s a decent guy, and easy enough to work with.

The apartment is weirdly silent when he gets back home, seeing as there should be three children and his wife here. As it stands, he only finds the latter, dressed in sportswear and pacing in the living room.

“Hi honey, I’m home,” Percy offers as the door shuts behind him.

Annabeth shoots him a look that tells him that the sass isn’t quite appreciated but doesn’t outright comment on it. “You wanna go for a run?”

“Sure. I was just thinking that I’ve been sitting too much those past 24 hours I was on shift.” He kisses her on the cheek and goes to change.

They’ve been doing this more often again, since the kids are there. Go running with their problems. Not running from their problems, they know that doesn’t work. Just loops and loops around Central Park until they’ve talked everything out. The apartment they moved to just before the twins were born is closer to the park than the one before, in a nicer neighbourhood, more convenient to run.

Percy waits to broach the conversation until they’re in Central Park, starts off with small talk. “The kids still with my mom?”

Annabeth nods. “Yeah. I asked her if she’d mind keeping them for another few hours. I promised we’d take Estelle to the movies next week in return.”

“I’d been planning on doing that, anyway.”

“I know that. Your mother knows that. Estelle knows that. Don’t worry. I’ve got a casserole for your mom waiting in our freezer.”

By the time their feet hit gravel, they’ve exhausted all the obvious topics of conversation that Percy is sure wouldn’t touch whatever the actual problem is. If it had been something about their family, Annabeth had told him right away.

So, this is probably work.

“I got offered a promotion,” Annabeth reveals as they veer left to start on their first loop.

Percy beams at her. “Annabeth, that’s great! Congratulations.” Then, he puts things together. This isn’t a celebratory run. This is a “there is a serious conversation we need to have”-run. “This is great, right?”

Annabeth’s forehead creases, her eyebrows scrunching together, hands restlessly scratching behind one ear. “It’s not in New York.”

They run past Belvedere Castle, past the duck pond.

Percy waits her out, knows she’ll keep talking once she knows what to say – how to say it.

“You know that even though the headquarters are here, the company has a few branches around the country.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that.”

“So, the second largest branch is in LA. The branch leader over there is set to retire in four years’ time. And they had a guy set up to be phased into the position. But now that guy’s wife has been diagnosed with early-stage Alzheimer’s and he’s gonna drop out of the company entirely.”

She quiets down while they run past a bunch of guys in their early twenties who look rather put-out about them still chatting even as they’re running at a faster pace.

“And the higher-ups here in New York have been a bit frustrated with lack of communication between LA and New York for a while now, so they’re angling to get someone they know to take over in LA, so that relations get better. They want someone younger, who’s already proven themselves here to phase in over there.”

Which makes sense, really. Because a company the size of the one Annabeth is working at can quickly come to a halt with the wrong people at the helm. But if they find the right person to…

Oh.

Oh.

“They want you to go to Los Angeles.”

Annabeth stops, slowly walks back to where Percy feels rooted to the spot.

The joggers from before run past, heads red, breaths panting.

“Yes.”

“They want you to lead the second largest branch of the company in four years,” Percy rephrases what he’s just been told.

“If the induction goes well, yes.”

Percy closes the distance between them, gathers her up in a hug. “This is amazing. You deserve this.”

Annabeth preens at the praise. “Thank you.”

“When do they want you to leave?”

Annabeth knocks their temples together, chuckles. “I haven’t even given them an answer. Said I’d have to talk to you, first.”

“But you’ve asked, right?”

Annabeth leans back a bit, plays with the wooden beads on Percy’s necklace. “I did. They didn’t really give me much of an answer, though. They seem… rather motivated to get me to accept that job, are willing to make concessions. But if I take the job, they’d probably want me to leave within the next six months, at the latest.”

“If you take the job? Of course, you’re taking the job. You’ve been working for this for years, Wise Girl. No chance you’re passing up this opportunity.”

Percy nods to himself, the beginnings of a todo-list already forming in his mind. And doesn’t that speak of over a decade of living with a daughter of Athena? Percy Jackson, making plans…

“I mean, I have no idea what’s the real estate market is over there. But getting something in that time frame should be doable, right? We’d have to get childcare for the twins sorted out, but I’m sure that can’t be too hard, what do you think? Zoe will…” he breaks off when he feels Annabeth laughing into the crook of his neck.

He can feel the tension leaking from her shoulders, some concern she’d be carrying being alleviated with his words. “How did I ever think you’d let me accept a job on the other side of the country without immediately planning to move there with me?”

“What would be the alternative? Ask you to not take the job? No way!”

Annabeth runs a hand through his hair, her smile incredibly soft. “I could accept the job in LA, get a flat there. I could spend the weekends here, have Mrs. O’Leary shadowtravel me over whenever needed. You could stay here, with your family, with our friends.”

It’s not really a suggestion, the way Annabeth says it. It’s a fact, an option, something other people might to.

“You’re my family. And we’ll make new friends. LA has a coastline, which is nice, and they’ve got firefighters, too. The twins will find new friends, they’re so focussed on each other most of the time that they’ll barely complain that they won’t get to see their other friends as much. And Zoe hasn’t been happy at her school, anyway. We’ve already been looking to get her into one that caters more to her needs.”

“You wouldn’t get to see Sally as often. Or Estelle.”

“What, so you can suggest to move to the other side of the country and keep in contact with your husband and children via shadow travel. But if I suggest to do that with my sister and mother, that’s not enough time spent together?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear what you’re saying.” Annabeth tugs on his hand, and they’re off running again. “You sure about this, though?”

“Annabeth, I’ve followed you to the depths of hell. I’ll happily follow you to Los Angeles. As long as we’re together.”

Annabeth bumps their shoulders together.

“As long as we’re together.”

Chapter Text

Some mornings are easier than others.

This Tuesday morning at the Han-household begins with Jee-Yun complaining about a stomach ache and then promptly throwing up onto her pyjamas. So, in-between getting Jee changed, calling the daycare to inform them his daughter won’t be in today and setting the kid up in her bed with a bucket and a hot bottle, Chimney gently nudges Maddie awake.

She’d had the late shift, had crawled into bed around midnight and would usually get to sleep in today. But he has to be at work for a 24-hour shift in under an hour, so this is how it goes.

Maddie grumbles, less out of annoyance and more out of sleep-deprivation. She drags herself out of bed, checks in on their daughter, then pushes her husband out the door. “Go to work. I’ve got this.”

Chimney arrives at the firehouse early enough for him to change and be in the kitchen with his first coffee by the time Percy shows up.

The rest of the crew is there, too, already sprawled around the loft, having lazy morning conversations. But Chim isn’t the last one in, so he naturally decides to focus on their newest member – who looks even worse for wear than Chimney feels after the morning he’s had.

“You alright, man?” he asks Percy.

Percy trudges over to the fridge, pours himself a cup of orange juice, sits down heavily at the kitchen isle. “Long night,” he sighs.

Chimney waggles his brows. “Not something people usually complain about,” he teases.

Percy looks at him for a long moment, confusion clear on his face. Then, he rolls his eyes. “No like that. The twins caught some stomach bug, been throwing up constantly for two days.”

“Oh, so that’s where Jee caught it.”

Percy looks at him, long and tired and almost expressionless. “Well, fuck. I’m sorry about that.”

“Not like you did it on purpose.” In fact, Jee had been begging her parents all of last week that she wanted to hang out with her new best friends again, so they’d set up another playdate over the weekend.

It explains Percy’s tired … everything, though. If Chimney’s morning had been stretched over 48 hours, doubled by two kids and made heavier by having to look after another kid, he’s sure he’d be looking even worse.

The day starts off slow, with a kitchen fire and a medical call and a lot of downtime in between. Back from the third call of the day, getting a teenaged boy unstuck from collapsed scaffolding, Bobby takes them off rotation for lunch.

Percy is looking like hell warmed over, but is still pulling his weight at clean-up, just as always. When they’re done at the trucks, waiting for Buck and Bobby to finish lunch, Percy slumps down at the kitchen counter once again, resting his head on his arms.

“You good there, Percy?” Bobby asks, putting a glass of water in front of the guy.

Percy takes it listlessly, sips at it. It seems to get some energy back into him, as he blinks away the exhaustion lingering in his form. “Just a bit tired. I’ll be honest with you, I love the adrenaline of this job just as much as the next guy, but I’m really glad this shift is a bit more q-”

“No!”

“Stop!”

“Don’t say it!”

Percy shuts his mouth abruptly as Chimney, Buck and Hen cut over him hurriedly. He looks at them, takes in their agitated faces, the concern in them.

“Don’t say what?”

“The q-word,” Buck says.

Percy stares some more. “What q-word?”

“What you were just about to say.”

“Q-” he cuts himself off as he sees the horrified expressions around him, starts anew. “You mean the q-word describing something sssilent or c...alm?”

Buck nods, all the earnestness in his face the topic deserves. “It’s cursed.”

Eddie snorts. Buck throws him a look.

“Whenever the q-word is uttered at the station,” Chim takes over the conversation, “it’s followed by the most taxing, excruciating shift you can imagine, with the craziest, most stupid cases you can imagine, too.”

“No uttering the q-word,” Percy acquiesces easily. “Got it.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me you believe those superstitions. There’s no such thing as curses.”

“Would if I could, man. Would if I could.” Percy looks far too amused by the topic, eve though he’s still lacking the energy to do much about it.

Chim wants to keep the conversation going, wants to ask Percy what his experiences with curses are. But Percy clearly lacks the energy for that conversation, so instead, he lets the conversation drift onto another topic.

Lunch is amazing as always what Bobby’s in charge of it, but the afternoon drags along. By three in the afternoon, they get called to Pasadena to support with a building collapse. They’re far from the first ones on scene, offering support where needed and doing some crowd control.

Chimney puts band-aids on scrap wounds and wraps a sprained wrist. Hen sutures the gash in a kid’s plush elephant. Buck entertains a pair of siblings whose mother had been taken to the hospital and whose father is yet to arrive home. Percy and Eddie help put up a perimeter to keep people away.

Bobby is in and out, coordinates with the other captains on the ground, with the incident commander, with dispatch.

It takes another two hours until they’re on their way back.

Then, because even thinking the q-word too loud seems to have them down on their luck, there’s an accident on the 110 and they get stuck in traffic. Bobby tries blaring the sirens, but with the afternoon rush filling the streets, cars had been cramped from the beginning. Now, with nowhere to go, they can’t even make an emergency corridor for the 118 to squeeze through with the engine.

Bobby calls it in, tells dispatch they’re stuck until further notice and to not attempt to send any first responders from this direction.

It could have been worse, honestly. They don’t have a patient with them, they’re not rushing anywhere. They would have taken a break to have dinner once they’re back at the station, anyway.

So they settle in for the wait.

Chim rearranges his feet with Percy’s opposite him so he can lean over and look at the pictures Hen had taken of Denny and Mara at the beach the day before. Percy stretches out one leg. In the sparse room of the engine, his ankle presses against Chim’s calf.

When Hen turns to Percy to show him the pictures too, the man’s asleep.

Hen stops, stares. So does Chim.

Percy’s head is leant against the window, one arm pressed against Hen’s, one leg against Chim’s. His chest raises and falls with deep, even breaths. Chimney raises a hand to his face, waves it in front of closed eyes.

“He’s asleep,” he notes, incredulous.

It catches Buck’s and Eddie’s attention, too.

“He never sleeps on shift,” Buck says. Which, up until this very moment, had been true. “Must really be knackered.”

“Which means we’re going to let him sleep,” Bobby gently cuts in from the front of the vehicle. “Not like we’ve got anything better to do.

They lower their voices while they wait another thirty minutes for the cars in front of them to move enough that they can at least make it out. Percy sleeps through it, and through the drive back to the station.

They carefully leave the engine, making sure not to jostle Percy as they extract themselves from the close-contact they’ve had during the drive. “We’ll wake him for dinner if he hasn’t woken up by then,” Bobby decides as he heads up to get to the kitchen.

It’s not often they do their chores without chattering all the way, but nobody wants to upset Percy in his sleep. So, Hen and Chimney restock the ambulance with barely a dozen words exchanged between them. Buck gets panic blankets from the storage room as they left some in Pasadena while Eddie restocks the water bottles they offer people on scene.

Distantly, Bobby clatters around the kitchen.

Everything is peaceful.

A piercing scream cuts through the air. Hen whirls around, Chim hit his shoulder against the door of the ambulance. Buck drops the blankets he’d been storing away and follows Eddie in a sprint around the engine.

By the time Chim steps around the ambulance, Percy is on his feet. Eyes wide but unseeing, he’s blindly flailing around in a panic.

He almost hits Eddie in the face, but some of that army training must have stuck, because Eddie’s arm flies up to block the punch before it can do any harm. He grabs onto the flailing limb and against all odds, that seems to be the thing to get Percy out of that panic of a nightmare he’s been having.

He blinks, eyes snapping back open with renewed focus. His breath comes in heavy pants.

He immediately zeroes in on Eddie, on the hand clutching his wrist. “Shit. Did I hurt you?”

“No, man,” Eddie says, voice not quite soft, but warmer than it is most of the time. “Gave us one hell of a scare, though.”

For a moment, they just stand there, all five of them.

Hen and Chim by the ambulance, Buck halfway in between the ladder truck and the engine. Eddie, still holding Percy’s wrist, one finger not-so-subtly resting against his pulse point.

Bobby pauses halfway down the stairs to the loft, no doubt alerted by the shouting and then readjusting to the situation already being taken care of.

Percy lets his gaze flit between them, never quite resting on any one of them. “Did I fall asleep in the engine?”

Hen hums in agreement. “You already looked pretty beat, earlier, so we thought we’d let you sleep.” There’s something apologetic in her tone.

Chim gets it. He’d been all for letting Percy sleep while he has the chance – heavens know he probably wasn’t planning on taking the free bed in the bunk room for the night.

But at the same time, they hadn’t known that this would be the outcome of Percy falling asleep here. Hadn’t known he gets nightmares, apparently.

“How long… When did we get back?”

“About ten minutes ago.”

Percy squeezes his eyes shut, as if Buck’s words pain him. When he opens them again, he very deliberately squares his shoulders and meets each of their gazes. “I’m sorry I startled you. I…” He lets out a long sigh. “Can we have this conversation over dinner? I’m not at my best right now and I think I need a shower.”

It’s Eddie who reacts first; Eddie, who’s still holding Percy’s wrist and blocking his way out of the engine. He nods, drops the hold he has on Percy, moves out of the way. “Sure, of course.”

Percy offers small smiles to each of them as he passes, heads off towards the showers.

Even though there is no longer anyone asleep to be silent for, they complete the rest of their chores in the same silence they started them. When they get up to the loft, Bobby is busy in the kitchen, but looks up with a concerned frown as they climb the stairs.

“Everything alright with Jackson?”

Buck nods, heads over to wash his hands. “Yeah, maybe. Should I get started on the salad?”

When Percy joins them just as dinner is ready, he looks significantly better. Chimney can’t tell if it’s the hour of sleep he got or the shower he took, but there is some energy in him.

None of them press the issue. Sure, they’re all up into each other’s business, and they wouldn’t have let it rest until the end of shift. But they’re willing to wait until they’re done with dinner, at least.

In the end, they don’t have to wait and see when the first of them would crack and press the issue, because Percy brings the conversation up himself. “I get nightmares.”

So far, so obvious.

“It’s the reason I avoid sleeping at the station, I don’t want to wake up screaming. This way, at least you guys are getting to sleep.”

And listen, Chim has had front row seats to the Buckley school of denying yourself things for the past few years. He knows how this works, knows how this makes sense if you look at it at the right angle. He also has years of practice trying to bully people like this into practising some self-care. But that’s still a work in progress.

Bobby, of course, has a more professional approach. “Have you thought talking about it with a therapist?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Percy shrugs, like it’s easy and obvious. “And it’s even gotten better. But I’m not sure I’ll ever completely get past this.”

“You’re going to therapy?” Buck blurts out, attention catching at the new information.

Percy’s smile turns bashful. “I had a colourful childhood”, he says in way of explanation. And then he leaves it at that.

Hen tries to get them back on topic. “But sleeping didn’t seem to be a problem while we were in transit, was it? And surely, this isn’t as much of a problem at home? Was it the engine running? Because we could put up a white noise machine or something.”

Percy smiles, soft and grateful. “That’s nice, but it wasn’t the sounds. It’s…” He’s absent-mindedly shredding a piece of bread in between his fingers, rolls it into little balls before popping them into his mouth. “I get a bit jumpy whenever my subconscious decides I’m alone and in possible danger.”

A bit jumpy is quite the understatement, in Chim’s professional opinion.

“But then, why…” Hen’s gaze jumps from Percy to Chimney and back. “Oh. You were touching Chim and myself in the engine, but we left you alone when we got back.”

Percy raises his gaze from the obliterated piece of dough on his plate to look at Hen. Yes, you did, his eyes seem to say. But what comes out of his mouth is “Which was a perfectly normal thing to do.”

“How did you manage in New York, then? I’m sure you didn’t stay awake through all of your shifts? They do 48 hour shifts over there regularly, don’t they?” Buck asks. And of course he’d know about something like that.

“Uh, no. But the station I was at was directly at the Hudson and the captain would allow me to put up a cot closer to the water so I wouldn’t wake up the others. Flowing water helps almost as well as physical touch.”

“We don’t have a body of water nearby and I doubt you’d want to camp out in the showers,” Bobby says, already looking for solutions just like the rest of them.

Percy offers him a smile, genuine if tired. “It’s fine. Something will work itself out.”

They don’t get to finish the conversation because the alarm blares to call them to a fire down-town.

By the time they get back, everyone is so tired they’ve all but forgotten the conversation from before.

It only hits them when they’re already getting settled for the night. They’re in the smaller of the two bunk-rooms, the one with only five beds.

Bobby has his own cot in a corner of his office. It had started that way when he’d first come to the station and he’d been so removed from everyone that he’d put his privacy over many other things. And even as they’d gotten closer, that hadn’t changed. Bobby sleeps in his office, the four of them in the smaller of the bunk-rooms, the rest of the shift sharing the larger room with the better equipment.

(Bobby had offered to upgrade that room’s furniture, as well. But exchanging the sturdy wooden frames against the sleek metal ones in the other room seems fruitless, especially since the mattresses are just as new as in the other room.)

The room is longer then it is wide, with two bunks pressed flat to the wall on either side and one on the short wall opposite the door.

Chimney is already sitting on his bed – the first to the right. Hen’s got the one next to him, their cushions separated by only their headboards. Eddie’s bed at the short end of the room is still empty, but Buck is lying down on his bed already – the one one the left wall further from the door. Him and Eddie sleep corner to corner like that, able to chat in respectful quiet just as Chim and Hen do on occasion.

Right now, though, Buck is still wiggling about, caught in his nightly ritual of trying to fit his too tall body into a too short bed. Even as his hair brushes the headboard, his feet are kicking the board at the end of the bed.

The fifth bed – the one that should rightfully be Percy’s – stands just left to the door, empty.

“Kick it a bit harder, why don’t you, see if it gives in,” Eddie remarks with a smile as he enters the room.

The kick Buck aims at the board is soft, so is the look he directs at Eddie.

Then suddenly, his eyes go wide. “I’ve got an idea,” he exclaims, already darting out of the room. “I gotta talk to Bobby! Someone get Percy!”

When Buck returns to the room not ten minutes later, Percy is sitting next to Chim.

Buck is holding a chainsaw.

“Whoa, dude, no need for drastic measures,” Percy says half-jokingly.

Chim grins. “Yeah, wasn’t it enough that you got to chase Ravi around with that thing back when he was a probie?”

Percy splutters. “He did what to whom?”

“Ravi. Guy from B-shift. Tends to cover a lot if someone on A-shift is missing. Back when he was a probie, Buck did-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck cuts in. “You just laugh at me. Then maybe, I’ll never tell you my idea.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not overly comfortable with sleeping in a room with a guy holding a chainsaw. So please, dear Buck, tell us about your idea so I can get some sleep.” Hen, always the voice of reason.

“Thank you, Henrietta.” Hen rolls her eyes at the full name. Buck ignores her in favour of addressing Percy. “You can’t sleep without some form of physical touch.” He waits for the reluctant nod, then turns to the room at large (at large, as if they weren’t all but five people in here). “I can barely lay straight in that bed because it’s too damn short-”

(“There are a few other things I could list that you aren’t able to do straight,” Hen comments under her breath. Buck ignores her once again. Chim low-fives her.)

“- and these footboards serve no structural purpose.”

“So what, you’re going to saw off the footboards and play footsie with Jackson every night?” Eddie asks, a bit baffled by the suggestion.

But Buck’s beam just widens. “Pretty much, yeah. It’s a win-win-situation. What do you say?”

Percy looks at Buck with something like awe and Chimney can practically see him come to a realization. The realization that this is real, this is family, they show up for each other.

“We can’t just saw apart the bed,” he argues, but Buck waves the concern away.

“Already cleared it with Bobby. We’re good.”

And they are.

They’re better than good.

They’re giddy as they help Buck pull the mattresses from the bed so the saw won’t damage them. They’re teasing as Percy darts off to get the vacuum cleaner to get rid of the sawdust. They’re laughing while Percy settles into bed and they’re kind as they wish each other a good night’s sleep. They’re tired when they close their eyes and they’re wide awake within seconds when it’s a five-alarm fire an hour before dawn that makes the alarm scream them out of bed instead of Percy’s nightmares.

And through it all, they’re family.

Chapter Text

BBQs at the Grant/Nash-residence are always fun when they manage to find a date that agrees with everyone. Adding new people to the mix might change the dynamic, Hen is looking forward to it all the same.

The Jackson family shows up twenty minutes late with cinnamon buns and a salad. The kids set off to join the other children in the garden while Annabeth and Percy meet the adults in the open kitchen space.

“I’m sorry we’re late, but my mom called and said the conversation shouldn’t wait,” Percy says as he sets down the bowl of salad.

“Anything serious?” Athena asks immediately. She might take longer than the rest of them to warm up to new people, hasn’t spent as much time with Percy yet. Still, there is real concern in her voice.

“Not really. Just wanted to know how and why my sixteen-year-old sister knows how to break someone’s nose.”

His answer is first met with stunned silence, then with a flood of questions.

“What? Why?”

“How does that even come up?”

“Why would she ask you about that?”

“Is your sister alright?”

“She’s perfectly fine, didn’t even bruise her knuckles. Mom asked me about it because Annabeth and I are the ones who taught her self-defence and it came up because she broke someone’s nose.” The answers come easily, like they’re just talking about the weather, or exchanging recipes.

“I’d like to come back to my initial question,” Chim chimes in, “which would be: What? Why?”

For a long moment, Percy looks at the shorter man, apparently genuinely thinking about the question.

“You know what? That actually didn’t come up. Self-defence, I assume.” With all their questions answered, Percy apparently views the topic as closed as he turns to Bobby. “Do you still have space in the fridge? The salad could use it until we’re ready to eat.”

Annabeth comes over to Hen and Karen to introduce herself to the only person in the room she hadn’t met on the call a few weeks back. Karen is delighted at the new addition to their group. “Hen tells me you’re a civil engineer,” she says and the two happily chatter away about their respective fields of work.

Annabeth comes off softer today than when they first met her during that call a few weeks back. Now that she’s in jeans and a shirt instead of business attire, now that she leans easily into Percy’s side instead of keeping a professional distance.

The looks she shoots over at her kids in odd intervals aren’t too different from the way she’d looked at the workers on the construction site, Hen thinks. But beneath the attention and the care is a clear love for her family that shines through every movement.

“Would you mind me calling you ‘Thena?”, she asks their hostess early in the evening. “I get that I might not have earned calling you by a nickname, but I don’t think I’d be able to call you by my mother’s name.”

Athena laughs at the question, a bit surprised at the consideration. “But of course.” Athena isn’t quite as quick at letting people into her circle of trust as the rest of them might be, but Percy very quickly started feeling like family.

Hen likes working with him. Percy’s good at what they do, he’s fast, he’s strong, he makes good decisions. There’s a recklessness about him, sometimes, sure. But it’s not the way Buck had been in the beginning. Not careless, not dangerous.

Percy’s strand of recklessness is more in a way where he knows what he can and can’t do so well that he sometimes forgets that other’s don’t have that same insight. So he sometimes rushes into a situation, rushes through it without complication and only notices afterwards that he should have taken the time to communicate his plan.

But he’s getting better at that, too.

The Jackson kids are absolutely adorable.

Hen had heard many a story from Chimney in the past few weeks about play-dates between the twins and Jee-Yun. But seeing it with her own eyes, Hen is still surprised at just how similar two fraternal twins can look.

Their older sister, Zoe, hasn’t said a single word since arriving, but still seems to be having fun. Athena had pulled out a large box with wooden bricks and Zoe’s eyes had lit up as soon as she’d seen them. Mara had joined her without any prompting, and now the two girls are sitting in front of the fireplace, erecting buildings far more elaborate than Mara finds the patience or skill to do on her own.

Annabeth retakes the free spot next to Hen, hands the extra glass of wine to Karen. She follows Hen’s line of sight to the living room. “I’m glad they get along,” she says, something like relief in her face. “I was worried when we left New York.”

“About leaving behind their friends? Did they put up much of a fight?”

Annabeth takes a sip of her wine, shakes her head. “I don’t think the twins quite understood the magnitude of the change. Plus, they have each other and make fast friends wherever they go.” She lets out a sigh, sets down her glass. “Zoe didn’t really have any good friends in New York in the first place. All our friend’s kids are either a few years older or few years younger than her. But that’s not what I meant.”

Inside, the intricate building Zoe and Mara had erected wobbles dangerously as Mara tries to put a new stone on it. Zoe saves it, shows Mara how to set down the new structure without damaging the previous one.

“In New York, we had friends, family, a network. People our kids could go to when they needed to be somewhere safe that wasn’t with us.”

Hen gets that that’s an important thing for children at a certain age. But the Jackson kids are fairly young for that kind of concern.

Annabeth goes on. “When I was Zoe’s age, I ran away from home.”

There must be more of a story about that, but Hen doesn’t quite dare to ask. They don’t really know each other, after all.

“And in the end, everything worked out okay. But I didn’t have anywhere to turn to and I was alone until I found strangers kind enough to take me in who became my family in the time after.” She shrugs. “I just don’t want my kids to feel like they have nowhere to turn to. And it feels like they don’t have to.”

Bobby’s food is spectacular, as it always is. Everyone makes the appropriate appreciative noises at him. But the food brought by the Jacksons is nothing to scowl at, either.

“But why are they blue?” Chris asks, eyeing the cinnamon buns and seeming to contemplate if they’re safe to eat.

Zoe, Tessa and Benji don’t seem to have any issues with the colour, like the blue colour is the natural state of baked goods in the Jackson household. Percy grins and shrugs. “Because blue food is awesome.”

Chris notably isn’t convinced by the answer. God, it feels like he was a tiny seven-year-old just yesterday. When did he turn into a teenager with sarcasm in his gaze?

“See, blue is my favourite colour. And my mom’s first husband said that there’s no blue food. And both my mom and I took that as a challenge. So, whenever we bake, we put some food colouring in so it’s blue.”

The explanation seems to be enough for Chris who takes a careful bite of the cinnamon roll and hums in satisfaction at the taste.

“That sounds like a lot of food colouring, and a lot of baking,” Maddie notes. “Why not just buy blue food?”

Percy shrugs. “Because there isn’t much blue food out there. Even blueberries are more purple than blue most of the time. And even when you go to the artificial stuff – we all know gummy worms aren’t red because of the strawberries that never touched them – blue is for some reason just not a popular colour for food.”

“Yeah, because that’s basically FDA standard practices,” Buck says. Throws the statement out there, like it’s something they should just know.

Percy whips his head around to face him. “Come again?”

“I watched a documentary about food processing,” Buck replies in what might be one of the most Buck sentences ever. “And basically, most of the plastic components in the factories for food are blue. Because blue doesn’t appear naturally in food. So, if you find blue particles in food in the processing plant, you know that one of the machines is damaged and a sealing gasket is crumbling into the product or something like that, you know? And because it’s mostly that rather specific shade of bright blue, they can even put up cameras and use that as a quality management tool.”

Percy stares at him for a bit. Then, he turns to Annabeth. “How did I not know that?”

Buck shrugs, even with the question not being addressed at him. “To be fair, the documentary wasn’t very interesting. But it was as I was recovering from the lightning strike, so I had a fair bit of time on my hands.”

Annabeth and Percy now both turn to face him. “Recovering from the what now?” they ask in perfect unison. And they’re off to the next topic, swapping work stories over dinner.

The evening ends, as they often do, when the kids get tired and mopey and need to get put to bed. Maddie and Chimney leave first with Jee-Yun asleep in her car seat before they’re even down the street.

As soon as they’re gone, Benji and Tessa hit their limit for the day, suddenly bereft of their new best friend. Annabeth and Percy, who’d come by bike as the don’t live too far away, stow the twins into a bicycle trailer while Zoe gets to ride on the back of Annabeth’s bike.

Zoe being gone means Maya doesn’t really have anyone to play with as the boys are a good bit older than her and she’s pretty tired, too. They hug goodbye, Athena walks them to the door.

Mara wakes up as Hen carries her into bed. “Can we do that again? I like Zoe.”

Hen smiles, pats her head. “I’m sure we can.”

Because maybe, this is good for all of them.

Maybe, if Jee-Yun gets the twins, and Maya gets Zoe and Karen gets Annabeth, then the 118 gets Percy, and they get to keep them as family.

My Daughter Decked A Dude

                         by Sally Blofis

If you raise two children with a significant age difference, and if the older of the two has had a rather colourful childhood, you might find yourself thinking “no matter what the younger one does, I’ll deal with it, because I’ve dealt with it before”.

Don’t listen to that voice, it’s the devil speaking. Or, in my case, ignorance.

So, I get a call from the school, telling me to come in because my daughter Sage got into a fight.

Alright, I think, as I get into my car and drive to the school. Been there, done that, had that conversation what feels like a hundred times because of my son Blue. Get in there, make sure the kid’s alright, grovel to the principal, have a talk with Sage, hope that it doesn’t happen again, be ready for when it does.

I’m more concerned about my daughter than the talk with the principal, so I head straight to the nurse’s office. Sage isn’t there. Instead, I find a jock with a bloody nose.

I ask the nurse where my daughter is. She sends me to the principal’s office. Sage is chatting with the secretary when I get there. She looks unharmed.

Apparently, against everything I’ve experienced before, my kid is both uninjured after a fight and not in trouble for being in said fight in the first place. She defended a classmate from a bully, had a friend run to get a teacher, tried to de-escalate the situation. When the bully turned their attention on her, she reacted on instinct.

The first punch landed in their gut, the second in their face. Pure luck, if good or bad lays in the eye of the beholder.

The principal tells me that they don’t condone violence on school grounds and that they’re very sorry my daughter was forced into a position where she had to defend herself and a fellow student from such attacks.

I get to take her home.

“Are you alright?” I ask her again, as we are in the car on our way home.

Sage shrugs, impartial as only a teenager can be. “You should see the other guy.”

I think I did.

I think about how many times I had been called after Blue had gotten into a fight. I think about how trouble always seemed to find him, and how he kept having to bear the consequences of his bad luck.

I’m glad that it’s different for Sage. I’m glad that she got out of this unscathed.

But there is still that voice at the back of my head, still that devil on my shoulder. “Blue is his father’s son,” it seems to say. “But just how much is Sage her mother’s daughter?”

Chapter Text

No matter how many years into the job, there’s still that spike of adrenaline Buck gets every time the alarm goes off. Immediately, the station erupts into busy motion as everyone jumps up to hurry to a scene.

In the engine, Buck slots into place next to Percy who’s frowning at his phone.

“Everything alright?”

Percy shrugs, buts puts the phone away. “Yeah. It’s just that my ma is worried about my sister. She’s been acting up lately, and ma can’t quite say if it’s just teenage drama or if it’s more serious.”

“You’re worried about her?”

“Always. She’s my baby sister.”

Eddie huffs. “I get the feeling. I never quite stopped being worried about my sisters, either.”

Buck doesn’t know how well their experiences line up. The age difference for Eddie isn’t as large as it is for Percy. But from what Percy has told them, he’s never been expected to be “the man of the house”, either.

“Estelle says she wants to comes over for a visit, ma insists that she should finish out the school year. It’s only a few weeks left, after all, right?” He runs a hand through hair that’s too messy from the start. “But I don’t want her doing anything rash in the meantime.”

“She prone to rash decisions?” Hen asks, because of course, they’ll try and tackle this as a team.

Percy shakes his head. “Not really, no. But her entire life, she’s always had a safety net that’s as wide as the Empire State Building is tall. And I’m scared that she’ll do something on her own and not think through all the consequences because she’s never had to.”

“Something like what?”

“Something like getting on a plane and flying over here even though ma expressively forbid it.”

“You think she’d do that?”

“Honestly? No. But until a week ago, I wouldn’t have thought she’d break a guy’s nose – even though I personally taught her how.”

The conversation is cut short when their headsets come alive with Bobby’s voice. “We’re looking at a multiple-vehicle-accident. Two minutes out.”

They all snap to, abandoning the conversation for a later time. They check their gear, put away phones, put on their helmets. When the engine comes to a halt, they jump out like the well-versed crew they are.

They’ve arrived at the end of a bridge, just far enough out that they have the space to comfortably park all their vehicles. The scene is chaotic, yet the likely order of events seem clear:

At the centre of the mayhem is a horse-drawn carriage. It’s decked out all in white, a screaming woman in a white wedding dress trapped inside, a man in a tux is pinned in place on the perch, already unconscious. One of the two tall white horses in front of the carriage must have spooked and tried to get away by jumping the concrete barrier to the other lane. The carriage has toppled over from the sudden movement, trapping humans and horses alike in positions they can’t easily escape from.

From there, cars crashed after emergency break procedures, resulting in no less than eight damaged vehicles – carriage not included.

Bobby immediately gets to assigning tasks. “Han, Wilson, get the carriage driver and the bride. Diaz, Jackson-”

Percy interrupts him. “I’m good with horses, let me take care of them.”

With the way the horse stuck on the concrete barrier is thrashing, it’ll be a struggle to do much of anything about the people trapped in the carriage – especially if they need to use power tools.

Bobby takes one look at Percy, adjusts his orders. “Jackson, Buckley, see to the horses. Diaz, see if there’s anyone in the other vehicles that needs immediate attention.”

They all set off to do what they’re told.

“You’ve ever been around horses?” Percy asks as they head over to the carriage.

Buck nods. “Worked on a ranch for a summer before I became a firefighter.” He doesn’t ask how Percy – a city kid from everything he’s told them – got to spend a lot of time around horses. They’ve got time for that, later.

They jump the concrete barrier so they can approach the horses from the front instead of coming from the back and startling them even more.

One of the horses got off lucky. It’s standing with all its hooves still safely on the ground, even while throwing its head around in a tizzy. The other one – the one who’d tried to jump the balustrade before being stopped by the rigging of the carriage – is in an arguably worse situation. Both hind legs still on the ground, the forelegs are hanging in the air by a good few inches while the armpits – or whatever the correct equestrian term might be – are stuck on the balustrade.

To add insult to injury, a red Toyota has crashed into the same balustrade just inches from the horse’s flailing hooves. The driver, a scared looking young man, turns to look at Buck and Percy as they approach.

“Sir, are you alright?” Buck asks.

He nods. “Y-Yes. But my door is crammed, I can’t get out.”

“That’s alright,” Buck replies. “Our colleagues will be with you in a moment to help you.” He can already hear the sirens of another approaching fire house.

Percy meanwhile is already walking past the car, towards the stuck horse. Stuck or no, the horse is still kicking widely, eyes so wide the white shows, sweat streaming down its neck.

“Whoa there, hello.” Percy’s voice is soothing and gentle as he approaches, the horse’s gaze immediately zeroing in on him. “Looks like you found yourself in a bit of a situation here. Mind if I take a look?”

Against all odds, the horse actually calms down in the face of Percy’s approach. Its breaths are still coming heavily, but the ears are turned forwards, the hooves stop their incessant kicking.

Percy goes up to the horse, runs a hand down its neck, pats it behind one ear. “I’m gonna get you out of this stuff, then we can see about getting you off this balustrade, alright?” His fingers deftly undo the buckles of the bridle.

“Can you get off the tack?” Percy addresses Buck.

Buck carefully climbs over the balustrade again, approaches the scared animal from the side. “You sure it’s a good idea to get it free from all the equipment? It’ll spook and run as soon as it’s down from there.”

“You won’t run from us, will you?” Percy asks the horse, which is watching him with the kind of attention horses usually only give to long-loved riders.

Buck gets to taking off the tack. He unbuckles what he can and cuts through the rest. The task is made significantly easier by the fact the horse just lets it happen, gently huffing in Percy’s general direction instead of acting like the flighty animal it is.

Done with getting the horse free from the carriage, Buck returns to Percy’s side to figure out how they can free it from the balustrade. The concrete comes up to Buck’s midriff, just high enough to incapacitate the horse, but low enough to easily look over.

“If we can get it to plant its foot onto something, we might have a chance of just backing him off this thing,” Buck suggests.

Percy nods contemplatively. “Yeah, but what to you want her to step on? It’s not like there’s a lot of natural stairs here.”

It might not be a natural stair, but Buck’s gaze lands on the Toyota nearby. Paramedics from the 125 are already getting the driver out the totalled car. It’s in a good position, and if they manage to plant the hooves on the hood and then get the horse to shuffle sideways so it can step up to the roof…

Buck explains the plan to Percy who is immediately on board with the idea. Buck gets anti-slip mats from the ladder truck and a few minutes later, the horse is standing on four hooves again. Sure, two of those hooves are still on the wrong side of a balustrade and planted firmly on a red Toyota, but they’re tackling one problem at a time, here.

As Percy coaxes the horse to step sideways and plant her hooves on the roof of the car, the animal misjudges the distance, planting the hoof on the roof proper instead of the anti-slip mat and flailing as she looses her hold.

Percy is quick to calm her down – and the guy really didn’t lie when he’d said that he’s good with horses. From there, it’s easy enough for Percy to get the horse rearing up onto her hind legs and putting them back down on the other side.

Buck retrieves the anti-slip mats from the top of the car, runs a hand over the distinctive scratch in the roof. A complicated look flashes over Percy’s face as he follows the movement.

“If I had a nickel for every time I was party to putting hoof prints on the roof of a Prius,” he mutters as he climbs over the balustrade to check over the horse and keep it from bolting, “I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s still weird that it happened twice.”

They find a halter in the back of the carriage and put it on the first horse while Percy gets the second one out of the rigging as well. Percy gets some towels from the engine, rubs the horses down, talks to them, finds some kibble in the carriage to feed to them. By the time Buck and Percy finish up with the horses, Eddie, Hen and Chim have cleared the two humans from the carriage as well. Most of the people from the cars involved in the accident are either cleared or on their way to a hospital, tow-trucks are on scene to clear the road, LAPD is on scene and managing traffic.

A horse transporter arrives on scene and – after asking where he can find the horses later to check up on them – Percy coaxes both horses inside.

Clean-up still takes the better part of an hour and by the time they’re back at the station, they’re all a bit beat and ready for dinner and a break.

Bobby heads to the kitchen to get dinner started while the others get on sorting out their stuff and refilling inventory. Chim shoves Percy in the general direction of the changing rooms. “You stink like a barn, Jackson, go get a shower.” Percy looks ready to argue but ultimately doesn’t. He did, after all, spend a good part of the past few hours in very close proximity to horses.

They go through their tasks methodically and with the ease of people used to working together. There isn’t much need of talking to get stuff done, so they keep up idle chatter to pass the time.

Neither of them quite notices the girl until she’s standing in between the ladder truck and the ambulance.

She’s a teenager, somewhere around Chris’ age, with strikingly blue eyes and a restless air about her. She’s dressed casually, in jeans and a leather jacket, with a backpack slung over one shoulder and skull earrings poking out from underneath spiky black hair. Something about her feels familiar.

“Hi,” she says, her voice strong and confident. “I’m looking for Percy Jackson. He said this is where he works?”

And this is when it clicks. She has the same unruly black hair as their newest colleague, the same casual way of shifting her weight from one foot to the other constantly that Percy has. When she runs a hand through her hair, the motion is all Annabeth.

This must be the sister.

Shit.

“Hi,” Hen says carefully, kindly, probably having come to the same conclusion. “I’m Hen. Percy’s just taking a shower, he should be out in a minute. You must be his sister, Estelle.” It’s half a question, the way she says it.

The way the newcomer’s nose scrunches at the idea is a whole answer. “What? No, I’m not his sister. I’m his k-”

“Thalia?” Percy cuts her right off as he’s walking though the bay towards them, a myriad of expressions flickering over his face as he takes in their guest. Finally, he settles on pleased surprise. “What brings you by?”

She accepts a hug in greeting, teeth flashing in a smile that feels just this side of dangerous. “Oh, you know. I was in the area.”

Percy smiles down at her. “Do I even want to know?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

Percy rolls his eyes at her antics, changes the topic. “Does Annabeth know you’re in the city?”

Thalia shakes her head. “I swung by your place before coming here, but Mrs. O’Leary was the only one there. I played some fetch with her, but she got bored with me pretty quickly.”

“Wait, you know his dog?” Chimney butts in. “I thought she ignores anyone who isn’t family.” Buck has had to listen to a number of complaints for Jee-Yun on the matter.

Thalia turns to look at Chimney, regards him with an intensity that’s off-putting. “Well, maybe she considers me family,” she says slowly.

The interjection however seems to remind Percy of the fact that they have company. “Thalia, these are my co-workers, Chimney, Hen, Buck and Eddie. Everyone, this is Thalia.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Hen offers with a smile. “Are you staying for dinner?”

Thalia shares a quick glance with Percy.

“Of course, she is,” he replies after a second’s hesitation. “Come, I’ll introduce you to our captain and head chef.”

They head off, up the stairs. Buck, Eddie, Hen and Chimney watch them leave. Side by side, the similar way in which they move is almost eerie.

The silence between them stretches.

“Did he ever mention her to any of you?” Chim finally asks as the duo is gone from sight.

They all shake their heads.

“He would have told us if he had another kid, right?”

Eddie shrugs. “Maybe, but if she doesn’t live with them…” He lets the sentence trail off.

“What do we think how old she is? Fifteen? Sixteen?” Hen asks.

“Somewhere around there, probably,” Buck agrees. “And Percy and Annabeth are in their early thirties, right? I mean, they must have been really young when they had her.”

Eddie has a pinched look on his face at the idea of them having a child so young – or maybe it’s more about having a child so young and letting someone else raise it.

“How sure are we she’s their daughter?” Hen asks, carefully. There is a great potential for error here, and probably a bunch of hurt feelings if they get it wrong.

“The dog seems to consider her family,” Chim offers, a sore spot for everyone who has to spend time in the beast’s company, apparently. “And she basically said it, didn’t she? Said that she’s his kid?”

“I think so,” Eddie agrees.

Hen holds up her hands. “Don’t look at me. Percy cut over her, I didn’t hear it one way or the other.”

Buck isn’t quite sure, either. But what else was she about to say? Karate instructor? Hardly likely. “We could just ask him.”

Hen sighs. “At least try to be subtle about this. Or barring that, at least be sensible.”

They find themselves around the dinner table not long after, Thalia in a chair next to Percy, happily chatting with Bobby about hiking trails in Minnesota. “I went camping with my stepson a few times, but he now has officially declared himself too old for that,” Bobby says and Chimney apparently sees that as his chance to slide into the conversation.

“Harry’s probably not that much older than you are, Thalia. How old are you, by the way?” Percy raises an eyebrow at him at the sudden change of topic.

So, “subtle” is out of the window, stands to see if they manage the “sensible” bit at least.

“I’m gonna turn sixteen tomorrow,” she says with a look at Percy and a grin shared between the two that feels like a joke no one else understands.

Percy is quick enough to clock the stunned silence settling around the table after the announcement. “Don’t make a thing out of this, please.”

“You daughter’s turning sixteen and you don’t want to make a big thing out of it?” Eddie snaps, just this side of too sensitive about the topic. Buck can relate.

Percy freezes. Thalia chokes on the water she’d been drinking.

“My what?” Percy asks.

“His what?” Thalia echoes as soon as her airways are free to do so.

“I’m not even old enough to be her father!” Percy protests loudly and with conviction. Then he pauses, takes an all-too long and considering look at the girl next to him. His eyes go wide. “By the gods. I am old enough to be your father. When did that happen?” His voice, devoid of life at the beginning, takes on a shrill undertone, an urgent note. “Thalia, when did I become old enough to be your father?”

Thalia just looks back at him, just as flagger-basted.

“Technically, you’ve always been, seeing as everyone ages at the same rate, even if it doesn’t feel that way with our kids,” Bobby says kindly.

Thalia bursts out laughing.

She throws her head back and laughs and laughs and laughs until tears are streaming down her face. “Gods, Jackson, you got old,” she cackles.

The stunned, almost horrified expression on Percy’s face shifts then, becomes infinitely softer. “I did, didn’t I?”

Thalia’s laughter tapers off. She must see something there in Percy’s expression, must be able to read the look on his face. “Didn’t think you’d make it this far back when we met, did you?”

“Neither did you.”

“I’m glad we both made it here, Kelp Head,” Thalia says and Buck has the feeling she doesn’t often allow herself this kind of softness.

The softness on Percy’s face however is a well-trodden path. “Me too, Pinecone Face.”

“Wait, how do you know each other?” Chimney asks into the stretching silence. “Because I’m pretty sure you said you’re his kid earlier.”

“I did not,” Thalia shoots back with indignation in her voice. “He’s my cousin.”

And yeah, that makes a lot more sense, overall. Even if Percy is old enough to be her dad.

Dinner is cut short – as it too often is – by the shrill of the alarm.

Percy squeezes Thalia’s shoulder as he jumps up to hurry to the engine. “Annabeth and the kids should be home by now. You know they want to spend time with you. I’ll see you later.”

“Go be a hero,” she tells him.

Percy laughs as he hurries down the steps. “You know that’s not me.”

When they return from putting out a burning garden shed full of barbecue coal, Thalia is gone. She returns the next morning, along with Annabeth and the kids, to pick Percy up from his shift.

“Happy Birthday,” Buck tells the teenager as he comes upon her on his way to his jeep. “How does it feel being sixteen?”

Annabeth frowns, the kids giggle, Percy rolls his eyes. Thalia smiles at him angelically. “Thanks, but I’m still fifteen.”

“But you said yesterday that you are gonna turn sixteen tomorrow.”

Thalia still looks at him with that water-wouldn’t-melt look that looks so out of place on her face. “But it’s not tomorrow. It’s today.”

Buck groans. “So, when’s your birthday, then?”

“Oh, I’ll turn sixteen tomorrow.”

“We’re not doing this bullshit!” Annabeth declares loudly, throwing an arm around Thalia’s shoulder and dragging the teenager out of the station, towards a non-birthday-breakfast.

“She’s an odd one,” Eddie remarks as he walks up to Buck.

“Yeah. Must run in the family.”

Chapter Text

“We could go to the beach tomorrow. Weather is gonna be great and we haven’t been in a while,” Buck suggests as they’re getting changed after shift on Friday.

Eddie runs through his plans for the weekend, but there honestly isn’t too much he had planned in the first place – aside from doing the laundry, fixing the loose shelf in Chris’ bookcase and trying to convince Buck to come over and cook dinner for them.

“Sounds good. You think our favourite surly teenager is going to come willingly or is he too cool to hang out with us yet?”

Chris has been going through a bit of a phase lately, where he prefers being alone in his room and on his phone to spending time with the adults in his life. Rationally, Eddie had always known that this day would come, but it still hurts.

Buck just smiles at him. “Maybe we just have to sweeten the deal. Hey, Hen!” Hen is already halfway out of the station but stops and turns when Buck shouts for her and jogs to catch up. “Do you thing Denny would want to go to the beach tomorrow? We need something to bribe Chris with.”

Hen looks from Buck over to Eddie, who’s walking over to join the conversation, then at Chim, already standing next to them. “We were planning on heading over to Chim and Maddie’s tomorrow. Mara has been missing Jee.”

“You could come, too,” Buck suggests, turning towards his brother-in-law. “Big family outing at the beach – it’s gonna be great.”

Percy materializes out of nowhere. “Did you say you’re going to the beach tomorrow? Can I come? I was planning on taking the kids, anyway. And the twins are already complaining that they haven’t seen Jee-Yun in over a week. Plus, I think Zoe really enjoyed spending time with Mara last time.”

There’s a moment where they all seem to make the maths in their heads, build the family tree of the 118. Where they all trace the net they themselves have woven to cast over their kids so that they’re somehow all interwoven with each other.

How Chris likes to hang out with Denny because they’re friends, but also with Jee-Yun, because Buck sometimes looks after them both at the same time and Jee called him “cousin” that one time. How with Denny comes Mara and Mara loves Jee like her own sister from the few months she lived with the Hans before the entire adoption debacle could be worked out. And now the Jacksons, too, sliding right in there with Jee adoring the twins and Mara making fast friends with Zoe.

“Should we ask Bobby and Athena if they want to join? They could bring Harry,” Buck asks. It’s a natural continuation of where this had been heading – a big family outing with the entire 118.

“Yes,” Hen decides, voice firm. “But we can’t make it the norm that we’re always out together. I think I’d go nuts.”

Buck picks Chris and Eddie up in his jeep the next day and they head to the beach together. They decided to not meet up at Santa Monica proper but a good bit up the beach. Percy had seemed just a tad uncomfortable with the suggestion and Buck had been all too willing to agree to a spot further north.

The tsunami might be years in the past and they made it a point to go there often enough to not have it be this mysterious danger. Still, Eddie knows that Buck sometimes can’t help but look out onto the water from up there and see a wall of water racing to claim him. Eddie can relate. He can’t help looking at the newly erected ferries wheel and not see the one half submerged in water and toppling over.

They’re on the road early enough in the morning that traffic is light and they get there fast.

The Jacksons and the Hans still beat them there, already setting up blankets and parasols when the three of them make their way down the wooden path down the beach. Eddie is grateful that one of them had the forethought to pick a space not too far from the wooden planks, giving Chris the chance to walk there with his crutches without too much trouble.

Instead of doing the polite thing of saying hello to anybody, Chris’ attention immediately zeroes in on the set of boards next to the neatly put out blankets. “You surf?” he asks Percy with excitement in his voice.

Percy smiles softly at him. “And hello to you, too. Yes, I surf.”

“It was the only argument I ever needed to convince Percy to move here with me,” Annabeth winks. “New York just isn’t that good for surfing.”

“You know I would follow you to the edge of the world and beyond,” Percy tells his wife, utterly smitten even after years of marriage. Then, he leans in to Chris to whisper conspiratorially. “But the surfing was a nice bonus.”

What Eddie finds way more interesting than the surfboards, however, is the beast of a dog lying under a parasol on the other side of the surfboards. Eddie had heard a story or three about the Jackson family dog, but somehow, he hadn’t imagined Mrs. O’Leary to be quite as big. Even dozing off on the beach, large head resting on massive paws, there’s something intimidating in the shear size of her.

Buck, of course, notices her, too. He doesn’t share Eddie’s caution – why would he? “Hey there, puppy,” he says, approaching the dog.

Mrs. O’Leary creaks a single eye open, but Annabeth already moves to intercept Buck’s attempt to make a fluffy friend. “Sorry, but she really doesn’t like strangers.”

Buck almost pouts. It’s kind of adorable.

Annabeth lets out a deep breath. “Listen. This dog puts people into two categories: you’re either a potential threat, or you’re nothing. Be glad she considers you the latter. You wouldn’t like her to view you as a threat.”

“Clearly, you’re missing the third category,” Buck postulates, gesturing to Benji currently climbing over the dog to retrieve a ball. Mrs. O’Leary just lets him. “Your family.”

Annabeth follows his gaze. “Believe it or not: she sees him as a potential threat. This is a show of respect, in her own way. If she didn’t consider him capable of harming her, she wouldn’t even allow him that close.” There is no spark in her eyes, nothing that even hints at this being a joke.

When Jee follows Benji to the ball they’d been playing with, Mrs. O’Leary gets up with a huff, and lays back down a few paces further, well out of the way of the playing kids.

Well out of the way of a four-year-old Jee-Yun, who apparently is nothing in her eyes, even though a five-year-old Benji constitutes enough of a threat to let him climb all over the dog.

Eddie doesn’t understand dog people.

The Wilson family arrives not that much later and with Harry in tow – Bobby and Athena had a meeting to get to that couldn’t be rescheduled, but that wouldn’t stop their kid from joining the family fun, as he put it himself.

There are hugs all around in greeting, the kids briefly arguing over the beach toys before splitting up into smaller groups.

Denny and, Chris and Harry are tossing a beach ball between themselves, Zoe very dedicatedly starts working on a sandcastle. Mara sits down next to her to assist.

The twins meanwhile are crowding around Percy, Jee-Yun in tow. “We wanna surf! We wanna surf!” they chant in unison.

Percy’s sigh is overdramatic and obviously fake. “Well, if we have to…”

The twins cheer. Jee-Yun looks a little confused, apparently catching up to the fact that she’s never been surfing before. Percy notices, turns to Maddie and Chim. “Either of you want to come along with Jee? We brought two boards.”

The couple look at each other, somewhat at a loss themselves. Neither of them knows how to surf, either. It’s Buck who jumps in, because why wouldn’t it be? “I can take Jee,” he offers, grabbing his niece and tossing her in the air. “What do you say? Wanna get into the water with your favourite uncle?”

Jee squeals in delight.

The five of them head off, two adults with three children and two surfboards between them.

Eddie watches as they set the boards down in the shallow water, set the kids atop them before heading further in. When the water reaches his hips, Percy gets onto his board, sitting behind the twins who look utterly used to this. Buck copies him, sits behind Jee who looks decidedly less at ease but determined to have fun.

“Didn’t think we’d actually get good surfing waves today,” Karen comments idly as they watch their family float over the first few incoming waves.

Annabeth shrugs, rummaging around in her bag for something. “Percy’s lucky like that.” She emerges with a crocheting needle and bright blue yarn.

Out on the water, Percy hands one of his kids over to Buck to sit on the other board while he paddles out further into the water. When the next wave hits, Percy gets to his feet. The child sitting on the foremost part of the board – Eddie thinks it might be Tessa – throws up her hands in delight, squealing in joy.

Eddie doesn’t know much about surfing, but this looks well practised, Percy shifting his weight around, already accounting for his daughter’s presence. They ride the wave until it breaks at the beach, then paddle back out to Buck, Jee and Benji.

Percy swaps one twin for the other, then repeats the entire thing with Benji.

Buck stays floating in the surf, entertaining the two girls in front of him by splashing them and making faces. When Percy returns with Benji, there’s a bit of conversation before Buck hands Tessa back to her father and paddles out to meet the next wave with Jee-Yun.

The wave hits and Buck gets to his feet, but quickly has to drop down again when a movement from Jee rocks him on his feet. He tries another time without success before returning to Percy and the twins.

“It took Percy a while to have this down, too,” Annabeth comments calmly. “You have no idea how many times the kids just threw themselves off the board because they thought it would be funny, either.”

Maddie looks horrified. “They threw themselves off the board? In the open ocean?”

Annabeth shrugs, unperturbed and apparently more interested in the yarn in her hands. “We made sure they knew how to swim beforehand. And we taught them that Percy wouldn’t take them surfing any more if they’d keep doing it. Got better from there. Darn it, skipped a stitch.”

“What are you doing there?” Karen asks the blonde.

Annabeth, with the crochet needle between her teeth is currently pulling her work apart until she apparently get to the part she messed up and goes back to work. “It’s an oven cloth. I’m honestly not that good at it and mainly do oven cloths or scarfs or something like that. Things where I don’t have to count. But it keeps my hands busy and that’s nice.”

“Looks good to me,” Karen remarks. “Better than anything I could do, for sure. I’ve never learned any fibre arts.”

Annabeth lets out a humourless laugh. “Yeah, well… Thank you. I… My mom’s the literal best at this stuff and every time she sees me fuck up something as basic as a square, she berates me for not doing better. Not that she’d want me to be as good as her, gods forbid, but this is so far below her standards that I think she’d rather I’d not do it at all. But I actually enjoy it, sooo...”

Not all to keen to get in on the disappointing-parents-talk, Eddie shifts his attention elsewhere.

Out on the water, Buck now has the twins on his board while Jee-Yun is with Percy. It doesn’t take long for the next wave to hit. Like before, Percy gets to his feet easily. But where the twins had thrown their hands in the air in delight, Jee clings to the edge of the board with both hands. Her grin is wide enough to split her face in half.

They return to Buck and the twins, pass around the kids, go again.

On the beach, the boys are still playing with the ball, the girls silently building their sandcastle. Annabeth, Maddie and Karen are talking about arts and crafts and parent’s expectations. Chim and Hen are discussing some gossip from the nurses at the hospital.

Eddie drifts off.

He can’t say how long he dosed off for but he startles awake when cold droplets of water drop onto him. He jerks up to see Buck standing over him, wet curls flying as he shakes his head like a dog, showering Eddie in the remnants of seawater. He looks way too pleased with himself.

Eddie grumbles in discontent at being so rudely awoken but can’t really stay mad at Buck when he grins back at him. Instead, he turns his head to look over at Chris who’s sitting with Jee-Yun a bit down the beach, burrowing the girl’s feet in the sand.

Harry and Denny are heading off to swim, Mara and Zoe have gotten further with their sandcastle then Eddie would have expected. The adults haven’t moved, but their topics of conversation might have shifted.

Buck drops down next to Eddie, grabs himself a drink from their cooler, offers one to Eddie, as well.

Percy sets the surfboards off to the side, checks on his dog, then goes to sit with Annabeth. After a few minutes, Zoe abandons her building project and approaches her father to whisper something into his ear. With a quick kiss to Annabeth’s cheek, he gets back to his feet. “Sure, let’s go.” He grabs Zoe’s hand with one, a surfboard with the other hand.

He looks at Mara, alone at her sandcastle and looking between her mothers and the other children here. “Mara, you wanna come with us?”

Mara looks at the incoming waves, then shakes her head. “No, thank you.”

Percy shrugs easily, lets his gaze roam over the beach. “Chris!” he then shouts, just loud enough to catch the boy’s attention further down the beach. “You wanna come surfing?”

For a second, Eddie freezes.

Chris had loved the surfing lessons when he was a kid. But the tsunami had taken a lot from many different people and the surfing school he’d gone to had never reopened, and Chris had turned to other hobbies. He’d never outright mentioned that he’d missed it, so Eddie hadn’t pushed.

He did do some research, but none of the schools that survived the tsunami felt as comfortable with having a student such as Chris. So, Eddie on the one hand is happy for the offer to be extended to his son. But Percy has to know that surfing with Chris is different than surfing with his own children, right?

“He knows.” Suddenly, Annabeth is next to him. “And he’ll be careful. But if it makes you uncomfortable, you can stop this or go with them.”

But by then, Chris has already turned big and hopeful eyes on Eddie, silently asking for permission to do something that should be normal for a boy his age. Eddie puts away the fear of having his son in deep water, smiles at him and nods.

Chris beams and clumsily gets to his feet.

As the three of them make their slow way down to the beach – one surfboard under each of Percy’s arms – Mara takes Chris’ place at Jee’s side, heaping more sand onto the little girl’s legs, making her giggle in delight.

With Buck at his side, Eddie watches as Percy tosses both boards into the water. While Buck had been the only one wearing the lanyard the first time around, Percy now takes the time to put the lanyards onto Chris’ and Zoe’s ankles respectively. Then, he sits behind Chris and paddles out into the surf.

Zoe follows him.

It’s astounding how well the girl manages on the surfboard, how easily she follows her father out to sea. How confident both Annabeth and Percy appear that she’ll manage the whims of the ocean.

This is different from what Percy had done before. He doesn’t change boards, doesn’t let them go one at a time. When a wave hits, Zoe scrambles to her feet, nudging her board in the right direction and takes off.

Percy’s on his feet a moment later, following his daughter. Chris is still at the front of the board, legs hanging on either side of it as Percy steers them. When Zoe looses balance and drops from her board, Percy quickly sits again, lets the rest of the wave pass under him as he paddles against the current.

They do that a few more times, with Percy eventually coaxing Chris first to his knees, then to his feet for a few moments.

And there are few moments where Eddie is as happy as he is now, with Chris having the time of his life, Buck at his side and his family around him.

Denny and Harry, back from swimming, spot their friend in the surf and head over, swimming up to the surfboards. There’s some conversation that ends with Percy, Zoe and Chris tackling one last wave between the three of them before Zoe frees her ankle from the lanyard and drops into the water, waving at her father as she begins swimming towards the shore.

Percy locks eyes with Annabeth. When his wife gives him a thumbs-up, he grabs the now abandoned surfboard and returns to Harry and Denny.

They switch around then and now, taking turns on the boards to surf or just take a breather in the water while watching the others have fun. To Eddie’s relief, though, Chris is never left alone, never made to abandon his surfboard, his smile never wavering.

It doesn’t take long for Zoe to reach the beach, and she comes over to them, sits next to Annabeth and happily cuddles into her mother’s side.

When the rest of them return to shore, Percy grabs the two surfboards while Denny and Harry hover next to Chris until he can retrieve his crutches from where they’d left them close to where the water can’t reach.

With all the excitement, everyone is starving, so they get out the assembled snacks and have themselves a feast. There’s sand everywhere, on the blankets, even on some of the food.

Tessa turns out to be somewhat of a picky eater, refusing to eat anything with as much as a grain of sand on it. Chris on the other hand scarfs down whatever he can reach, muttering something about a growth spurt and about “only being fed take-out at home”. Which, for the record, isn’t true at all; Buck cooks for them at least once a week and usually there’s enough leftovers to last them another day or two.

The Han and Wilson families - Harry included - head off soon after lunch, excusing themselves for prior engagements.

Buck soon finds out that Annabeth is a virtual well of information on anything architecture and starts exchanging opinions on the most important US American monuments. Eddie and Percy sit side by side, watching the kids play in the sand.

“Thank you for taking him surfing earlier,” Eddie says. “He took classes a few years back, but then the school closed and… Let’s just say it’s not always easy to find hobbies or people who accommodate him.”

“Hey, no problem, I’ve got you.” Percy makes a vague gesture over to Zoe. “My daughter doesn’t speak to strangers. I know that’s not the same, but I know a thing or two about trying to fit into groups that aren’t meant to accommodate.”

Eddie almost asks “Aren’t you dyslexic? Don’t you have ADHD? Even without your kid, you must have had that same feeling a thousand times yourself.” but then doesn’t. He gets that it’s different when it’s your kid.

It’s in the way he’d made sure to check in with Chris regularly after the tsunami, how he makes sure to let his son know to talk through any issues, any misgivings, any hard feelings that might come up.

It’s in the way he himself joined a fight club instead of doing any of that.

And maybe Lucy did have the right idea back then, in the beginning at least. Letting go of things had felt good, to not always have to be so careful, to let loose a little. He’d lost himself in it, alright. Gone too far, he can admit that now. But there, in the beginning, it had been fun, and freeing, before it had turned into something that just generated new hurt to mask the old.

“And I get what it’s like to loose a hobby just because you get separated from the environment you’re used to doing it in,” Percy adds, more silently, as if he’d read Eddie’s thoughts.

Eddie makes a questioning hum. Percy digs his feet deeper into the sand in front of him. “Don’t get me wrong, the surfing out here is amazing. But back home, I usually worked out with some of my friends a few times a week. It’s different here. Sometimes, I miss it.”

“I get that,” Eddie agrees. “I did a lot of Martial Arts back when I was in the army. Made a…” he stops over the term, not quite sure how exactly to describe Tommy without dragging up the whole failed-relationship-with-Buck part of it. “I made a friend a while back who I did Muay Thai with for a while.”

“Not any more though?”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, not any more. We lost contact. It’s not that I miss him, rather I miss having him to work out with.”

Percy nods in commiseration. “Right? I miss sparring.”

“You know Muay Thai?” Eddie asks, surprised by the sheer coincidence.

“Well, I usually do more mixed martial arts.” Percy looks at him, long and considering. Then he turns to Annabeth. “Hey, Annabeth? Do I know Muay Thai?”

Annabeth easily pauses her conversation with Buck (whether or not to consider the Statue Of Liberty an American monument or a French one, seeing as it had been a present to the US centuries ago) to turn to her husband. And why does he even have to ask her? Shouldn’t he know?

Annabeth seems to consider the question for a long moment. “Do you remember Preston? Red-Head who hung around the town a lot during my second year at NRU? Always had those weird striped socks and peppermint chewing gum. You sparred a bunch of times.”

Percy frowns. “No, I don’t think that rings a bell.”

“Well, he taught Muay Thai to the campers, if I remember correctly,” Annabeth offers, before returning to her conversation with Buck.

Percy turns to face Eddie once more. “To answer your question: no, I do not know Muay Thai, but I did beat a guy who does a few years back.”

“Annabeth only said you sparred. How would you know if you won?”

“If he had beaten me, I would remember him.” The answer comes easily, confidently, quickly.

“Maybe we should spar sometime,” Eddie suggests. Because he does like sparring, and he does like martial arts. And even though he truly does not miss having Tommy around, he misses having someone to fight against without fear of losing himself in it.

Percy smiles at him, obviously pleased at the suggestion. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

At least, regardless of how the sparring goes, Eddie probably doesn’t have to worry about Buck ending up dating this one.

Chapter Text

“Thanks for dropping me off, mom,” May says as she hugs Athena over the console of her cruiser.

They’d grabbed breakfast before the beginning of Athena’s shift and the first class of May’s. It’s nice to take her daughter out once in a while. Bobby will cook up a storm at a moment’s notice, but making sure her daughter’s fed and doing well has been Athena’s job long before it has been Bobby’s.

So, once in a while, when the two of them have to start a little later while Bobby is already on his 24-hour- shift at the station, the two woman will go out, have breakfast together.

Once upon a time, they’d get their nails done, too, but that had tapered off sometime during May working at dispatch, so now they’re doing breakfast.

May had complained about one of her professors, sang praises about another. She’d talked about the girl who sits next to her and shares snacks during Introduction to Biology and about the person flooring everyone with their presentation in Public Speaking. She’d talked about her room-mate at the dorm and about the people in her study class and a dozen other topics.

She seems happy and that’s all Athena could ever hope for – except for her to show up to family dinner just a tad more often.

Athena in return had talked about her and Bobby’s plans of going to visit her parents soon, about the new ratatouille recipe Bobby had tried a few days earlier and the new Sargent in her precinct who seems alright even though they don’t spend too much time together.

When May had started making noises about having to get to Introduction to Philosophy, Athena had paid, had taken her daughter over to campus. And then she’d dropped her off at a reasonable distance because as much as May loves her mother, she doesn’t want to be seen being driven to class in a police cruiser.

“I love you, kid,” she tells her daughter earnestly and kisses a kiss to her cheek. “Make sure you drop by for dinner sometime. The boys miss you, too.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” May grins, grabbing her bag and getting out of the car. “Love you, too. I’ll text you about dinner.”

Then she’s off.

Athena watches her vanish around the next building, then signals herself as on-duty through the appropriate channels and drives off.

There’s a minor car accident, a major domestic fight and a middle child running of during their sibling’s squabbling. The kid doesn’t run far, only to the next playground and is found within the hour.

Athena returns the kid to the worried parents and then returns herself to her cruiser and onto the streets of her city. She’s considering taking a break when the radio crackles with her call-sign and an address. “727-L-30, please report to the sheet metal factory on Bundy Drive. There’s been an accident on company grounds.”

When Athena arrives at the address provided to her with flashing sirens, she’s not the first one there. The engine and ambulance of the 118 are already parked outside the large warehouse. Athena parks next to them, takes care to makes sure not to box either vehicle in.

Finding the sight of the accident is an easy matter of following the noise inside the building, the familiar voices of her best friend, of her husband, of the people she considers family. But also the muttering of bystanders, and the pained wailing of a man.

When Athena rounds the corner of a heavy duty shelf, she’s honestly surprised the wailing isn’t louder. Then again, screaming might be difficult with steel protruding from one’s abdomen.

Impaled on one of the prongs of a forklift is a man in his fifties.

Hen and Chimney are on either side of him, checking vitals, taking stock of the injuries. Buck is in the offending vehicle, at the controls. Eddie is a few feet further, standing with Bobby, inspecting the vehicle’s design.

“We could just unscrew the entire fork,” Eddie suggests, doubt evident in his voice. “But that will barely fit in the ambulance.”

Bobby, predictably, shakes his head. “No. We’ll have to cut it. Get the saw.”

Eddie nods, turns, spots Athena. “Oh, hi Athena,” he says while hurrying off to follow his captain’s orders.

Bobby turns to her, a flash of softness on a man currently concerned with more pressing matters. Buck raises his hands in greeting. Hen and Chimney only spare curt glances in her direction, focussed on their patient.

“Sargent Grant,” Bobby says.

“Captain Nash.” Athena steps closer to her husband. “What happened here?”

“Well, the forklift driver was distracted when he rounded the corner, and that guy was walking off the proper paths.” He’s speaking lowly, not enough to alert bystanders to their conversation.

“Who was the driver?” Athena asks, just a bit louder.

“The new guy, Klaus,” a young Asian woman offers, pointing towards one side.

There, Athena spots Percy with a man who’s probably in his early twenties. The man would be pale even on a good day, but with the shock he’s evidently in, his face is white as a sheet. Percy has him angled away, facing rows and rows of shelves instead of the mess he’d instigated by day-dreaming on the job.

Athena would have to talk to him, but probably later rather than sooner. With the symptoms of shock he’s clearly presenting, she won’t get anything out of him for quite a while.

Eddie returns with the saw from the engine, looks at the forklift.

“We’re looking at almost two inches of hardened steel here, cap. Sawing through this will cause a lot of vibrations,” Eddie says slowly as he takes in the scene. “Not sure if that’ll be more help than harm.”

Hen looks up sharply. “No. Absolutely not.” She shakes her head, both hands still firmly on her patient. “By some miracle, it hasn’t hit anything vital yet. But if we give this entire thing a good shake, that will probably change.”

For a moment, they’re all silent.

Then, the woman from before speaks up. “We got a heavy-duty laser cutter around the corner, our floors are smooth. Get him over there, we cut this in under a minute.”

Bobby turns to her in consideration. “What’s your name?”

“Yunseo. I work on the machines.”

“And you say you can cut through this fast?”

Yunseo nods. “Minimal vibrations. Laser cutter very fast and very smooth.”

Bobby looks at his team, none of them offer a better alternative or an argument against doing this. “Alright, then.”

Getting the forklift with the impaled man to the laser cutter is a challenge in itself, but with Buck at the controls and the others supporting the victim, they manage. When they get to the machine, however, it presents another problem: it’s not designed to cut outside its bed.

When Athena brings that up, however, Yonseo shrugs easily.

When she dismantles the safety measures so she can swing the cutting tool out of the station, she does it with an ease and a routine that unsettles Athena. One of the other workers comes over, stands at the controls while Yonseo brings the tool into place.

“Don’t look,” she says. “Hurts the eyes.”

Sure, it hurts the eyes, that’s probably why the pictogram on the machine clearly indicates one should wear appropriate safety goggles.

Yonseo doesn’t look away as she tells her coworker to push a button.

It does, just as promised, take just under a minute to cut through the hardened steel.

As soon as he’s free from most of the forklift, Hen and Chimney get their patient onto a stretcher and out of the building. Percy follows soon after with the driver, who is clearly still in shock.

“I’ll be half an hour behind you,” Athena says. Maybe to Percy, maybe to Bobby, maybe to both of them, or to whoever needs to know about it. “Make sure that one doesn’t leave the hospital before I get a chance to talk to him.”

The 118 takes off with flashing sirens.

Athena is left with a dozen or so workers, shocked themselves, but already moving to get back to work. When asked about the whereabouts of their supervisor, they just shrug.

“Not here,” Yonseo finally says. “Probably at betting place or drinking place.”

Athena sends them to the break room – a hovel of a room with just enough chairs now that there’s two less people to seat.

Phoning all the appropriate channels to shut the place down takes a while, but finally, people come to take over for her. She tells them of what happened, of the accident with the forklift, the too-easily manipulated laser cutter, the glaringly obvious lack of protective eyewear or any protective measures, really. The missing supervisor, probably drunk and in debt.

She leaves the warehouse to people better equipped to handle it than her and drives to the hospital. No matter the lack of safety measures, she has someone to talk to who hopefully has by now overcome the worst of his shock and will be able to answer a few questions.

Forklift driver Klaus.

Chapter Text

May likes her life.

That hasn’t always been the case, so now she makes it a point, every so often, to remind herself of it. To think about the good things she has, and staying safely away from the downwards spiral that had once brought so much sorrow to herself and her family.

She likes uni, the courses are interesting and even though she knows her mother is getting impatient about May choosing a major, she feels she still has some time. There are a few she’s leaning towards, others she’s already ruled out. It’s not like she’s ignoring the topic, it’s simply a process that takes time.

The family she is lucky enough to call her own is nothing short of amazing.

May has a mother who loves her with the ferocity of a mother bear. Having Harry back in LA is a grounding feeling away from everything else. Someone she knows is safe, someone she knows will stick to her side. He’s someone she knows will complain about their parents along side her, loving them just as much as she does herself. Between her dad, Bobby, and David, May has three fathers to call her own – something that had lead to more than a few Mamma Mia jokes when she’d regaled the fact to a group of tipsy, not-quite-drunk fellow students during orientation.

She’s never been one to go to all the big parties, to drink herself to oblivion, to be the centre of every party. But she has friends, people she hangs out with regularly.

Most of them are rather new connections, other students she met in class, friends of friends, that girl who works at the library and allows May to take four instead of the allowed three books out at a time.

The only friend from school she’s still in contact with is Zahra. They hadn’t even been very close at school, just shared a few classes. Then they’d gotten to talking during prom, where Zahra had spoken about the gap year she was going to spend in Yemen with her extended family. They’d run into each other more than a year later, just as May was getting ready to leave her job at dispatch and start university.

With Zahra’s parents living only two streets down from the Grant household, it hadn’t been too much of a surprise, really. But it had been nice, the two of them had gotten to talking, taking a stroll in the nearby park.

And somehow, that had become something they did on the regular.

They bonded about taking a gap year that didn’t consist of alcohol and parties, but showed them the darker sides of life, things most people their age didn’t yet have to face – might never have to, if they’re lucky.

Zahra’s still living with her parents while she’s taking online classes. An ailing mother and two smaller sisters mean her presence and the extra pair of helping hands around the house is something she couldn’t take from her family to move out to a dorm.

But, since the family also includes a dog, Zahra is always up for a walk, always down for company. And when Zahra had texted earlier that week, asking if May would be up for a walk, May had happily agreed.

Then, May had texted her mother, inviting herself to dinner at her childhood home so maybe she wouldn’t have to hear her mother complain she should come by more often. And to enjoy Bobby’s cooking, of course.

Zahra’s dog is a white ball of fluff by the name of Yeti who japs happily as he spots May in the driveway to their home. The women hug even as Zahra stops the dog from the eager greeting he wants to bestow on their companion. Going on a walk is well enough, but May knows the kind of allergic reaction she’d be fighting off al day were those hairs to stick to her clothes.

They head to the park, Zahra unusually quiet as they talk about their classes.

“How’s Devon?” May finally asks as they’re circling the park. Zahra and her boyfriend had been fighting a lot lately, about nothing and everything at once.

Zahra spends too much time with her dog. Devon prioritizes school over their relationship. Zahra always cuts dates short to run back to her family. Devon went to a concert instead of Zahra’s cousin’s wedding. Zahra isn’t thinking about the future. Devon is stifling Zahra’s growth. Zahra is watching the wrong movies, Devon is listening to the wrong music.

May had heard it all over the past few months, had listened to Zahra gripe about her relationship but always came back to the same conclusion of “It’s just a phase, it’ll get better. We love each other.”

May knows what everyone else in Zahra’s life has been saying about the relationship pretty much from the beginning. That first loves are rarely the last, that these two in particular are too different to be right for each other in the long run.

Zahra had heard all that from more than enough people in her life, she didn’t need to hear it from May. So, she never said it. She’d been friendly with Devon when Zahra had introduced them, had made small-talk and afterwards decided that she wouldn’t mourn his lack of company once the relationship found its inevitable end. She’d told Zahra that he’s likeable and that she understood what Zahra finds in him and had even been telling the truth.

Now, when May asks about him, Zahra’s shoulders go up for a second before she very deliberately lowers them again. “I wouldn’t know. We broke up two weeks ago.”

They’ve arrived at a big meadow where dogs are allowed to run free. Zahra takes Yeti off the leash, pulls a ball out of her purse and throws it. Yeti dashes off behind it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” May asks.

Zahra scoffs. “What? So you can tell me you told me so? Like everybody else did?” Then she looks at May, considers her own words. “No, that’s not fair. You never did actually say anything against him.”

May bumps their shoulders together. “Figured you’d make your own choice one way or the other.” Plus, the relationship never actually appeared harmful, just… not a good fit.

Yeti brings back the ball, Zahra throws it again. “I did, yeah.” She takes a deep breath. “Feels weird, being single again. I never really allowed myself to look at other men while I was with him, you know?”

May doesn’t, not really. Has never quite had that feeling everyone always seemed to describe in High School. The one with the tinkling in the gut or whatever. The one where people suddenly started getting jealous about friendships between girls and boys when their significant other was involved.

That’s not a conversation for right now, though, she figures.

“So, you want to ogle some men while we’re at the park?” May asks, already scanning the area. There’s a few boys around Harry’s age kicking a ball around, a geriatric group with walking sticks doing stretches. A man with coarse brown hair tries to wrangle three dogs who want to run into five different directions. At the other side of the meadow, a man is running laps, two kindergarteners on bikes before him, a large black dog trailing behind.

“That one’s handsome,” Zahra remarks predictably, pointing towards the jogger.

As Zahra throws Yeti’s ball once again, May finds herself looking, too. He has a nice smile, she figures, laugh lines around the eyes. The kids beam up at him in adoration. Twins, by the looks of them, identical even from clear across the field. He’s lean and tall and fit. The floppy hair reminds her of Eddie, the wide gestures of Buck.

“I guess so,” May agrees easily. She might not look at men – look at people – with the same intention others seem to, but she can still acknowledge beauty.

Zahra practically lights up at May’s approval. “You should talk to him!”

May lets out a sigh. “Why would I do that?”

“Because, he’s handsome. And you haven’t been with anyone since Darius and you ended things.” Which, yeah, both is true.

But May had needed time and space to figure some things out and Darius had been neck-deep in preparation for med school and things had ended rather amicably. And sure, on some evenings, May misses the company. But the actual relationship? She’s good without a romantic connection, as she came to realize.

“He’s got two kids,” May argues. “He’s probably got a partner at home. Plus, he’s older than we are.”

Zahra only nudges her again. “Yeah, but not that much older.”

Which is, also, true. He looks to be around thirty, which puts him right in the age range that would get her a pointedly raised eyebrow form both her mother and Bobby, but not outright hostility from either.

Yeti has apparently decided that he needs a break, lying down in the middle of the field, ball dropping between his paws. The boys previously playing ball are heading home, breaking off into smaller groups as they disperse. The guy with the three dogs has lost his fight for dominance and is now stuck next to the empty playground where the dogs try to get into a trash can. The geriatric group is still doing their stretches.

“What would I even say to him?” May asks. Not because she really wants an answer, not because she actually plans on striking up a conversation. But Zahra can use the distraction and May is happy enough to oblige.

The guy and his retinue of small kids and a big dog take a turn left onto the path that lopes around the meadow Yeti is lying on and will eventually lead him straight past the bench the two women are seated on. So, they’ve got some time for this entirely pointless brainstorm.

“You must be a dog person, because you look fetching,” Zahra suggests with a giggle. May rolls her eyes. Zahra has a silly streak to her that she allows herself to show far too rarely.

Probably challenged by May’s lack of reaction, Zahra goes on. “I didn’t even have to run to catch these butterflies.”

The corner of May’s mouth twitches. One of the boys from the ball game is headed their way, probably towards the western exit of the park. He’s idly tossing a ball in the air before catching it again.

“I don’t usually chase people. But for you, I’d put my crocs in sports mode.”

May barely manages to make her snort sound something akin to derisive. “Please. Like I even own crocks.”

“Is your name Waldo? Because someone like you is hard to find.”

May breaks. “I don’t know if I could date someone called Waldo,” she presses out between laughs.

The laughter dies in her throat when the guy with the ball suddenly grabs the bag Zahra had set down next to the bench and takes off in a sprint.

“Hey!” May yells. “Give that back!”

Zahra’s keys are in there, her phone, emergency medication for everyone in her family.

May is on her feet in a second, running after the thief.

Probably-not-Waldo stops at the other side of the track, sees the two racing towards him. May doesn’t care, not really, not in any way she’d just been joking about with Zahra. She does care, a little, in regards to the fact that the guy holding Zahra’s bag is running straight towards another person who might be able to stop him.

The kid (he’s just Harry’s age, practically a baby, and still getting into things like this) seems to realize that as well. He’s a good twenty yards from Not-Waldo when he takes a sharp left, onto the open field.

May is already panting hard, not used to this kind of exercise.

“He’s got your bag?” Not-Waldo asks.

May nods, waves her hand towards where Zahra’s sitting. “My friend’s.”

The man turns towards his children. “You two, stay with the lady.” He turns to the dog. “Mrs O’Leary, guard.” With a snap, he points towards his children. The dog immediately bristles, gets itself between May and the children.

Not-Waldo meanwhile takes off in a sprint, long legs and proper training letting him reduce the distance to his prey before they both vanish behind some shrubbery.

May turns towards the kids and the dog.

What an odd man, to sprint behind a stranger’s purse and leave his very underage children alone in a park with a stranger.

The kids meet her gaze, feet kicking idly in the grass next to their bikes.

“What’s your name?” The one on the green bike asks. There’s truly no way to tell them apart, with the identical black curly hair, the mischievous looks on their faces, the torn jeans and red shirts.

“I’m May.”

The one on the orange bike giggles. “Our kindergarten teacher is called April.”

And if there had been any doubt about just how young those kids are, there’s none now.

May takes a step forwards, wants to crouch down to talk to the kids, but the dog shifts, bares its fangs. May immediately takes two steps back. May usually isn’t even afraid of dogs. But there’s something threatening about this dog, something primal.

“Dad told her to protect us,” Orange says, utterly unconcerned. “She won’t let you come any closer than you are.”

“But she won’t hurt you,” Green offers. “I don’t think she even could.”

May is pretty sure it could hurt her, if it wanted to. She’s getting a pretty good look at the teeth on that beast.

But as soon as May has stepped back, the dog had calmed down once again, settled at the feet of the children it was tasked to protect.

Zahra meanwhile has called Yeti from the meadow and is coming over, carefully watching the other dog’s reaction to another canine. But the large black beast in charge of two adorable children barely reacts.

“What happened?” Zahra asks as she is close enough to start a conversation, still far enough to keep the dogs out of each other’s orbit.

“Was that your bag?” Green asks.

“Dad is getting it back,” Orange adds immediately.

Zahra drops her voice, just loud enough for May to hear. “Are your parents thieves? Because I think you stole my heart.”

“Stop it,” May hisses, but there is no hiding the grin fighting its way back onto her face at her friend’s antics.

It doesn’t take long for Not-Waldo to return to them, Zahra’s bag in hand. He easily jogs over the meadow towards them - all four of them, plus two dogs watching as he draws near.

“I think this is yours,” he says as he hands the bag over to Zahra, who takes it with an awestruck look on her face.

“Thank you.”

His smile comes easily. “You’re welcome.” He turns over to his kids, pats the dog’s head. “You kids alright? At ease.”

Under his touch and his words, the tension vanishes from the dog, the threatening air dissipating as it’s relieved from its duty. The kids nod easily at the question, barely interested in soothing their father’s gentle concern.

“That’s May,” Orange informs their father, pointing at May.

Green turns towards Zahra. “Are you June? Because we already know an April.”

Zahra has spent enough time around small kids that she takes the question in stride. “No, my name is Zahra.”

“I’m Percy,” Not-Waldo introduces himself. “Are the two of you alright?”

The question is addressed at May and Zahra, who had just been robbed. But, in all fairness, May has known far more stressful situations. And Zahra has never been easily shaken.

The deep sigh Zahra lets out is only half an act, though. “Bit shaken up,” she admits.

“You want me to walk you home?” The offer comes easily and without pressure.

May is about to decline – neither of them lives very far from the park, it’s the middle of the day, her mother will be furious if she learns what happened here today even without a stranger showing up at her doorstep – but Zahra beats her to an answer.

“Would you? That would be so nice.” The wide eyes are all show.

They set off back the way they’d come, three adults, two children and two dogs.

The kids speed ahead, waiting for the rest of them to catch up whenever their father calls for them to do so. Yeti keeps close to Zahra’s side, as far away from the other dog as possible.

Zahra tries to rope Percy into a conversation, and Percy makes it easy on her. He gamely answers questions about the weather (maybe not as hot as LA can get, but still far warmer than he’s used to), his dog (got her from a friend. Don’t ask about the breed, he couldn’t tell you), and his kids (Tessa and Benji, although he makes no indication regarding which is which).

In turn, he asks about Yeti, laughs about the name, asks about the band on Zahra’s shirt.

They reach Zahra’s house before she can say something truly ridiculous like invite Percy for a concert and they say their goodbyes. Before she heads inside, Zahra decides to make life hard on May, though.

“You’ll get her home safe, too, right?”

Percy nods gamely. “Sure.”

The door closes. Percy turns to May. “I will happily walk you to your house, if that’s what you want. But if you’d rather I leave you alone, I’ll head off.”

May smiles at him. She likes him, likes the easy way he has about him, the way he doesn’t press, doesn’t assume anything. “I think Zahra would hate me if I’d send you away. And I’m pretty sure she’s watching to make sure we leave together.” Plus, her mother’s a Sargent. It’s not like giving him the address to her home holds much risk of getting stalked or something.

Not-Waldo’s smile doesn’t waver. He easily falls into step next to May, shouts for his kids to wait at the upcoming street corner.

“That’s a lot of trust you put in them, letting him drive next to the road,” May says.

“Yeah, but they’re good for it. Need to trust them at some point, right?” His eyes never leave the kids up ahead, even as they stop at the intersection and wait patiently for the adults to catch up. The dog stands with them, a silent protector. “Plus, the streets here are much calmer than where we lived before.”

“You’re new in the neighbourhood?”

He nods. “Moved here not even half a year ago. Yourself?”

“I grew up here,” May tells him. “Moved into the dorms for college.” They catch up to the kids, turn the corner instead of passing the street.

“So, we’re headed for you parents’ house, I assume?” The question is simple, just easy curiosity.

“Yeah. They live just at the other end of the road.”

Percy frowns, turns to take a longer look at the street sign they just passed. “Wait, what did you say your name was?”

Something prickles at May’s neck. The sudden attention doesn’t sit too well with her.

Before she can make a decision on whether to answer or not, the frown clears off his face. “May, of course. You’re Sargent Grant’s daughter.”

May stops in the middle of the side walk. Random people knowing her mother isn’t always a good thing. Sure, her mother is always up in everyone’s business, she knows a lot of people. But as comes with the job, she also knows a lot of criminals, and a lot of criminals know her.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest decision to let a stranger tag along to her parents’ house, handsome as he might be.

Not-Waldo seems to oblivious to her sudden anxiety, as he holds a hand out to her. “I’m Percy Jackson.” The name doesn’t ring any bell and slowly, Not-Waldo seems to realize that the mood has changed. He takes a small step back, holds his hands off to the sides.

It’s a small gesture, one that’s backing off, that’s distance, and intentionally non-threatening. But it’s small enough that the kids, stopped further up the side walk and animatedly talking to each other, don’t notice anything off.

“I’m a firefighter at the 118 under Bobby,” Percy says calmly, easily narrating himself into a position where his knowledge of May’s family makes sense.

As if on cue, the kids come barrelling back up the street.

“Dad! Dad! This is where Bobby lives!”

“Can we go and ask if he has some of that lemon cake he had last time?”

“Do you think Jee is here? We should see if she wants to play!”

“I wanna play with Jee, too!”

With every exited statement, the kids seem to take a bit more of the weight off May’s shoulders. Because this excitement, that’s real. And her mother did bring her some of the left-overs from the last 118-barbecue, including Bobby’s delicious lemon cake.

“Jee doesn’t live here, she lives with Maddie and Chim, you know that,” Percy tells his kids.

“But she was here last time we visited. Maybe she is here today, also.”

Sound reasoning, in the mind of a kindergartener.

But it clicks, then, for May.

“Oh, you’re the new guy,” she says. “Harry said you taught him surfing.”

Percy shrugs easily. “Well, as much as one can teach another about surfing in about half an hour.”

He’s playing down that day at the beach, if May believes what her brother had told her over pizza one evening. “For the first time, I didn’t feel like the ocean was fighting me,” Harry had said, some weird airiness to his voice. “And he’d been good with the rest of them, too.”

With May out of the mix at most station gatherings, Harry is now the oldest of the kids. He’s always been the baby at home, and takes the newfound responsibility of being the oldest seriously.

The rest of them, which means Denny with his analytical care, Chris with his endless questions and impeded mobility, Mara with her sporadic distrust of strangers, Jee-Yun with her never-ceasing energy.

Bobby had only good things to say about his new transfer, too. He hadn’t talked much about the newest addition to his team, but it hadn’t been in disregard, or in any kind of front. From the first day Bobby mentioned someone new in his crew, it was with the energy of something that didn’t need to be talked about because there was no problem to solve.

The guy just fit.

May can see it.

Can see it in the way he’d sprinted after a mugger without hesitation, in the way he’d offered to walk Zahra and May home. She sees it in the way he is with his kids.

Bobby picked a good one, it seems.

It’s Athena, though, not Bobby, who opens the door before they’re even halfway up the driveway. She leans there, in the doorway, looking pensively from May to Percy and back. Then, the twins slam into her, open with their affections as only children can be.

“’Thena! Is Jee here?”

“We were at the park with dad!”

“We met May!”

“Why isn’t Harry called August?”

Athena laughs at the flood of words coming her way, hugging the twins before straightening up and hugging her own daughter. “Hello, darling. How nice of you to come by for dinner.” Her gaze wanders over to Percy. “I wasn’t aware you two know each other.” There’s an undertone in her mother’s voice May is all too familiar with. It’s awfully leading.

May shakes her head. “We didn’t. Some guy stole Zahra’s bag in the park, Percy chased him down and got it back.”

Immediately, Athena goes from curious mom to concerned cop. “Where is he now? Did you call the police?”

May didn’t, actually. First, she’d been too shocked by the whole thing, then Zahra had kept her thoughts occupied with half-hearted attempts of trying to set May up with the hot guy they met.

The hot, married guy with kids who works for her dad. Yeah… No, thanks.

Athena is already turning towards Percy. “You can still give a description to the police. Maybe they’ll be able to identify him.”

Percy shrugs, easily and almost apologetic. “No can do. I don’t remember what he looks like.” He doesn’t even try to be convincing. More earnestly, he adds, “He won’t do it again.”

Athena bristles at that. “You can’t know that. And nobody is above the law.”

Percy sighs. “He’s a kid, who did a stupid thing. We talked about it, he won’t do it again. He deserves a second chance. Gods know I got more than a fair share of those when I was that age.”

“That isn’t for you to decide. We’ve got courts for that.”

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, I ran into a guy while jogging who handed me a purse which I did return to the rightful owner. I didn’t see no crime.” It’s impressive, really, the calm way with which Percy meets Athena’s stare.

“Dad! Can we go home? I’m hungry.”

Percy drops a hand onto his kid’s head. “Sure, Tessa.” He turns to May with a smile. “It was nice meeting you. We should do it under different circumstances next time.” On to her mother. “You don’t have to like it, Sargent, but I won’t press charges against a kid who did me no foul.”

“There’s a reason we’re doing the whole separation of powers thing, you know,” Athena starts a last attempt to sway him into making a statement. “Once everyone decides they don’t need to play by the rules, we’ll have our hands full of dictators who consider themselves gods.”

It’s hyperbolical, at best, insulting at worst, but May knows what her mother is getting at. Percy’s mouth meanwhile twitches into a grin that’s far too amused.

“And we wouldn’t want that,” he says evenly. “Come on, kids, let’s go home before I develop delusions of grandeur and think myself capable of competing with gods.”

The children’s laughter echoes down the driveway as Percy jogs away.

The monstrous dog follows docilely.

Chapter Text

The sound of rumbling engines is replaced by chattering voices and slamming doors. Almost at the half-way point of their 24-hour-shift, the A shift of the 118 goes about their tasks quickly and effectively. Hen and Chimney restock what little they used from the ambulance on the multi-car pileup they were at, Eddie and Percy check that all the tools are stowed properly and ready for the next call.

Bobby knows he doesn’t have to check their work, knows they’ll do what needs doing before crowding the loft with rumbling stomachs. Buck follows him up the stairs, ready to help in the kitchen, to get their family fed before the next disaster strikes.

“And I get it, nature is wondrous and manifold, but what even is that thing?” Buck says as they’re ascending the stairs, shoving his phone in Bobby’s face.

Bobby looks at the blurry picture, an insect in a corner of Buck’s kitchen. Looks a bit like a food moth, poor Buck is going to have some serious work ahead of him getting rid of them. His feet carry him towards the kitchen without much thought, only Buck’s voice cutting through his focus as he tries to make out details in the grainy picture.

“Is that a dog?”

Bobby shakes his head. “Pretty sure that’s a food moth.”

“What? No, not that,” Buck says, standing half-way between the kitchen and the couches. “That.” He points, over to the couches.

And he’s right, there’s a dog on one of their couches. Stretched out on its side on the couch Percy and Buck had been debating seafarer customs earlier that day lies a dozing Dalmatian. He blinks one eye open upon hearing voices nearby, tail wagging twice before coming to rest once again.

Buck walks over, approaches the dog carefully. Bobby follows a bit behind, curious but not as tempted to hug every fluffy creature he sees as Buck is.

“Hi there,” Buck says softly, one hand outstretched for the dog to sniff at as he draws near. “What are you doing here, hm?”

Buck knows as well as Bobby does that Omar, who’d been man behind today, would have mentioned him taking in a dog during their absence. The dog opens his eyes, lifts his head. He seems comfortable, relaxed, interested. He gamely sniffs at Buck’s hand, wags his tail again.

“He doesn’t have a collar,” Bobby notes.

Buck nods, carefully pats the dog’s neck. With a very deliberate motion, the dog dislodges Buck’s hand, but shows no sign of aggression in doing so. “No, but he’s too well-behaved and too well-kept to be a stray.”

It’s true. Even for a Dalmatian, the dog is tall. And he doesn’t look like he has to suffer from hunger, either.

The three of them look at each other, caught in a limbo of indecisiveness.

“Why is there a Dalmatian on our couch?” Hen asks as she ascends the stairs with the rest of the team.

The dog is utterly indifferent as she approaches, doesn’t seem to take much notice of Chimney and Eddie, either. Instead, the canine immediately zeroes in on Percy.

He leaps up from the couch, over the backrest and trots over to their newest member. Percy looks confused, caught off guard, and almost a bit defensive. The dog slows its trot, tail wagging calmly.

“Where did he come from?” Percy asks the room at large.

Omar shakes his head, as confused as any of them. “There shouldn’t be a way for him to have snuck past me. I was in the engine bay the past half hour and up here before that.”

Percy looks contemplative, the dog calmly waiting a few feet away from him. He’s fiddling with a pen, flicking it in his fingers as he thinks. Finally, he speaks. “Frank?”

The dog barks, the tail wagging happily.

Percy’s frown melts into softness as he crouches down. The dog immediately goes to him, allows Percy to engulf him in a hug. “What are you doing here, buddy? Are you alright?”

Against all odds, looking almost as if the dog understands the question, he lifts and lowers his head, a good approximation of a nod.

“Is Hazel alright?” Another nod. “Does she know you’re here?” At that, the dog pulls away from Percy, head hanging low, ears pressed flat. Percy lets him go, but one hand remains on his shoulder, gently petting. The dog lets him.

“Care to explain, Percy?” Bobby asks, gently, but with a touch of authority swinging in the words.

Percy’s gaze flicks up, away from the dog and towards his coworkers. “That’s Frank. He’s my friend…” He trails off for a second, then seems to catch himself. “...my friend Hazel’s dog. I should let her know he’s here.”

Frank whines lowly. Percy pats his head. “You knew this when you came here, buddy. I’ll just tell her you’re safe and sound. I won’t make you go back, and I won’t ask her to come and pick you up. But you knew when you came here that I’d tell her you’re with me and you’re safe.”

With a huge breath, the dog pads over to the next sofa and collapses against its back.

Percy turns to Bobby. “Would it be alright if he’s around the rest of shift? I promise he won’t cause any trouble, you have never met a smarter dog in your life. He can do all the tricks.”

Bobby doesn’t have to look around to know his team’s reactions. He knows the hopeful look on Buck’s face, the unmitigated fondness on Eddie’s that’s for his best friend rather than the dog in their midst. He knows the indulgent smile on Hen’s face, the delight on Chimney’s.

“Alright. But only if he doesn’t cause trouble and only until the end of this shift.”

Percy beams at him. “Thank, Cap.” A second later, he’s skipping down the stairs, phone already pressed to his ear. “Hazel? Guess who showed up on the couch at work.”

True to Percy’s word, the dog is the picture of good behaviour. He sits docile next to Percy on the couch while they wait for dinner and doesn’t even beg at the table (much). Percy gives him the left-overs once they’re done and Frank eats them as if it’s beneath him.

When the alarm calls them out to a medical emergency, Percy pats his side with a quick “we’ll be back soon, just be here when we come back”, and he is. They find him lying on the same sofa as before, tail wagging as soon as he spots Percy coming up the stairs.

When it’s time to try and take a nap, Percy stays up in the loft.

He didn’t seem to have trouble sleeping since Buck took a chainsaw to their beds, so his reluctance is a surprise. But he just shrugs and pats Frank’s head when asked about it.

“Don’t want him to be alone out here and taking him into the bunk room feels weird. Plus, we’d hardly fit into the same bed.”

Having him sleep on the floor next to the bed doesn’t seem to cross Percy’s mind. Bobby doesn’t argue it, though. And for a change, neither do the others.

While the team settles down for some rest, Bobby heads to his office, wanting to get some paperwork done while he’s unlikely to be interrupted. A good two hours later, as he crosses the station on the way to his own bed, Bobby hears a voice from the loft he doesn’t know.

“It’s just hard, you know? It feels like there’s the same problems we keep running into again and again.” The voice is male, sounding defeated.

The conversation sounds like a private phone-call, the suspicion only confirmed when Percy speaks up. “I get that. At least I think I do. It’s never been like that with Annabeth and I. Our interests never seemed like they were one or the other. Our goals never overlapped in a way that would force us into a choice. No dichotomies to solve, you know?”

An agreeable hum. “I don’t think I’d even mind as much if she’d just talk to me, you know? It’s like half the time, we can read each other’s minds. I’ve never met someone who I work with so seamlessly. I mean, we did run the legion for almost half a decade.” A long sigh that carries surprisingly well over Percy’s phone speaker. “But that’s just it, I think. We work together perfectly, but living together? That’s another pair of shoes.”

“That part I get,” Percy says.

The answer is a disbelieving scoff, that travels too well over Percy’s phone once again. That thing must have pretty good speakers.

“No, really. When Annabeth and I first moved in together for uni, it was pure chaos, at first. We were so used to either be on an external schedule or weighted down with the fate of the world that we struggled a lot with being free from responsibilities. For the first few weeks, we oscillated from doing nothing at all to doing everything at once. And we utterly drove each other up the wall.”

“Percy, we hung out during that time. You guys seemed fine.”

“We did, didn’t we? But hanging out with you and the others was the last remnants of a routine, which was what we needed back then. But when we didn’t have previously agreed-upon stuff in our calendars? Annabeth wanted to do one thing, me another, and we’d get frustrated when the other wouldn’t immediately agree.”

“I feel like you’re trying to make a point here.”

“The point I’m trying to make,” Percy says pointedly, “is that you can’t get mad at something Hazel’s doing if you’ve never talked about what either one of you expects of a settled life. You’ve been travelling the world for almost a decade. Settling in now is bound to bring some difficulties.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“You know me. 98% of my relationship advice boils down to communicate or break up.”

The stranger on the other end of the phone laughs. It’s a small thing, but genuine. “What’s the other two percent?”

“Your wife is right, the purple does look better on you than the green and you’ve been thinking about proposing to that guy for two years, just do it.”

“The first one is Piper, but who’s the second?”

“Nico. He was drunk.”

“That makes sense.”

“Hm.”

“Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For… you know… everything. Being here, being you.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be, no one else I know how to be.”

“I’ll talk to Hazel tomorrow.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear.”

Bobby hurries along. He probably heard more than he should have, anyway. It was a private conversation, he had no right listening in. As he gets under the covers, Bobby wonders if the Hazel whose partner call ed Percy in the middle of the night with relationship troubles is the same Hazel whose dog ran away and joined their station for a night.

If so, she must be having quite the night.

The alarm wakes Bobby earlier than it’s supposed to, seeing as they’re off rotation for a few hours to get some sleep. It’s not unusual, though, calling stations that are on downtime when things get sticky.

In the engine bay, Bobby is met with the sound of hurried boots on the ground, with the sight of bleary eyes and unkempt hair, the feeling of routine and familiarity as they all pile into the vehicles and tear out of the station.

The dispatcher in his ear appraises him of the current situation in short but succinct sentences.

There’s been an accident over an hour ago on the 110 with an oil spill that’s tying up most of LAFD’s resources. Five minutes ago, a poorly-built tree-house collapsed, trapping three children on a sleepover inside.

Bobby turns to relay the information, but a glance around the passenger cabin of the 118’s engine has him pulling short. Besides the two paramedics and three firefighters, there’s a Dalmatian on the rear seats.

Percy catches Bobby’s look and winces. “Sorry, Cap. Force of habit for him to follow and for me to take him along, I guess. He won’t be in the way, I promise.”

He hadn’t been so far, and there’s no time to turn back and return the animal. “I’m holding you to that,” he agrees without so many words and tells his crew what they need to know.

When they arrive, the parents are beside themselves with worry. The neighbourhood was built on a cliff-side, the gardens sloping merrily.

The tree-house had fallen out of the tree, then slid a good fifty feet until coming to a stop against another tree, dangerously close to the garden fence and the cliff-side just behind it.

What had once been a tree-house now looks more like a heap of wood, odd planks sticking out, a curtain flapping listlessly in the wind. Without needing to be told much about it, Buck, Eddie and Percy set to securing what’s left of the tree-house to the braced ladder truck.

As soon as they give their clear, Hen and Chimney are there, helping first one, then the next girl outside. They’re twelve, a sobbing mother tells Bobby, and he tries to soothe her worries before joining his crew in their efforts.

The first two girls exit the tree-house easily enough, with nothing more than a few scraps and bruises, a sprained wrist and a gash on the forehead that can be dealt with with butterfly bandages between them.

The third girl refuses to get up.

She’s huddled into the very back of the structure, clutching a stuffed animal in her arms and refusing any communication.

“I think she hurt her foot when we fell,” one of the other girls says.

If the remnants of the tree-house were more stable, one of them could easily climb inside and get her. But with the way it’s listing, with how it had groaned and protested even when extracting two small girls, there’s too much evidence pointing towards this not being stable for much longer. Most of all, if either of them is going to get in there, they risk the damaged wood collapsing on top of little Nessa.

“I’d try climbing inside,” Buck says slowly. “But I doubt I’d even fit through the opening we got the other two out of. Plus, I’m worried about structural integrity.”

Nods around the group. Then Chimney speaks up. “I’m not even sure I could fit through there. And I’m half as wide as you.”

It’s an exaggeration, obviously, but true nonetheless. None of them will fit the narrow opening to get to the kid and the kid won’t come to them. So, demolition it is.

Just as Bobby is about to tell Eddie and Percy to get the gear, Nessa speaks up, causing all their heads to whip around to peer through the opening.

“Oh, hi there, puppy.” Her voice is tiny, shaky, hoarse. Her eyes are shiny with tears and her lower lip trembling as she carefully reaches out to pet the dog that has inexplicably made his way to her side.

Frank allows the gentle pets down his flank for a moment, nuzzles his face against hers. Then, his motions become increasingly more insistent, nudging her in the side, against her shoulders, under her arm.

They all watch in baffled silence as Nessa gets one arm over the spotted back and shakingly gets to her feet. She doesn’t put pressure onto the left foot, leaning onto the dog at her side with every second hobbling step.

“You’re doing good, Nessa,” Hen says, easily putting aside her bafflement to return her focus on her job. “Just a few more steps, then we can pull you out. Just like that. You’re doing great.”

Girl and dog arrive at the opening that was once a window just as the back of the tree-house lets out an ominous groan. It won’t slip, it won’t slide, it won’t fall any further down the hillside. But it’s still in very present danger of collapsing.

Hen holds out her hands and Nessa grabs them haltingly. She sniffles as she’s pulled off her feet and screams in anguish as the wood collapses just as she’s pulled from the rubble.

“Puppy!” she jells.

Hen holds her fast, makes sure she doesn’t try and get back in.

Buck leaps forwards, concerned for all life, and with a weakness for dogs. Before he in turn can do anything to rock the structure even more, Percy puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder.

Then, he lets out a piercing whistle. “Frank!”

For an agonizing second or five, nothing happens.

Then, covered in dirt and saw dust, a Dalmatian that’s more grey than white rounds the back of what was once a tree-house. Nessa’s agonized screaming turns into relieved sobs, and even Bobby lets out a breath of relief.

Percy crouches down, holds his hands out to Frank. “Let me take a look at you.”

To the group’s general relief, Frank seems to be alright. Percy even feeds him some of the snacks he carries around in a little pouch and resolutely refuses to share with any of them, ever.

They get the girls to a hospital to get checked out and then get themselves back to the station. The night has proceeded into early morning, so instead of getting back into their bunks, they reconvene in the kitchen where Bobby gets breakfast started.

When he feeds Frank a slice of bacon, Buck gapes at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. You know I take care of my crew.”

The wagging tail only picks up speed.

Of Pets and Plans and PowerPoints

                          By Sally Blofis

People sometimes ask “are you a cat person or a dog person?” Which, one, implies a false dichotomy. And two, I neither know nor care.

Because I’ve never had pets.

Growing up, my family wasn’t in a financial situation to feed more mouths than we already had. Then, my first husband barely tolerated kids, adding a pet to the household would have spelled disaster. And even now, happily married to the man of my dreams and financially stable, I simply have no desire to get a furball that has me vacuuming the floors every other day.

I never felt like I missed something. And I didn’t think my kids thought any differently.

But when he was twelve, Blue went to summer camp for the first time. He returned with a picture of the girl who’d one day become his wife and a best friend who’s half-goat by his own admission. (Don’t ask what he means by that. I’ve seen him try and eat a metal can to prove it.)

When he returned from the same camp one year later, he declared that he made a connection with one of the horses at camp. So, apparently my son is the protagonist in one of those horse-girl movies.

Except, maybe he isn’t. Because when he returned from camp yet another year later, he told me he now has a dog who gets to stay at camp year-round. Maybe my son isn’t the protagonist in a horse-girl-movie.

He’s a straight-up Disney princess.

And now, at sixteen, Sage starts making noises that she wants a pet. It doesn’t even have to be a big one. How generous of her, seeing as we live in a three-bedroom apartment in Manhattan.

(And when I say “she starts making noises about it”, I mean that she fully made a power-point presentation about it which she presented to myself and my husband separately, so we “couldn’t gang up on her”.)

And now I don’t know if Blue really is a Disney princess, or if he’s a knight in shining armour or if he’s an evil fairy.

Because he suggested a trial run. He offered that when Sage comes to visit him, he’d talk to her about what it means to have a pet.

And I love my son to pieces, but I have no idea where the outcome of that conversation will land. There is a shred of hope whispering to me that he might get her to lay the idea to rest, seeing as she’ll graduate High School in two years.

But unfortunately, I can’t rule out the possibility that Sage will return with a pet and a twenty-page plan on how to care for it courtesy of my daughter in law.

If it’s one or the other, or something in between, I know that life with either of my kids will never, ever be boring.

Chapter Text

Harry sighs, eyes his phone lying next to his textbook. Not for the first time, he considers calling his father to get some help. His dad’s an engineer, he’s good at Maths, he knows how this stuff works.

But unfortunately, as Harry had to learn time and time again, Michael Grant might be good at Maths, but he isn’t that good at explaining, at teaching. He tends to go on tangents, tends to explain things Harry has known for years or things that wouldn’t be relevant until far into an engineering degree at college.

Harry just wants to get his algebra homework done so he can meet up with Chris and Denny for the afternoon.

He might have tried asking his mother or Bobby for help. But his mother has headed to shift only a few hours ago and Bobby is still at work, having texted earlier to tell him that he’ll run late due to a bridge collapse down-town.

He’s considering calling the Wilsons and asking Karen for help. But today’s a Thursday, so Karen is probably at work, herself.

The doorbell chimes, giving Harry a welcome reprieve from trying to furtively calculate the point of inflection for the graph he’s been staring at for the past half hour.

Looking through the peephole in the door, he doesn’t recognize the person standing there. She’s a teenager, with shoulder-long brownish hair and a tall backpack at her feet. She might be a year or two younger than Harry, with glasses, short legs and a rumpled shirt.

Harry doesn’t know her, doesn’t know if he’s ever seen her before. She looks plain enough that he might have seen her around the neighbourhood but forgot about her. There are a few families that moved here in the years he’d been staying with his father.

She looks harmless enough, though, so he opens the door. “Hi. Can I help you?”

She cocks her head to the side, considers him for a moment. “You must be Harry,” she says, then sticks her hand out for him to shake. “I’m Estelle. Sorry to bother you, but my brother said to come here if I got turned around on my way, and he isn’t home, so I thought I’d come here, because I don’t have a key to the house, and I didn’t want to just sit on the porch until he returns.”

Harry shakes her hand, tries to make sense of her words. “Your brother?” he echoes the part of the barrage of words that he hopes will make this make sense.

“Percy Jackson,” she offers easily. “Works with your dad, apparently. I’m here to visit him for my summer break.”

Which, yeah, Percy had mentioned something to that effect at the last 118 barbecue. Harry just hadn’t thought the sister would show up here. Then again, Bobby did text him that he’s running late due to an emergency and overtime and Bobby running late probably means Percy working overtime, as well.

“Yeah, there was a building collapse and the 118 has to work overtime.” He steps to the side, opens the door wider. “Come on in, then. Can I offer you something to drink?”

He doesn’t really have the time or inclination to play host (not if he wants to meet his friends later) but being raised by Athena and Michael Grant as well as Bobby Nash leaves no other option but being polite to a guest.

“Water is fine,” Estelle replies, kicking off her shoes next to the door and leaning her backpack against the couch in the living area before following Harry over to the kitchen and accepting a glass.

Her eyes wander over to the dining room table, the Maths textbooks littered across it. “Am I interrupting you?”

Harry shrugs. “Not like I was getting anywhere, anyway.” He makes a vague gesture towards the desk. “Mr. O’Brian was totally chill during the school year. But when he realized at the end of the year that we didn’t manage to fulfil the year’s curriculum, he declared the rest of it summer reading.”

There had been quite the uproar at the announcement. But at the end, one thing had been clear: no matter weather the measure was acceptable or not, not catching up with the rest of the curriculum would leave Harry stranded and struggling to catch up with the rest of class next year under another teacher assuming they already learned what they were supposed to.

“That sucks,” Estelle says easily. “I only have to read two books over the holiday, that feels pretty doable. Got started on the first one on the plane on my way here and will probably finish it on the plane back.”

Harry settles back down at the table, running a hand down his face as the inflection point he gets from his calculation simply won’t line up with the graph he drew.

“You good?” Estelle asks. She’s still hovering somewhere between the kitchen and the living room with her luggage, looking at Harry in consideration.

She should just get on her phone or something, then Harry could try to understand where he went wrong. “Yeah, Algebra just never was my strong suit. Do you need WiFi or anything?”

Estelle doesn’t answer his question, instead ambles over to peer at his notes. “May I?” she asks, reaching for his latest calculations.

“Whatever, sure,” Harry says. He has no interest in being laughed at for not being able to finish his homework. But it’s not like he has much of an idea what the issue is, so he doubts someone who’s even younger and not as far at school would be able to identify it, anyway.

So, he’s fairly surprised when Estelle says “This should be Z to the power of two, not the power of three.”

“What?”

She puts the paper back down in front of him. “See here?” She asks, pointing at where he’d written down the second-order derivative for the function he’s working with. “You forgot to subtract one from the exponent when going from the first-order derivative to the second-order derivative.”

And yeah, now that it’s pointed out to him, Harry sees his mistake. “Thanks,” he says slowly. He erases the three, writes down a two in its stead, punches the new equation into his calculator. Lo and behold, the result aligns with the graph he drew.

Estelle walks over to her backpack and returns a moment later with a book in hand. “Figured if you’re doing summer assignments, I might as well,” she says easily as she settles at the table with him. She opens “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time” just over half-way through and begins reading in silence.

The morning passes quickly and amicably. When Harry gets stuck on his calculations, Estelle is quick to find the mistake and explain it to him in conclusive terms. In turn, Harry chats absent-mindedly about her summer reading while he makes both of them snacks, having read the book himself only a year prior.

By the time noon rolls around, texts from Denny and Chris start tickling in, making plans for the afternoon. Chris apparently got a new game and offers to hang out at his place until his dad gets home. (There is something between the lines about him not wanting to leave the house today, and Denny easily agrees to the suggestion.)

Harry looks over at Estelle, by now close to finishing her book. She meets his gaze, quirks an eyebrow. “Am I keeping you from something? I can just go back to Percy’s. He’s peobably home by now.”

If Bobby hasn’t made it home by now and neither has Eddie by the sounds of Chis’ texts, then Percy probably isn’t home, either.

“I was gonna hang out with some friends this afternoon. You could come, if you want,” he offers. Surely, Denny and Chris won’t be opposed to this. As Percy’s sister, she’s practically family. And while he can’t just leave her on her own, he’d really been looking forward to spending time with Denny and Chris.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” she hedges, keeping her spot in the book with one finger between the pages as she puts it on the table.

“You wouldn’t. Chis’ and Denny’s parents work at the 118, too. It’s still family, you know?”

For a long, considering moment, Estelle just regards him. Then, she shrugs, grabs her phone. “Alright then. I’ll just tell Percy. Where exactly is it we’re going?”

Harry rattles off the Diaz’ address from memory, adds Chris’ and Denny’s names to pass on to Percy. He shoots a message in their group chat saying he’ll be there in half an hour and bringing someone who’s practically family, anyway. His phone starts beeping with questions as Estelle sends off a voice message.

“Hi, Percy. So, I guess you’re still at that collapsed building thing. Or not any more, I guess, by the time you’re listening to this. I spent the morning at the Grants’. I’m fine, you don’t have to feel bad for saving people instead of hanging out with me. Harry was planning on hanging out with his friends this afternoon and asked if I’d want to come along. So, we’re headed to Chris Diaz’ place, whose father Eddie works with you? And Denny Wilson is going to be there, too. Don’t stress on my account. Just pick me up whenever, yeah? Love you.”

The door to the Diaz home is open when Harry parks his car in front of it. He walks in, Estelle a few steps behind him. It’s a well-practised routine by now, to kick off his shoes as he shuts the door and shouts inside the house.

“Yo, you here?”

“Kitchen,” comes Denny’s voice from the other room.

Harry waits for Estelle to toe off her own shoes and set her travel bag pack against the shoe rack before motioning for her to follow him.

Chris is sitting at the kitchen isle while Denny’s rummaging around in the fridge. Both of them look up when Harry enters with Estelle in tow.

“You’re not May,” Chris blurts out.

Estelle turns to him, looks for a moment, considers. She does that a lot, Harry finds. Thinks before she talks.

“No, I’m Estelle.”

Denny noisily closes the fridge, comes over, hand outstretched. “He doesn’t mean anything by it,” he assures their guest. “We had just been expecting Harry to bring his sister, for some reason. I’m Denny, that’s Chris.”

“Why would May want to come along?” Harry asks.

Denny shrugs. “I don’t know. But you didn’t specify and we didn’t actually expect you to spring an impromptu girlfriend on us.”

“Well, I’m not! Estelle is Percy’s sister.”

Chris chortles. “Oh. That’d make dating awkward.”

Denny, as always, is already putting together the pieces. “So, your brother is stuck with whatever emergency the 118 is working, therefore you’re stuck to hang out with us?” His smile is open and friendly and Harry admires him a bit for the easy-going way he has with strangers.

(Harry did have that, too, once upon a time. But he got wary of strangers – even though by then, it could already have been too late.)

“Other way around, though, isn’t it?” Estelle asks. “Me crashing your boys’ hang?”

“Honestly? No. We’re in dire need of someone who’s able to beat Chris at Street Fighter. Please tell me you’re a decent gamer.” Denny, who always seems to know exactly what to say to put someone at ease.

Estelle’s laugh comes out as half a snort. “I guess I’m decent.”

And she is, as it turns out, more than a decent gamer. She easily beats Chris where Denny and Harry had always ever been able to fight to loose in a landslide or win by the width of a hair.

But, Harry thinks to himself, that might have less to do with Estelle’s ability at the game and more to do with the way Chris keeps blushing every time Estelle as much as looks at him.

They play a few rounds of street fighter, then switch over to a racing game Harry can’t be bothered to remember the name of. They go through most of their snacks and are just contemplating ordering take-out for an early dinner when there’s movement in front of the house.

Cars shut off, footsteps on the porch, then the front door swings open.

It’s not even unusual for Eddie to return home with company after a shift, but today it’s not Buck trailing behind him, it’s…

“Percy!” Estelle is out of her seat and half-way through the room before her brother has even made it over the threshold.

He gathers her in a hug, lifts her off the ground, twirls her around. “Essie! Gods, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” He sets her back onto the ground. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there this morning. There was-”

“- a collapsed building,” Estelle finishes for him. “Yeah, I’ve heard. It’s fine. I found other company to hang out with.”

Percy grins at her, wide and happy and evidently still very tired. “Way cooler company than me, I’m sure.” He ruffles her hair against mild protests and leans past her so he can look into the room. “Hey, boys.”

There is a chorus of greetings, both from the teenagers in the room and from Eddie. But before long, the pair of siblings is ready to leave.

“Thanks for putting up with me today,” Estelle says as she’s putting on her shoes. “I had fun.”

“Really no problem at all. Thanks for the assist with the Maths stuff,” Harry replies. They’re practically going to be neighbours for the next few weeks. He’s sure he’s gonna see her again.

Denny – always more tactile than either of the other two – goes in for a hug that Estelle easily returns. “I hope you have a great time in LA. If you ever feel like company, just hit us up.” From anyone else, it might have felt like flirting. But the way Denny says it, with that easy softness and that earnestness swinging in his voice, it just comes off genuine.

Chris’ “Maybe we’ll see each other again” however, is probably meant to convey more than it actually does.

Chapter Text

The first time Annabeth Chase enters Camp Half-Blood, it’s with Luke at her side, her knife in her hand, an army of monsters at her back and the first traces of mourning creeping up on her.

The first time Annabeth Chase enters Camp Jupiter, she does so via a rope ladder descending from a floating air ship, with destiny on her shoulders, her knife left behind in her room and her missing boyfriend walking towards her.

The first time Annabeth Chase enters New Rome University, she does so with a bag over her shoulder, a knife at her hip and whispers following her across campus.

“Graceus,” they call her, and “daughter of the virgin goddess”. The Roman counterpart of her mother is different from the Athena Annabeth is descendant from. The Romans see in her a softer goddess, one that is more dedicated to arts and crafts, not the skills of war. They see in her a goddess that mothers no children.

So the Romans see in Annabeth a Half-Blood who shouldn’t be.

But they also see the girlfriend of their former Praetor, of a man who endeared himself to this community within days and proved his skill in battle and adventure so entirely that they made him praetor after knowing him for a mere week.

They see a woman who sailed the ancient sea with six companions of whom four had been praetor at one time or another and still gets offered the head seat at the table whenever they all get together.

Annabeth sees ancient buildings and large hallways and other students walking the corridors who don’t yet see her as a peer. She’s an outsider in these hallways, someone who didn’t fight in the legion, someone who never trained under Lupa, someone who doesn’t have the SPQR tattoo on her arm.

It doesn’t matter. They’ll get used to one another.

The auditorium she takes her first class in seats about three dozen students. Half the seats are taken already. Annabeth sits down in the front row, ignores the whispering in the rows behind her.

“Is this seat taken?” a soft voice asks.

Before her stands a young woman with thick brown curls and a timid smile. One hand is curling around a book bag, the other is gripping a dog’s leash. The only dogs Annabeth had seen around New Rome so far had been Reyna’s. Even though clearly a service dog, this one seems downright normal against the two beasts Reyna calls her own.

“No. Go ahead, take a seat,” Annabeth says, gesturing to the empty seat next to her.

The dog – an eager looking brown Labrador – curls up just next to the desk while its owner takes the spot next to Annabeth.

“Hi, I’m Margaret, this is Arlo.”

“Annabeth. Nice to meet the two of you.”

Margaret smiles in her vague direction. “So, how long have you been in New Rome for?”

It’s a fair assumption, Annabeth supposes, that she hasn’t just moved here. A fair assumption that New Rome has been the centre of her life for a few years, as most Roman half-bloods or descendants rarely leave the warded area if not pressed to do so.

“Not for long, actually. I just moved here for the start of the semester. What about yourself?”

“Oh, I lived here my whole life, basically. My parents both were part of the legion when they were younger, so they settled in the city. Where are you from, then? If you’re not from here?”

For a moment, Annabeth thinks about bending the truth. Considers skirting around the part where she’s already got some kind of a reputation around here, even though she’s not really part of this community yet. But that seems unfair, and also not feasible for longer than maybe a few days.

“I grew up at Camp Half-Blood,” she says, giving the place that still feels the most like home.

Margaret nods in recognition of the name. “Oh, you’re one of them Greeks, then?”

Annabeth hums in reply.

“Is it true that your living arrangements are sorted by ancestry, instead of considering which quarters have space in them, where people are needed?”

They chat a bit about Camp Half-Blood, Annabeth gladly answering Margaret’s questions until their professor comes in. They go over the curriculum for the year, talk about which materials they’d need, the assignment they’ll have to turn in by the end of year.

Margaret and Arlo are headed to the same class as Annabeth after that first one. They sit together once again, then spend lunch together.

Annabeth learns that Margaret has been living in New Rome her entire life, has never left the city for more than a day at a time. For all that her parents are warriors and fought battles in their own youth, they worry about Margaret whenever she’s out of their sight.

“I mean, in a way, I get it, you know?” Margaret says over a cheese sandwich at lunch. “With the whole blindness thing, things aren’t always easy for me. But that doesn’t mean I need to be sheltered all the time, surely?”

The first time Annabeth had been the recipient of real parental worry, it had come from Sally Jackson and Annabeth had been way into her teens. Having people worried about you from a young age sounds nice, actually. But then again, Annabeth knows what it feels like to be judged by what you can’t do instead of what you can.

There has to be some form of middle ground, where one can feel safe but still have space to grow.

“If you ever want a space away from them, you’re always welcome at my place,” she offers easily. Percy would probably adore Arlo.

Margaret smiles. “That’s nice. But I don’t think dogs are allowed in the student dorms.”

“Well, first off, I don’t think that counts for service dogs. Secondly, I don’t live in the dorms. I’ve got a flat with my boyfriend, Percy.”

Margaret stops in the midst of picking up her water to take a drink, lets her hand sink onto the table, cocks her head in consideration. “Oh, you’re that Annabeth,” she says after a moment’s thought. “In that case, I’d love to swing by some time. My parents are a bit overbearing.”

The first day, classes are relaxed, are about getting to know the professors, the campus, the classes. Annabeth doesn’t click with any of the other students the same way as she does with Margaret, but that’s fine.

She made one more friend than she honestly expected on her first day.

The others might come around or they might not, but if all else fails, she’s still got Percy.

The first time Annabeth Chase enters the training grounds of New Rome, she does so with Percy at her side, a sword at her hip, leather armour donned. A hush falls over the yard and Annabeth can’t tell if it’s because of her or because of Percy.

The first week of classes is over, the course load already starting to pile on.

But today is Saturday, they don’t have classes and neither of them got a proper workout in the past few days. So today, they went out to spar.

Getting warmed up is a well-trodden path, movements and routines blurring into each other until they both feel loose and take up one of the free sand squares set up for sparring.

“First blood?” Annabeth asks.

She needs this today, needs to go all-in, needs to be able to loose herself in this. She needs Percy to not hold back in fear of hurting her, needs her muscles to be sore at the end of the day.

Percy uncaps Anaklysmos, the sword springing into existence. “You’re welcome to tap out, too,” he replies.

It’s enough, though. Percy understands her, he always does. He’s not out for blood – he rarely is, and never when it’s her – but he knows her well enough to see that she needs to get out of her head.

“Likewise.”

Annabeth attacks first, jumps at Percy with a barrage of stabs and slashes. Percy yanks his sword up in the nick of time, deflecting the blow before he can come to any harm.

Swinging her sword up and around, Annabeth tries to get to his unprotected side, but Percy parries again and again and again. That’s not all he does, though, going into the offense whenever Annabeth gives him half a second to breathe, hounding her across the field just as she does to him.

When Percy pulls his sword up, causing their swords to clash above their heads, Annabeth’s hand goes to her hip, pulls the knife sheathed there.

Before she can stab him in the side, Percy whirls away, brings a few feet of distance between them. “Oh, so that’s how we’re doing it?” He hits a button on the watch on his wrist, and a bronze shield folds out of the timepiece and into Percy’s hand.

They herd each other across the training area, attack for attack being met with parry after parry. After countless times of doing this together, sparring with Percy feels less like fighting and more like an elaborate dance.

That doesn’t mean that Annabeth doesn’t have to focus on what she’s doing. The very second she lets her mind wander, she knows Percy will notice and take advantage of it.

After all, it goes both ways.

Annabeth doesn’t know how long they’ve been fighting by the time they start winding down. Percy’s covered in a thin layer of sweat and Annabeth can hear her heart hammering away in her chest.

“Time out?” Percy asks.

Annabeth nods, lowers her weapons.

Now that the clashing and clanging of their weapons is gone, now that the man in front of her isn’t the only thing Annabeth can focus on - his sword, his shield, his attacks and breaks in his defence - Annabeth realizes that there is little else she can hear besides the rushing of blood in her ears and the panting breaths of the man she loves.

All the fighting in the arena has come to a stop.

All the other people who’d come here this morning to spar, to train and let off some steam, have paused in their own routine, staring at Annabeth and Percy in their midst.

Annabeth knows what Percy looks like when he fights, but still… “That’s a bit ridiculous, don’t you think?” she mutters. “Sure, you were their Praetor and all, but that seems a bit much, doesn’t it?”

Percy grabs their water bottles, hands one to Annabeth. “They’re not staring at me.” He downs half his bottle of water in one go.

“What? Why wouldn’t they be?”

Percy quirks an eyebrow. “They’ve seen me fight before, remember? They know what I can do. You’re the new variable. And they think your mother is one of the delicate arts.”

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” Annabeth admonishes, taking a drink herself.

“If you say so. Fancy changing things up a little?” Percy not even engaging in this conversation sits weird with Annabeth. But it’s of no use debating it, she figures. And another round sounds just what she needs right now. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, Percy approaches a nearby group of six who’d been running trough forms when Annabeth and Percy had come in. They are a mix of ages, the youngest look to be only a few years older than Annabeth and Percy themselves, probably in their last years of uni or fresh out of it. Old enough that they weren’t actively part of the legion when Percy joined, but still young enough to be in the loop, to have gotten the stories of him first-hand. Young enough, probably, that they’d been part of the fight when Percy, Hazel and Frank had returned with the eagle standard and fought Polybotes. The oldest of the group meanwhile looks somewhere in her fifties, war-grizzled and still with a spark in her eye.

“Hey there. Can I interest you in some friendly sparring?”

The group looks between Percy and Annabeth.

A tall man with dark skin and bright shining armour cocks his head in consideration. “Sure,” he says slowly. “Groups of four?”

Percy shakes his head. “Our fighting styles would probably mix weird. Us two against you six? Loosers have to buy the winners a drink?”

“Are you even old enough to buy anyone a drink?”

Percy smiles, and Annabeth knows that smile. It’s wide, and open and to anyone who doesn’t know Percy reads as happy and unconcerned. Someone who knows Percy as well as she does, however, sees the clear undertone of “I’m going to fuck your shit up, just you wait.”

“No. That’s why it’s a good thing you’ll be buying.”

They laugh, humouring rather than actually amused. “Well then, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Romans are famous even millennia later for their military tactics. Famous for their phalanxes and their unbreakable shield formations. Camp Jupiter and New Rome have dedicated themselves to keeping those styles alive, to honing those ancient skills and having a standing legion well-trained in these tactics.

Annabeth and Percy, fighting side-by-side for going on a decade, take them apart in a matter of minutes.

They come at their formation slashing and stabbing, feigning left and hitting right. Percy manages to drive a rift into them by throwing his whole body weight into an attack. It splits two of them off from the group, easy pickings for Annabeth while Percy fights off the other four, keeps them from helping their comrades, keeps them busy.

Once Annabeth has disarmed her opponents – drawn blood from one and a surrender from the other – she leaps back to his side. While Percy goes high, Annabeth goes low. She slashes at the feet of one of their frontmen, making him stumble.

She’s on him in an instance, kicks his sword out of his hand, pins his arm to the ground. He taps out with the other.

With only three opponents left and the formation broken for good, the last opponents are easy pickings for Percy.

Once they’ve made sure the only injuries that won’t be healed in a day are to their opponents’ pride, they do introductions.

“I’m actually throwing a party tonight, you’re welcome to swing by.” the guy who’d agreed to the challenge in the first place says. “I’m Kasem, by the way.”

The first time Annabeth Chase enters the City Hall in New York, she’s not Annabeth Chase any more. She’s Annabeth Jackson. She enters City Hall with her husband by her side and her marriage licence in her hand.

“Congratulations,” the office clerk tells them upon receiving the paperwork. “Did you have a nice ceremony?”

“The best.”

They got married at Camp Half-Blood, just at the beginning of summer. Guests had come in from all over the country, many of them from New Rome; Magnus and his friends; Sadie, Carter and their partners; dozens upon dozens of people they’d met on their travels over the years.

Estelle had been the most adorable flower girl anyone could imagine. Sally and Paul had sat in the first row, both trying their hardest and still failing to keep their tears at bay. Annabeth’s father and her stepmother along with her step-brothers were their too, trying and failing to hide their confusion and general discomfort.

Chiron had officiated, because neither of them would even consider the thought of anyone else doing it.

Grover had valiantly refrained from eating the ring box until after the ceremony when he’d handed over the rings to the married couple.

The following party had gone until far into the next morning, turning half the camp upside-down. Annabeth had lost count on how many people she’d danced with, how many people hugged her and congratulated her and wished her all the best. She lost count of how many times people clinked their cutlery against their glasses and how many times Percy blushed and kissed her and how many times someone came and pulled Percy from her side because they hadn’t yet danced with the groom. She knows that Leo had been the first to do it and Jason the one who’d done it the most often.

She doesn’t know how many times she saw someone sneak Arlo a treat under the table while Margaret was being twirled over the dance floor or how many sweets Estelle wheedled out of the other guests.

She doesn’t care how it came about that Margaret was eventually pulled away by Meg or what happened for Mallory Keen to end up dancing with Tyson.

All she cared about was Percy’s beaming smile every time their eyes met, was the soft way his hands stroked along her back as they danced, was the softness of his eyes, was the love for her he practically radiated.

And if their friends eventually grew tired about them making eyes at each other and decided to throw them into the lake, it didn’t really matter, either.

After all, they’d been there before, at the very beginning of their relationship. Kissing at at the bottom of the lake while their friends stood topside, waiting for them to emerge.

The office clerk smiles, disinterested, her eyes skimming over the submitted paperwork. “This looks all good. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson. May your marriage hold longer than mine did.”

The first time Annabeth Jackson enters an auditorium at Columbia, she feels like that first day in New Rome, all over again. Only that this time, there are no barely-concealed whispers, no odd glances thrown her way. Only that this day, Margaret won’t sit down at her side and Arlo won’t curl up between them on a couch a week from now.

Her fellow students are her peers in an academic sense. But up until now, each and every one of Annabeth’s peers had known to fight with their fists, with a weapon. Up until now, Annabeth’s relative lack of money had never been much of an issue.

Columbia has enough students that took on loans to go here or who got in on a scholarship. But the presence of those who need neither because their parents are loaded enough to pay a college tuition out of pocket can’t be overlooked.

Annabeth keeps her head down – something she’s never been particularly good at – until she gets a feeling for who’s who. She finds a study group but no people she’d consider friends.

Once the year progresses and grades start going in, she gets rivals, too. Not that Annabeth is interested in acquiring them, but once you’re top of the class, it’s hard not to have them.

The first time Annabeth enters the main building of Wayne & Co Incorporated, she’s there for an interview. She’s in pressed slacks and a nice blouse and sensible shoes. The receptionist is polite, offers her a smile and tells her to wait by some couches until the HR manager arrives.

The HR manager is an ass who looks down at Annabeth from the second he sees her. “So, you’re applying for the junior engineering position? Sure you wouldn’t be better suited to marketing?”

Annabeth bites her tongue and manages a smile. “So, you’re running the HR department,” she wants to shoot back but fights very hard so she doesn’t. “Sure you wouldn’t be better suited to work with rocks?”

“Yes, I’m Annabeth Jackson. Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Embers,” the man introduces himself. “Come on, then.”

They head to a conference room. Mr. Embers grabs himself a coffee, but doesn’t offer one to Annabeth. He sits down – not even offering Annabeth a seat, as well, and skims through a print-out of her resume.

Annabeth takes a seat.

After a few minutes, the door flies open again. The newcomer is dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt, has a curly mullet on their head and a stack of papers under their arm. From the left ear dangles a single feather earring.

“Hi there. Sorry, I’m-” they check their watch- “Only two minutes late. Alright. I thought it’d be worse. Hi. I’m Jen Strider, I use they/ them pronouns, I’m head of the redevelopment department here at Wayne Inc.”

Annabeth lets out a small sigh of relief. That’s an energy she knows how to deal with. “Hello. I’m Annabeth Jackson, she/ her. Thanks for meeting with me.”

Jen throws their papers onto the table, hurries over to the small fridge in one corner of the room. “I’m sure Mr. Embers already offered you a coffee, but could I interest you in anything else? Water, limo, juice?”

“I’ll have a water, thanks.”

Keeping up with Jen is quite a task, the engineer talking a mile a minute whenever they open their mouth. But then again, they still talk at about half the speed Leo usually does, so Annabeth is more than used to it.

Mr. Embers mainly keeps out of the conversation, only offers answers when a question is posed directly to him. What’s their bonus program like? Do they have work-from-home? Do they offer dental? The set-up is clear: Annabeth is here to make Jen want her. Mr. Embers is here to make Annabeth want the company.

And she does, is the thing, want the company. It’s why she’d applied. Everyone wants this company, as it’s one of the bigger construction companies in the city, and one that actually looks to build sustainably, one that invests in new technologies.

Jen asks her some general questions about her course of life. Columbia, that’s impressive. Is Prof. Moles still teaching that awful economics course? What made her choose Wayne Inc.? Why the redevelopment department, why not the more prestigious field of new buildings – most architecture students dream of designing sky scrapers?

Finding answers to the questions posed to her is easy enough.

The economics course is now taught by Prof. Flebs, but still awful. Wayne Inc. offers a wide field of opportunities that appear very interesting and the offer for junior engineer caught her eye immediately.

Annabeth had fallen in love with older buildings even before she’d fallen in love with the idea of being an architect. Skyscrapers made of glass might be the state of the art, might be modern and impressive in their very own way but they lack the sense of whimsy that makes architecture not only daunting but fun.

Jen nods along with her answers, takes notes then and again.

Finally, they take one of the papers from the stack they brought, put it in front of Annabeth. “This is a blueprint of a mansion out on Long Island. The new owner wants to refurbish it without loosing the sense of whimsy, as you’d say. What would you do?”

Annabeth pulls the blueprint closer. “Do we have a budget on this?”

“No.”

“May I draw on this?”

Jen places a pencil and an eraser in front of her. “Sure.”

Trying to plan something like this without much of an input is a double-edged sword. Sure, there’s endless possibilities for this, countless ideas already forming in Annabeth’s mind. But this isn’t just about generating the ideas, but about curating them, about prioritizing, about understanding not only what the client wants, but what they need.

“I would start with putting solar panels on the roof, or maybe a solar thermal installation as I assume this house comes with a pool that runs cold outside of the summer months. Then we should open up the kitchen – this wall doesn’t look to be load-bearing…”

Tracing her pencil around the blueprint as she talks, Annabeth sketches out her ideas, both with words and on paper. By the time she looks up to gauge Jen’s reaction, she’s talking about getting rid of one of the five bathrooms to install an indoor-sauna instead. Jen’s look is inscrutable, unreadable, relaxed. Looking for some kind of a reaction, Annabeth turns to look at Mr. Embers. But the man is looking more confused than anything else, apparently still trying to figure out how Annabeth manages to identify the load-bearing walls.

By the time she puts her pen down, there are about half a dozen big and another dozen smaller changes sketched out on paper.

Jen takes the blueprint and puts another one in front of her. “We took over this project from an independent architect who couldn’t continue it due to personal reasons. The client liked his ideas. What do we need to pay special attention to before we start work?”

That one is harder, but Annabeth manages to come up with an answer that she feels makes sense.

When she leaves the building a good 90 minutes after entering, she feels a bit wrung out and not at all sure about her prospects.

Mr. Embers calls her only a week later, offering her the job. He doesn’t sound all too pleased about it. But that’s fine. Annabeth is.

The first time Annabeth Jackson enters the delivery ward of the New York Presbyterian Hospital, she does so with Percy by her side, and her contractions coming two minutes apart.

What comes after is a bit of a blur, honestly.

She knows that Percy doesn’t leave her side and that she squeezes his hand hard enough to make his bones creak.

The first clear memory she has of that day is a nurse pressing a tiny pink bundle of screaming wonder into her arms.

They call her Zoe.

The first time Annabeth Jackson gets called into Mr. Wayne’s office, it’s a Friday.

She’s talked to the man before, has sat in on many a meeting with him. She’s been at his company for a few years, has changed departments, has moved up the ladder of hierarchy.

But the boss and owner of the company rarely calls people into the small corner office he works from. Meetings are usually either in one of the designated rooms or he comes down to whoever he wants to talk to.

He makes a point of that, of walking the floors of his company instead of summoning his employees to him. To be called into his office is either very bad news or very good news.

Annabeth doesn’t know what she could have done to get on his bad side, but she doesn’t really know what good news he could have for her, either. There was a shareholders’ meeting a week back, but that usually doesn’t affect the day-to-day.

Mr. Wayne smiles as Annabeth enters his office. “Mrs. Jackson, thank you for stepping by. Please, take a seat.”

He wants her to take over the Los Angeles branch.

He puts it out in front of her in simple terms, with short words, lacking any sort of flowery language. She is well-suited, and they want someone to transfer from New York, and couldn’t Annabeth be convinced to move coasts? They’d be more than willing to make up for the inconvenience.

It sounds a bit like name your price and we might just be willing to pay it.

Annabeth leaves the room half an hour later, as close to speechless as she ever gets.

She has to talk to her husband.

The first time Annabeth Jackson enters the Wayne Inc. headquarters in LA, she does so as the second in command.

She walks up to the front desk where a bored young woman greets her, barely looking up from her phone. “Heyo. What can I do for ya?”

“Good morning. My name is Annabeth Jackson. Mr. Samson should be waiting for me.”

That makes the receptionist’s head jerk up. Be it her own name or invoking the boss’s name, Annabeth immediately has her undivided attention. “Oh, of course. This way, please.”

They leave the reception desk unattended while they take the elevator to the uppermost level. “Mr. Samson has been a bit off those past few days,” the receptionist chatters. “I think his daughter is acting up again. She got kicked out of two colleges already, can you imagine? Maybe this’ll be the third.” Annabeth lets her talk, makes a mental note not to let personal information slip in this company she doesn’t want to be spread.

The elevator doors ding, opening to a big front-office in which a ginger woman sits at a desk. “Gina! How are you? How was you show on Sunday?” The receptionist from downstairs immediately transfers her attention to the boss’s secretary.

“Theresa, how nice to see you.” The secretary – Gina, apparently – only spares her a quick glance before her eyes land on Annabeth. She stands up, comes around the desk to offer Annabeth a handshake. “Hi, I’m Gina, I’m Mr. Samson’s personal secretary. You must be Annabeth Jackson? It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Yes. Nice to meet you, too.”

While Annabeth is lead through to Mr. Samson’s office, Theresa lingers in the front room. As the door closes behind her and Annabeth turns to greet the man who’s job she is supposed to take over in a few years’ time, she can just hear Gina herding Theresa back into the elevator and to her post downstairs.

Back in the day, Mr. Samson might have been an impressive man. But the man who greets her is in his sixties, long past his prime, with haunched shoulders and a harried look about him.

“Mrs. Jackson. Nice to meet you. I’m glad Mr. Wayne found someone he finds worthy of taking over my spot.” There are some hurt feelings in the statement, but Annabeth can’t quite place what sparked them.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Samson. I’m thrilled to be here.”

“Yeah, well. Let’s see how long that lasts. Your office is three doors down to the left. If you need anything, let Gina know.”

Annabeth knows a dismissal when she hears one. Surprised as she is about the shortness of the conversation, she leaves the office. She’ll find her own room, get set up. With any luck, they’ll already have server access for her, a computer and such, some reading materials.

When she opens the door, Gina doesn’t look all too surprised to see her back out so quickly. She grabs a stack of papers from her desk. “Come on. I’ll show you your office.”

Annabeth has a corner office with a nice view over the city, with all glass walls. There is a desk with a high chair, a sitting area with couches, some book cases.

“This is you,” Gina says, pulling a few of the doors to the cupboards open. “You’ve got writing material here, internal documents on this shelf, city decrees and such over there. You’ve got a mini fridge behind this door, a small printer in here – if you need to print anything larger than A4, I can show you the other printers, too.” She does a quick sweep through the room like that, points out everything from building codes to coffee creamer hidden next to the coffee machine.

Finally, Gina pulls a second chair up to the desk, leaving the office chair to Annabeth and puts the first paper from her stack in front of the keyboard. “IT already set up your computer. This is your password for the initial login, of course you have to change it.”

Annabeth starts the computer, logs in, changes the password. Gina walks her through the logins for a few of the licensed softwares they’ve got, as well as setting up her e-mail-account and the office package.

“If that’s alright with you, I’ll link your calendar with mine, so I can help with arranging meetings and such.”

Annabeth looks at her. “You’re Mr. Samson’s secretary,” she points out.

The smile Gina offers her is slim. “I’m the secretary for the upper management.”

“How many people are considered upper management in LA?”

“Now that you’re here? Two.”

Meaning that Gina’s responsibilities just doubled from handling one boss to handling two. Meaning that Mr. Samson did not see it necessary to find a secretary for Annabeth.

“I understand. Feel free to link our calendars. Is there anything in mine so far?” Annabeth clicks onto the small icon and finds a blank calendar. “Doesn’t seem to have linked up, yet.”

Gina’s smile turns more strained. “No, it’s working alright, I think. You just don’t have any meetings yet.”

Annabeth clicks over to her inbox. She has two dozen e-mails, all from within the last week. They’re all either addressed to the whole company or are menial mails with information on the on-boarding-progress: two mails from IT, three from HR, one from security, a few from Gina.

“We never had to on-board someone to your position, so there isn’t really a progress for that.” Gina looks apologetic.

Annabeth takes a deep breath. It’s of no use to anybody to get mad at the messenger. “To the best of your knowledge, does Mr. Samson intend to oversee my on-boarding progress?”

“To the best of my knowledge, Mr. Samson will be on vacation out of state for two weeks beginning the day after tomorrow.”

“Taking that as a no.”

Gina shrugs her assent.

“Are there any big meetings this week that I should know of? Shareholders, Heads of Departments, general assembly?”

“Well, most department heads do weekly meetings with their peers. Finances does a monthly meeting with the Senior Department Heads. But nothing out of turn, no. The next shareholder meeting is four months away, the next call with W.I. headquarters is at the end of the month.”

Annabeth thinks that through for a moment. “Thank you. Could you look up when Mr. Samson has some time so I could talk to him today?”

Gina doesn’t even pull out her phone. “He’s free now. He takes his breakfast at 9:30, you shouldn’t go in there until ten. He’s got a phone call scheduled at eleven thirty, that should go until one p.m. at which time he’ll head off to lunch. After lunch he’s got a meeting at city hall. He’ll probably be back in the office around four or five, do some paperwork and leave by six.”

Annabeth sets herself a timer to go talk to her boss at ten thirty. Gina nods her approval. “Do you want me to leave you alone so you can work through your e-mails?” she asks, fingers drumming on the stack of papers in front of them.

“This looks like it needs signatures and filing,” Annabeth acknowledges. “Why don’t we get it over with?”

Gina looks relieved at not having to try and talk her into doing bothersome paperwork. It’s a lot of stuff, but Gina breezes through it efficiently. She hands Annabeth a company phone, has her sign for it, followed by a company credit card. She makes a copy of Annabeth’s driver’s license, then hands her the keys to her company car, has her sign for that, too. She hands Annabeth a key fob with general access and a key ring with manual keys – and has her sign for them, as well.

“You’ll get your company card made as soon as you step by the marketing department so they can take your picture and you’re free to go pick up your PPE down at storage at any time. Or you can tell me your sizes, then I’ll pick it up for you. Your business cards are already ordered, should be arriving the day after tomorrow at the latest.”

By now, Annabeth’s head is swimming with all the new information and she could need a break. A look at the clock in a corner of her screen tells her that they’ve been at this for almost two hours.

“How about this: We’ll take a break to have breakfast. Afterwards, I’ll talk to Mr. Samson on whether or not he plans on participating in my onboarding process. And then we’ll see what comes next.”

“That sounds good. See you in a bit.”

Half an hour later, Annabeth stands in front of a mildly irritated man who apparently does not intend to apply himself to making sure his eventual replacement finds her way into his company.

“You’re a smart young lady, I’m told. I’m sure you’ll find your way around.” Mr. Samson doesn’t even seem callouse about it, just deeply disinterested. “If you have any questions about anything, just ask Gina. Or literally anyone in this building but me. They all have to answer to you. I don’t. And I have other things on my mind right now. So, just go and do whatever.”

Whatever.

Whatever.

Either, Annabeth and Mr. Samson won’t be seeing much of each other at all, or there’s going to be a clash coming.

For now, she leaves the office.

Gina is typing away on her computer, but looks up as Annabeth approaches. “Are you accompanying Mr. Samson to his meeting this afternoon?”

Gina shakes her head. “No.”

“Good. He does not intend on participating in my on-boarding progress. So, I’ll find a way to do this, myself. I would like you to send me an organigram of this branch of the company, so I can familiarize myself with the departments. After lunch, I’d like to do a walk-through to introduce myself to people. We’re going to step by marketing for the pictures and the storage for the protection equipmen while we’re at it. Please inform whoever you find suitable of that so we won’t be standing in front of empty offices this afternoon. If people have pre-planned meetings or outings, I’ll meet them another time. Does that sound like a plan? I think that sounds like a plan.”

“I think that sounds like a plan,” Gina echoes with a smile. “I’ll send that organigram to you and inform the department heads of our quick stepping by this afternoon. Anything else?” There’s a lilt to her voice, like she’s waiting for something.

“Maybe. What am I missing?” Because Annabeth has worked with people like her in New York. People who are smart, who have done their jobs for years, people who know what to do and how to do it. But who are held down by superiors who don’t want to hear ideas they didn’t have themselves.

“If you wanted to, I could set up proper meetings with the department heads over the next couple of days or weeks. To talk about more than introductions, to get to know them. And so they can get to know you.”

Which is a smart plan, probably. To sit down with the people in management positions in the company she’s supposed to help lead. “Sounds good. Please, set it up.”

By the time Annabeth is back at her desk, she already has an e-mail from Gina in her inbox with the organigram of the LA branch attached. By the time Annabeth has worked through the organigram and the few other e-mails that weren’t bureaucratic nonsense or menial notices for the entire branch, she has a dozen meetings with department heads in her calendar for the following week.

By the time Annabeth heads home in the evening, her head is swimming with new faces and names. Gina had shown her around, had told her names and departments and connections between them. She’d taken Annabeth to get her picture taken and to pick up the PPE and to meet dozens upon dozens of people in between.

Annabeth is beat.

She can’t wait to do it all again tomorrow.

The first time Annabeth Jackson sets foot onto a construction site in LA, she’s been in the City of Angles for almost a month and is still speed-running her on-boarding. At her side is one of the senior engineers, Hal, who talks her through progress and procedure.

The air is still cold and clammy from the recent night, the construction crew already up and about, even while clutching their coffees.

This is her routine, these days, and one that works well enough: in the morning, Annabeth meets with one of the Department Heads, or a senior employee, and they tell walk her through a half-day of their life. They tell her about their responsibilities and their struggles and their successes. They tell her where things go well and at which points things grind to a halt.

This is the first morning that finds Annabeth on a construction site, and she didn’t realize just how much she’d missed it. As odd as it might seem, but she missed the smell of wet cement, the whirring of cranes being erected, the taste of dust in the air.

The morning passes far too quickly and soon, Annabeth finds herself back in her office at the very top of the fancy office building. Mr. Samson is doing who knows what a few doors down. Gina steps in once in a while with a question or an update.

Gina, as Annabeth had quickly realized, is one of the main reasons anything works in this branch. While her official job title might be something along the lines of “secretary to upper management”, everyone lovingly calls her the “managing secretary”. If you want something to get done, if you want it to get done right, want it to get done fast, you go to Gina. Gina knows all.

Gina will straighten and preen when told exactly that, but then laugh it off in the next moment. “That’s what secretaries are for,” she says.

And maybe it is a secretary’s job to make sure their charge gets to meetings on time and hands in quarterly reports when they’re due. But it’s not quite her job to do this for everyone, to stay abreast with everything happening in the company.

But she tells Annabeth whatever she needs to know.

Better tell the head of the law department to start working on those quarterlies a week early, he needs the reminder from someone higher up the chain of command, otherwise he won’t get started, at all.

Don’t schedule meetings with the heads of marketing and finances back-to-back. They have some intense beef going on, and will snipe at each other in the hallway, making one of them late to the meeting.

Don’t tell Theresa from the downstairs reception anything you don’t want to be public knowledge. But if you want to do something out in the city, ask her for recommendations, she always knows the best spots.

Mark from IT might get flustered quickly and lack understanding of social cues, but he can fix your computer faster than anyone else in the department.

“Remember, you’ve got your call with Mr. Wayne at one thirty,” Gina says as Annabeth heads off to lunch. Right. That’s today.

Annabeth cuts her lunch short to be back at her desk with time to spare. It’s the first conversation with the company’s founder and CEO since she transferred over from New York, and she doesn’t want to appear tardy by being late.

Right on time, the call connects.

“Mrs. Jackson. It’s good to see you. How are you?”

“Hello, Mr. Wayne. I’m good, thanks. Yourself?”

“You must be doing good, already working miracles over there.”

Miracles? Annabeth knows of no miracles, doesn’t even know of anything big happening in the past few weeks. How did something slip past her that managed to make its way all the way to the East coast? “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“The quarterlies, of course.”

And that doesn’t make any more sense than before. Annabeth had looked through the numbers – after Gina told her where to find them and who to remind to turn them in on time – and they looked normal. She’d compared them with the previous quarter and the corresponding quarter from the year before. The numbers have gone up slightly, but are still lagging behind the goals set for the year.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to give me more detail on that, Sir. The numbers looked rather normal to me.”

“They did, but that’s not what I’m talking about. This is the first time in maybe a decade that I get the LA numbers on time instead of half a month after everyone else’s.”

Annabeth lets out a long breath. This isn’t actually her success, rather it’s Gina’s. But she’s still glad her arrival reads good over in headquarters. “Well, I’ve got an amazing team working with me here.”

At that, Mr. Wayne’s smile turns more curious, less playful. “Is that so?”

Annabeth treads carefully as she talks. As she talks about her extensive on-boarding program, she leaves out that Mr. Samson takes all of two hours a week to show her what he’s doing. As she talks about going through the departments, she skims over the fact that multiple of them are with weak leadership from people who might have been good architects but had no business ordering other people around. As she talks about future projects, she doesn’t mention that some of them are stuck somewhere in political limbo and she doesn’t quite know how to get them out of there.

Mr. Wayne listens intently, asks questions now and again. He seems pleased overall by the time they end the call an hour later.

Two minutes after the call hangs up, Mr. Samson appears in Annabeth’s door.

“So, what did you say?”

Annabeth puts down the water she’d just been drinking by the window. “Come again?”

“You just had your call with Wayne, didn’t you? What did you say? What did he say?”

This is the first time Mr. Samson has stepped foot into her office since Annabeth started here. The few times he wanted to talk to Annabeth, he had Gina fetch her.

“He wanted to know how the onboarding is going. Said the quarterlies look good, even if we’re a bit lower than he’d hoped for.”

Mr. Samson frowns. “I didn’t send him the quarterlies.”

“That’s alright, I did, last Thursday. You must’ve skimmed past it, I cc’d it to you.”

“Hm. Well, then. Anything else?”

“Apparently, his dog sprained her ankle.” It had only come up at the very end of the call, when Mr. Wayne mentioned having to drive to the vet between meetings.

“Whatever.” And then, Mr. Samson is gone again, leaving Annabeth to continue work in peace.

The first time Annabeth Jackson enters Fire Station 118 in LA, she misses a meeting with the department head for bridge construction. She’d been on her way to work when Bobby called, concern evident in his voice.

She had met the crew of the 118 only two weeks prior to that, but already admires their Captain for the great care he shows for his subordinates.

“Could you swing by the station?” he’d asked. “Percy is… I don’t know, actually. He’s acting very off. We had a bad call today.”

Annabeth had called Gina on her way to the station, telling the other woman to cancel or reschedule all her meetings until noon and sped through the city towards her husband.

On another day, Annabeth might have admired the wooden frame of the station building, might have marvelled at the elevated loft or scoffed at the glass walls of the changing rooms.

But things being as they are, she only has eyes for Bobby already meeting her in the empty engine bay. The next shift must already be out on a call, the station being calm and empty.

“Annabeth. Thanks for coming.”

“Any time. Where is he? What happened?”

“I think he’s still in the showers. Has been there since before I called you.” Annabeth had taken a while to get here – she hadn’t been far, but LA traffic isn’t always kind. “We… we lost someone today, at our last call. A kid.”

Loosing a child on a scene is always tragic, Annabeth knows that. But this is far from the first time of that happening to Percy – not even the first time it happened to Percy here in LA.

“Tell me more?” Because if Annabeth is about to face Percy in a state where his captain sees fit calling Annabeth, she’d like to have more information than “we lost a kid”.

“It’s not like he could have done anything to save her, unfortunately. By the time we arrived, the kid was already dead. Her brain just hadn’t caught up to the fact. She’d…” Bobby takes a deep breath. “She’d gotten crushed by one of the tall bronze statues the University for Fine Arts is currently displaying down at the beach.”

Annabeth knows the statues.

She’d joked with Percy, last time they saw them, if they could be activated to fight in wars, like the ones that helped them in the battle of Manhattan all those years ago.

It feels wrong now, to have laughed about it in the first place.

“Her name was Bianca.”

And yeah, that would do it.

Bianca, crushed by a man made of bronze, and Percy unable to safe a moribund girl.

Bobby is still looking at her with that deep care in his eyes. “Bianca was the first person in his care he couldn’t safe,” Annabeth tells him.

Bobby’s face crumbles in understanding.

“You said he’s in the showers? Where are they? Any chance I’m walking into anyone who I’m not married to in there?”

Bobby points towards a corridor. “Second door to the left. No, you’re all good.”

As soon as she pushes the door to the showers open, Annabeth is hit with a wall of steam. All the showers are running, even though they are on timers and shouldn’t be running for more than thirty seconds at a time.

Not that Percy’s powers are concerned with any of that.

Percy is sitting in on of the stalls, with no door in its hinges. He’s crawled into the corner where the wooden partition hits the tiled wall. The water from the shower above shouldn’t by rights even be hitting him but is considerate enough to flow at an angle to do so anyway.

There is no reaction as Annabeth approaches, neither as she sits down in the water next to him.

Annabeth carefully lays a hand on Percy’s shoulder.

Percy lets out a shuddering breath, but doesn’t outwardly react any further.

The water previously beating down on Annabeth’s head and shoulders parts like a curtain at a school play, the puddle she sat in vanishes down the drain, the water soaking her clothes and hair evaporates.

They sit there for a long time – Percy soaking wet and Annabeth entirely dry.

“There is nothing you could have done,” Annabeth finally says.

“You don’t know that. You weren’t there.” Percy’s voice is rough from all the tears the showers already flushed down the drain.

“Bobby told me what happened.”

“I’m not this upset because of what happened today.”

“I know. But there’s nothing you could have done back then, either.”

“You don’t know that,” Percy repeats. “You weren’t there.”

“No, I wasn’t. At the time Bianca Di Angelo sacrificed herself to rescue her party members, I was being held prisoner and you were on your way to safe me. But I still know that if there had been anything you could have done to safe her, you would have. That’s just the kind of person you are.”

For a long moment, Percy is quiet. Then, “It just feels so pointless, sometimes, you know? Even with all those powers I have, even with everything I can do, I still couldn’t safe her. I couldn’t safe the Bianca today and I couldn’t safe the Bianca all those years ago.”

As if the mere mention of his powers made Percy focus on them, all the showers except for the one right above them turn off.

“This isn’t about saving every life, it never has been, never could be. It’s about saving any life.” Once in a while, Percy needs the reminder. Once in a while, they all do.

Percy collapses against Annabeth, his soaked shirt heavy and cold against her dry one.

Bobby eyes them with worry when they exit the showers fifteen minutes later. “Everything alright?” he asks Annabeth as Percy gets his stuff.

“Maybe not right now,” Annabeth admits. “But it will be.”

She’ll make sure of it.

Because they’re a family and that’s what family is for.

The first time Estelle Blofis enters the Jackson residence in Los Angeles, she does so with her exhausted brother at her side and is immediately besieged by her nieces and nephew.

Annabeth watches from the kitchen as the children attempt to use the teen as a climbing tree, making Estelle collapse onto the couch under great turmoil. Meanwhile, Percy sets her backpack down by the stairs and walks over to greet his wife.

“Hi.”

Annabeth accepts the kiss to her cheek, runs a hand down his arm. “You look tired.”

“Always with the compliments.” Percy shoots back with a grin on his face. After a moment, the grin is chased away by a drawn-out yawn. “Sorry. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Then go get some now. We’ll wake you up for dinner.”

Percy looks over at the pile of children on the couch. “I can’t just go take a nap, now. Estelle just got here!”

“And Estelle will be here almost the entire summer. You’ll have enough time with her. Besides, does this look like the kids are letting go of her anytime soon?”

Benji is currently showing off his newest dragon-figurine, Tessa is hunting for a book to get Estelle to read for them while Zoe has pulled the hairband from her aunt’s hair and is trying to braid it.

“You’re probably right.” He grabs a glass of water, then heads off, whistling for Mrs. O’Leary as he leaves the room.

Annabeth turns back to preparing dinner, happy she can do so without the kids being underfoot all the time and finishing prep in half the time because of it. By the time she puts the casserole into the oven, Estelle has read two books and declares she needs a break and something to drink.

She hugs Annabeth upon entering the kitchen and Annabeth realizes with some satisfaction that she’s still taller than her sister-in-law. “It’s good to see you. How was your flight? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to pick you up.”

“It’s alright, I understand. The flight was fine, there was that woman sitting next to me who’s just returning from a world travel tour and she had a bunch of stories to tell. I didn’t get as far with my summer reading as I planned, but that’s fine. I’ve still got time.”

Annabeth hands her a glass of water, takes a short glance at her children who are playing among themselves in the living room. “And what happened then? Percy mentioned you ended up at the Diazes’?”

The voice message she’d gotten on it from Percy didn’t really explain the series of events, and it had gotten Annabeth curious.

“Yeah, I went to the Grants, because that’s the address Percy gave me in advance. And I hung out a bit with Harry. But he wanted to meet up with Denny and Chris later, so I tagged along.”

This faith in the world and in other people is something Estelle gets from her mother, Annabeth knows. Sally is the same: optimistic, believes in the best in people, finds community wherever she goes. But Sally’s softness comes from pain, her desire for peace from abuse and battles fought.

Here’s to hoping Estelle’s softness won’t let her to a bad place one day.

“Did you have fun with them?”

Estelle shrugs. “Yeah. We played video games.”

Alright, then. Nothing more to tell, apparently.

After dinner, and a round of Tessa’s current favourite board game, the kids start getting tired. The twins stop being able to focus on anything, Zoe starts rubbing her eyes, and even Estelle has to suppress a yawn.

Annabeth claps her hands. “Alright. Time for bed.”

There’s the usual protests, but her and Percy have herding their kids to bed down to an art form and quickly have them settled away.

“Daaad! You gotta read us a story!” Benji says when Percy tucks them in. And their son is right, it’s Percy’s turn today. While Percy gets the current book – something with an old woman keeping dinosaurs as pets, because nothing could go wrong with that premise – Annabeth goes to find Estelle in the guest bedroom.

What might half an hour ago have been a neatly packed backpack is now a pile of clothes strewn about the bed, the first few pieces already spilling over onto the floor.

“You missing something?”

Estelle looks up, shakes her head. “No. My pyjamas just were at the very bottom of the stack.” She blindly grabs a fistful of fabric and begins to shove it back into the backpack.

“Estelle.”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you put your clothes into the cupboard instead of having to pull all of them out of the backpack again first thing tomorrow morning?”

The way her gaze darts from Annabeth to the dresser and back practically spells the answer for her. Because I’m too lazy and think that this takes less energy.

“Come on. I’ll help you do it now, then you won’t have to do it tomorrow.”

Estelle lets out a sigh and acquiesces. She turns the backpack onto its head, spilling the remaining contents onto the bed. Estelle starts grabbing underwear, so Annabeth goes for shirts.

“Did you bring any shirts that don’t have either a science pun or a manga character on them?”

“First off, that’s anime, not manga. Secondly, I brought the shirt that says fuck the patriarchy, not the planet. Oh, and one of Percy’s old Camp shirts for bed.”

Annabeth isn’t even surprised.

They get Estelle’s stuff squared away quickly and soon, silence falls over the Jackson residence. Annabeth joins Percy on their living room couch, both of them regarding the chaos around them, neither motivated enough to clean up what will be upended they next day anyway.

“I feel bad that I couldn’t really spend time with Estelle today,” Percy says.

Annabeth lets her head sink onto his shoulder. “I know. But it’s only been her first day here.”

And there are many more to come.

Chapter Text

“How’s your sister doing?” Buck asks as he settles on the sofa next to Percy.

Going by what Chris had said, Estelle had come to the city during one of the larger scenes the 118 in the past year or so, cleaning up a building collapse. Finding the Jackson residence empty, she’d gone to the Grant-/ Nash-household where she’d met Harry and was subsequently dragged along to play video games with Harry, Denny and Chris.

The whole retelling of the afternoon was done with a calm to Buck’s favourite teenager that felt oddly deliberate.

Percy shrugs easily, a smile already stretching over his face at the mention of his sister. “Already regretting that she committed to staying the entire summer, I think. The kids are running her ragged.”

Hen laughs from the other sofa, setting her book down. “I mean, non-stop attention from three kids that age? I feel her.”

“I do, too,” Percy replies, the grin never wavering. “And yet, I committed to that for the rest of my life, so I can’t really complain about it.”

And he doesn’t, is the thing. In the couple of months since Percy has joined the LAFD, Percy has never said a bad word about his children, nor his wife. Has never complained about picking up the kids, never complained about cooking dinner or cleaning the bathroom.

He sometimes jokes that he’s the trophy husband. But he does it with such softness in his face and while being genuinely nothing but complementary towards Annabeth that it doesn’t read as anything but devotion.

“If she wants some company her own age, I think Denny wouldn’t mind hanging out with her again,” Hen suggests. “She seemed to get along alright with him, Chris and Harry. Or did Chris say anything else?”

The last question is directed at Buck. There’d been a time where he’d found it odd, to be asked about another’s kid like that. But this isn’t just any kid. It’s Chris. And anyone at this station knows that Buck is far too involved in the Diaz household to not have talked about it with the kid.

“No, yeah. Totally. I think he’d enjoy hanging out with her again.”

Which might be more than a slight understatement, but whatever. No need to get any fences up over a little teenage crush.

“Sounds good,” Percy nods. “I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow.”

For right now, though, the conversation has to end, because the alarm goes off, shrill and loud.

The address they arrive at is in one of the nicer parts of town, a family home with a pool in the back yard. That’s where they find a frantic woman, holding on to a man in the pool.

Grabbing onto the pool’s edge for dear life, the man looks to be about thirty, generally fit and while trying to play it cool, mildly in distress. Not as in distress as the woman at his side, though. She’s kneeling at the edge of the pool, dripping wet herself, grabbing onto his arms in an iron grip, a phone on speaker with 911 on the line laying next to her.

“What happened here?” Bobby asks, in his best authoritative captain’s voice.

“Oh my god, thank god you’re here! He could have drowned!” The woman scoots over as Hen approaches, doesn’t let go of the man.

The man, meanwhile, rolls his eyes. “I told you there was no need to call 911. It’ll wear off in a minute.”

“It’s been over ten minutes and you still can’t move!”

“Well, maybe, if I had a moment’s peace and quiet, then…”

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Bobby cuts over the squabble. He doesn’t need more than a look and a few motions with his hands and the team scrambles.

Percy heads over to Hen’s side, relieves the hysteric woman from her post of making sure her husband won’t slip into the water. Buck helps her up, walks a few paces further, gives the others space to work. Eddie, still with the back board in one hand, picks up the phone, ends the call with the 911 operator with some basic niceties.

“It’s just a cramp,” dude-bro says. “It’ll pass.”

“You sank,” his wife counters. “You came back from your tour and you jumped into the water, and you didn’t come up for air. I had to jump after you and get you to the surface.”

Buck looks over at Bobby, then picks up a towel lying on a nearby chair. He wraps it around her shoulders, leads her towards the house. “Your husband is in the best hands possible. Why don’t you get changed while my colleagues here make sure he’s alright?”

He flashes her a smile and she nods, leads the way inside.

It doesn’t take long for the woman to get changed, nor for Percy and Eddie to pull her husband out of the pool and put him onto the stretcher. Hen and Chimney head off to get him to the hospital while the rest of the station is called to assist with a fire.

That’s how most of their day goes, one case after another, nothing too interesting, but enough to keep them occupied until they finally make it back to the station and Bobby takes them off rotation for a bit so they can have dinner.

“Did we ever figure out what the guy in the swimming pool had going on earlier today?” Buck asks over pasta with some vegetable sauce and salad. “Because he looked like the kind of person who pays a bit too much attention to his diet. Not like the kind of person to randomly get cramps.”

Buck knows, because Buck had been that person himself, a few years ago. Constantly worried about how much he eats, tracking proteins, and carbs, and all matter of nutrients. Constantly worried about mass percentages of body fat.

Chimney rolls his eyes, in the way he sometimes does when patients are being particularly dense. “He came back from a workout with his bicycle and went straight into the pool. His systems immediately shut down, pulse was fucked, extremities cramped, the whole nine yards.”

“Why would he go for a swim right after having worked out? I get that LA is warm, but you gotta give the body some time to cool down.”

Chimney gestures with his spoon, causing little drops of sauce to fly around. “Well, what do you think? He wanted to impress his girl.”

“Didn’t appear too impressed to me,” Percy mutters.

Hen snorts. “Apparently, they talked about Iron Man triathlons recently and the girlfriend said she didn’t think he could do one and he got it in his head to prove her wrong. You know. Men’s egos and such.”

Carefully sidestepping Hen’s last comment, Eddie focuses on the actual information. “I mean, she’s right. Getting ready for an Iron Man in that short a time frame just doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

Buck shrugs. “Depends on where you’re coming from, I guess. If you start out being in great physical shape, I feel like it could be done.”

“Sure. But there are different kinds of great physical shape, you know? Like, we’re in great shape, but I don’t see you signing up for the Iron Man.”

“I could.”

The words are out of Buck’s mouth before he thinks much about them. And he believes it, too. He’s in great shape. He does a lot of fitness, he runs a bunch. Sure, these days, his bike is more a decorative object than something he actually uses for sport, but whenever he actually gets it off the wall, he loves doing tours through the countryside. Swimming has never been his strong suit, but with some kind of training for technique, it’s mostly muscles and endurance, too, right?

“Sure you could,” Chimney says in that tone that is somewhere between placating and goading.

The look on Eddie’s face is less goading and more doubtful. It rankles Buck even more. Bobby looks vaguely amused but not about to step into the conversation while Hen mutters something about male egos and focuses on her dinner.

Buck turns to Percy. “You believe me, right? That I could do the LA Iron Man and finish it?”

Percy shrugs. “I’m honestly not too sure about the distances on that. But sure. If you think so, I believe in you.”

“It’s 2.4 miles of swimming, 112 miles on the bike and 26 miles running,” Buck provides easily. He’d seen a documentary about extreme sports competitions a while back.

Percy seems to think it over for a bit. “I’ll be honest with you, the 112 miles on a bike might be a challenge for me. But the other two sound doable.”

“What? Biking is the best part about this. Swimming is way worse. Running sucks a bit because you do it last, but swimming is definitely worse than the bike.”

“I like swimming.”

“And I like biking.”

“I could show you proper technique, then you’ll love swimming.”

Buck ponders the suggestion. “If you show me swimming technique, I’ll show you some good tours for the bike.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Percy agrees, easily smiling back.

“I won’t pull either of you out of a pool if you get cramps from overdoing it with this,” Hen comments flatly. Which is a bold-faced lie.

Chim frowns at Percy. “Aren’t you doing martial arts workouts with Eddie every two weeks?”

Right.

Eddie had bemoaned the fact that they didn’t manage to schedule a regular meet-up more often but they had ultimately landed on the intermittent Thursdays where the basketball-group doesn’t meet.

Eddie had come back from the first few sparring sessions with Percy sweaty and beaming. Buck had only been happy that this didn’t cut into their time together. Didn’t feel that spike of jealousy he never quite managed to fight down back when it was Tommy Eddie was working out with.

“I can have more than one friend I work out with,” Percy shoots back.

And yeah, there might be some scheduling they’d have to do around each other’s priorities, but they’ll work it out.

Buck is honestly looking forwards to this.

They don’t really make any plans that evening. There is some gentle ribbing as they clean away the plates, but by the time they settle into their bunks the topic has already shifted.

Percy is listening to some kind of audio book or podcast, it seems. He’s got earbuds in and Buck can just make out the even voice of something being read. He mentioned a while back that he often prefers screen readers to reading himself, as his dyslexia makes that hard. Plus, he can listen to texts being read to him while doing other things, such as brushing his teeth.

Hen, Eddie and Chim are reading something on their phones.

Just as Buck settles onto his bed, Percy gets up. “I need to call my mom,” he says. “Looks like she misses me.” He probably got a text from her. Must be nice, to have a mother who cares.

With Percy out of the room, Buck turns towards his other co-workers.

“What are you reading?”

Hen doesn’t even look up from her screen. “Column this woman writes for the New York Times. Didn’t Eddie send you the link?”

“I had assumed someone from the pick-up-line at Chris’ school gave it to you already,” Eddie admits, already tapping away on his phone.

A moment later, Buck’s own phone vibrates with an incoming message.

And because apparently, they’re a book club for one parenting column in particular now (not that he’s complaining), Buck clicks the link and starts reading.

What’s in a name?

                    By Sally Blofis

I have been called a mother hen quite a few times in my life by quite a few people – including my husband, my son Blue, my daughter Sage, and many many others.

Most of them, I think, even meant it as a compliment.

I never felt like a mother hen. But now Sage is off for the summer and for the first time in way over a decade, I don’t have one of my babies living under my roof.

And I feel it.

Sneaking up on me with feathers and clucking and picking at grains.

The empty nest syndrome.

Maybe I’m a mother hen, after all. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s just the way I love my children. Maybe I’m thinking about calling Blue and asking him how he’s doing but I don’t want to crowd them because maybe they need some space from me. The chicks are learning to fly and leaving the nest behind with the mother hen.

Names are funny like that, aren’t they?

They give meaning to things, context, life.

Mother hen. Early bird. Night owl. Firecracker.

Blue. Sage.

Back when I first started this column, I had long talks with my husband, with my kids, with my editor. We talked about a lot of things, but mainly about privacy. I talk a lot about my life in this column, about my family. I asked them, they are alright with it. If at any time, they feel uncomfortable with what I write, I’ll stop.

But back then, it hadn’t been about stopping, it had been about getting started and about not using my children’s names in a column that’s published nationwide. It had been about coming up with fitting aliases for the people I love the most.

To this day, I haven’t bestowed an alias onto my husband. Whenever I write about him, I simply refer to him as my husband.

Sitting down and figuring out an alias for my kids wasn’t the first time I had to come up with names for them. It felt daunting, nonetheless.

My son had already been a man when I started this column. Already married and making his way in the world. “You’ll forever be my baby,” I told him when he started going into the world on his own. I still tell him, once in a while. He still makes the same scrunched-up face he did when he was twelve.

I thought about referring to him as my Forever-Baby, in my column, my FirstBorn, my FB. My editor blushed furiously as explained to me why I shouldn’t do that.

How was I supposed to know that? Fearing any other missteps, we decided acronyms to be off the table. So, back to the drawing board it was.

I came home after that particular meeting to my son dancing through my kitchen while he listened to songs older than himself and baking cupcakes. Still humming to the song blaring from his speakers, he turned to grin at me, the tilt of his head asking without words how my meeting with the editor had been.

I’m just about to tell him that I still don’t have an alias to use for him for the column when the refrain hits. It prompts the man who is a full head taller than me and who will always be my baby to burst out into song.

And suddenly, I know the answer to the question I’d been struggling with all week.

I’m not as good a singer as him. But what I don’t bring in pitch, I make up in enthusiasm.

I’m Blue, Da ba dee da ba di...

Chapter Text

The doorbell rings and before Karen can even get up from the couch, Mara has already flown out of her room and halfway across the living room, throwing open the door half a moment later.

“Grammy!”

Antonia Wilson has all her granddaughter’s joy but none of the exuberant energy as she greets the girl. “How’s my favourite granddaughter?”

Mara giggles into their hug. “I’m your only granddaughter,” she stresses.

“Well, that just proves my point.” Toni manages to manoeuvrer herself and the four foot nothing kid attached to her hip into the house and close the door behind her. “Hello, Karen.”

“Hi, Toni. You alright?”

There might be lingering tension between the two of them, but they mostly manage to put it aside. They’re adults, and for the kids (and for her wife), Karen doesn’t bring up all the misgivings she has against her mother in law every time she has the opportunity.

“Same old, same old. Yourself?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Good,” Toni echoes, then turns back to Mara. “Are you all packed?”

Mara nods eagerly, then vanishes to her room to get her bag.

“You sure you want to take her for the night?” Karen asks.

Toni smiles at her, scoffs in that put-upon theatrical way she sometimes has. “Of course. Sleepover at Grammy’s. I’ve been promising her for weeks. You could still come, if you want.” The last sentence isn’t directed at Karen, but at Denny. The teenager (and since when doesn’t Karen have to look down to look at him?) crosses over from the kitchen, hugs his grandma.

“Maybe next time. I’m going out tonight. There’s a science slam on the campus we want to see.” Denny has been talking about it for a couple of days, ever since Chris had sent him the link and asked if they’d go together.

Toni smiles at him, ruffles his hair. “Next time, then.”

“I’ve got everything. We can go,” Mara declares, backpack over her shoulders and her favourite stuffed animal in her hand.

Karen hugs her daughter tight before she lets Toni bustle off with her. They’re going to have a great time, Karen knows it. Still, it’s always hard to let her kid go after they’d had to fight so hard for her.

Tonight it’s a good thing, though, Karen supposes. Having seen the signs on the wall of having a child-free evening, Hen had instigated a wine night. Even though they never really insisted on having an occasion for having a wine night, they don’t have them often enough.

“When are you and Chris headed off?”

“Not sure yet,” Denny replies, glued to his phone. “We were planning on taking the bus there and then uber home later. But the schedule isn’t great. Chris says it might be easier if his dad brings him here and we get to the bus together.”

There’s a part of Karen that wants to help, wants to offer solutions, wants to offer to drive the kids herself. But they’re old enough to make plans on their own, old enough to ask for help if they need it.

Old enough to have a driver’s licence themselves, too, at least as far as Denny is concerned. But so far, her son hasn’t voiced much interest in getting behind the wheel himself and Hen and Karen had agreed they wouldn’t push the issue.

Karen gets back to the magazine she’s been reading until Denny pipes up again. “Can I grab Percy’s number from your phone?”

“Sure. It’s in the kitchen.” Don’t pry. He’ll tell you if he wants to. Don’t pry, don’t pry, don’t pry…

“Thanks. Chris suggested we ask Estelle if she wants to come with. But neither of us has her number.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love that.”

Karen isn’t actually sure what Percy’s sister would like, never having met the girl. But her showing up in the city about a week ago seems to have brought some motion into the well-trodden path that is Denny and Chris’ friendship. Karen just hopes it doesn’t end with hurt feelings on either side.

Inviting Estelle to join the boys for the science slam turns out to solve their transportation issues.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Karen asks Annabeth an hour later.

Annabeth just shrugs. “Yeah, why not? She’s sixteen, she’s got her licence, my insurance covers it.” She says it like there’s nothing to it, like it doesn’t even occur to her to second-guess her decision to hand her company car over to a sixteen-year-old girl so she can go to a college function with two boys she’d met six days ago.

“She’s never driven in LA before,” Karen cautions. LA is one hell of a big city. Getting turned around is easy enough, even for people used to the area.

Annabeth just shrugs. “No. But she learned how to drive in New York. I’m sure she’ll manage. And the boys can help her navigate, right?”

Chris looks a bit too star-struck to be much of any assistance, to be honest. But Denny smiles at Karen as he passes her on the way to the door. “It’ll be alright, mom. We’ll be careful.” He presses a kiss to her cheek – something he rarely does, usually to appease her, and then they’re gone.

“When I was that age and wanted a car to go anywhere but school or to drive my sisters somewhere, it always was a huge discussion with my mom and a lecture on being careful,” Eddie says. “And that was in El Paso.”

“Well, at least you were getting a car to use that age,” Hen comments, breaking out the wine now that the kids are gone. “I didn’t even get my licence until after High School.”

Athena is pulling glasses out of the cupboard and handing them over to Hen to be filled. “My parents didn’t much mind if I took the car as long as it was back unscratched and in time for my father to go to work or my mother to go to church.”

They all know that Karen’s own parents are a touchy subject she doesn’t much like talking about. So, in the pending lull in conversation, everyone turns to Annabeth to pitch in.

She leans against the back of the couch as she shrugs. “My dad always believed that I was capable of doing whatever I set my mind to and didn’t think that he could stop me either way. So, it was more a logistical thing with him than an ideological one.”

It sounds rather complicated, Annabeth’s relationship to her father.

“What about your mother?” Athena asks.

Annabeth looks at the sergeant for a long minute. When she does, her words come out slow and measured. “My mother had the highest expectations of me and I constantly was letting her down. She didn’t care if I drove a car or not. She would haven given me the keys to a tank if she’d thought it might help me reach her goals.”

The following break in conversation takes longer, is heavier than the first. It’s only broken when the doorbell rings, heralding Maddie’s arrival.

“Sorry I’m late. There was a situation in Boyle Heights that I helped coordinate and which took longer than expected,” the 9-1-1 operator says to the room at large as Karen lets her in.

Immediately, the statement rouses attention from Hen, Eddie and Athena. You can take the first responders out of an emergency, but you can’t take the emergency response out of a first responder.

Nonetheless, it’s Annabeth who jumps in. “The underground car park collapse?”

“Yeah. How did you know about it?” Maddie asks, hanging up her purse and gladly accepting the glass of wine Hen offers her.

“Got a call about it on my way home. We’ve got a construction site on that same block and people were asking about safe ways in via neighbouring buildings.”

Which does seem to make sense to Karen, but Athena seems surprised by it. “Why do you get calls about something like that?”

Annabeth smiles at Hen in thanks as she accepts her own glass of wine. “Because it was half past six and whenever people can’t reach whoever they’re trying to reach, they have to make a decision weather they call up the ladder or down. Today, as it happened, they decided going up would yield faster results.”

Maddie, taking a sip of wine and smiling in relief after a stressful day, leans against the couch next to the blonde. “Wait, are you with W.Inc.?”

Annabeth nods. “Yeah, why?”

“Because they’re the second largest construction company in the city. We interface with them a bunch for emergencies. Gotten a lot easier to communicate with your lot in the past few months, too. Whatever is happening at that place?” There’s genuine curiosity in her tone.

“Switching around some of the personnel, restructuring hierarchies that weren’t working and all that. But let’s talk about something else. I’ve been in the office for almost ten hours today and would like to talk about something else than restructuring procedures and budget planning.”

So they change topics. They usually don’t talk too much about work on these nights, even though the odd anecdote tends to sneak its way in. Karen is glad for the reprieve. She loves her wife and loves the family they have within the 118. But she enjoys talking about other topics, too.

So, they chat about their kids, which is always a source of both joy and strife. They talk about the new yard work Athena is planning, about Jee-Yun’s upcoming birthday, about Eddie’s lack of a love life, about Annabeth missing New York.

Karen likes Annabeth, likes having her around. Being an engineer amidst first responders, she often finds herself in different patterns of thinking, catches herself short of making science puns as she would with her college friends.

But then, Maddie finishes her latest story about Jee, and looks around the group expectantly. “So, what else is new?”

Without missing a beat, Annabeth replies “Poisson’s Ratio!”

Karen snorts. Everyone else just looks at Annabeth in question.

“Possion’s Ratio describes the deformation of a material under load. It’s symbol is the Greek letter Nu, which sounds like new…” Beginning to squirm under the blank-faced looks, she waves away the attention. “Nothing.”

As Eddie picks up the thread by talking about his abuela’s latest remodelling attempt, Karen nudges Annabeth’s foot with her own, grins at her in recognition of the pun. Annabeth smiles back and they move on.

“Anyone else need a top-up?” Hen asks, opening what might be their third or fourth bottle of wine.

Annabeth considers her glass. “Mine’s only half empty.”

“And here I was, thinking you’re a glass-half-full kind of person,” Maddie grins.

“Well, I’m an engineer, so I’m actually a the-glass-is-currently-dimensioned-with-a-safety-of-two kind of person.”

“What?”

Karen is feeling the effects of the alcohol and is glad that she won’t need to leave the house to get to her bed later. “If you think about it, the glass is entirely full. Fifty percent wine, fifty percent air.”

Annabeth cackles, clinks their glasses together. “Here, here.”

By the time Annabeth’s car is pulling up in front of the house, Karen can barely remember when she’d last laughed this much. None of her friends are stupid, she very well knows that. But there’s something different about being able to volley with someone who knows how to parry her remarks, who appreciates her puns. Even drunk on too much wine, Annabeth is quick with a comeback every time and Karen simply adores the younger woman.

The light beams crossing over the living room furniture makes all of them turn towards the nearest clock. It’s become late.

Even though being the last to arrive, Maddie is the first to rise. “I think I should get home. Howie and I are both off shift tomorrow and wanted to do a day at the park.” She’s a young mother, and even if she wasn’t, they all get that a halfway decent sleep schedule is worth a lot.

Heaven knows most of the people in their lives don’t get that luxury.

“Yeah. Chris is probably gonna pass out before we even get home,” Eddie agrees, standing up and starting to collect the empty wine glasses they’d been holding without any interest in refilling them. “Wanna share an Uber?”

While Maddie and Eddie head over to the kitchen to sort out logistics of getting home, Annabeth turns to Athena. “We can drop you off at yours, if you’d like.”

“You’re not driving.” It’s not a question, the way Athena says it. It’s a fact. They’ve all had too much wine to be safe behind a wheel tonight.

Annabeth shakes her head. “No. Estelle is.”

Athena seems to think about it for a moment, weighs getting in the car with a sixteen year old she doesn’t know against calling Bobby to pick her up. Finally, she nods. “In that case, sure.”

Denny, Chris and Estelle enter the room to half a dozen wine-drunk and loose-limbed adults cleaning up after a night of talking.

“Did you have a fun evening?” Denny asks as he gamely allows Karen to hug him.

She pats his head, runs her hand along his shoulder. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question? How was the science slam?”

Denny smiles up at her, relaxed and genuine. “It was fun.”

“Good. That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.”

She’s sure she’s gonna hear a lot more about it in the morning, in the following days. But for now, Karen says goodbye to her friends, watches as they shuffle out of the house, as cars take off.

“Me, too,” she says, somewhat belatedly, as Denny passes her on the way to his room. “I had a fun night, too.”

Chapter Text

The chopper lifts into the air under the steady beating of the four-winged rotor. Barely the flick of a wrist is needed to tip it forwards and have it pick up speed. Tilting the nose right, they fly in an arch until they're pointed for a straight flight home - to Harbour Station.

It's a nice day to be out flying, even though the weather isn’t the easiest. The sky is bright, a few fluffy cumulous clouds dotting the all-encompassing blue. The winds pushing in from the Pacific give a valiant attempt to push them off course. But it's nothing a trained pilot with a good helicopter couldn't handle with ease.

He'd flown into a hurricane once, after all, and lived to tell the tale.

Tommy blindly makes a grab for his bag. Before he can reach it, his sunglasses are already pressed into his palm.

"Thanks."

"No worries."

Elle leans back in her seat, closes her eyes against the midday sun beating through the front window. His partner on this flight has twice his years on the LAFD, three times the engagements with straight partners before realising that's just not how she swings and half the hair on her head. This week, the shortly cut curls are a poisonous green - matching the pride sticker on her phone.

They'd picked up a still beating heart in a bag just over an hour ago to deliver to a hospital in Santa Clarita to save a young man's life. There and back, easy enough. They dropped the organ off without incident, but hadn’t lingered or any news. It’s not their job to follow up on what happens afterwards.

Tommy likes flying with Elle. An outstanding pilot herself, she still prefers sitting on the passengers seat, keeping an eye on the cargo. She'd been in med school, once upon a time, always volunteers herself happily for anything medical.

Being a pilot for emergency situations - especially in a city as large as LA - you learn quickly how to focus on what is important. Which means that it isn't a case of the radio crackling to life, but rather Tommy's attention snapping to as his call sign is mentioned.

“LAFD helicopter 16-71, come in for dispatch.”

Opening the channel to reply is little more than muscle memory. “16-71 for dispatch, listening.”

“We are in need of an airlift out of La Tuna Canyon Park. You’re the closest by a wide margin. Are you able to assist?”

Tommy does his due diligence, lets his gaze trail over the instruments, makes sure they have enough fuel for the detour. He looks at Elle, who doesn’t even open her eyes, but shrugs in a way that says “We’ve got nothing else to do, nowhere else to be.”

“Positive. What are the coordinates?”

The voice at the other end of his line tells him a string of numbers and Tommy reroutes west. “I’m patching you through to the team on the ground,” comes the almost-friendly sign-off. “Out to you.”

There is some static over the line, a click, then the comms go clear and silent again.

“This is Kinard with LAFD Air Operations. Heard you need an up-and-out. We’ll be on location in four minutes. What’s your status?”

The silence down the line goes on for long enough that Tommy’s hand automatically goes to his dashboard, fiddles with the squelch, as if it hadn’t been tuned earlier today already.

When a voice finally does come over the line, it’s familiar. “This is Captain 118. Good to have you on board with this, Tommy.”

The 118. Of course.

Well, it had only been a matter of time, he’d known that.

“Happy to assist, Bobby. What’s your damage?”

Elle, wonder of wonders, has opened her eyes, watches Tommy with furrowed brows as he talks. She’s got her headset on, gets both sides of the conversation.

“Hiker fell down a cliff, broke at least an arm and a leg. He’s stable and responsive. Before we could pull him out, the cliff started giving and we had to pull back with the ladder truck. One of our own is still with her. Safe, but we can’t get there.”

Coming around the side of the canyon, the bright red engine and the ladder truck next to it are easy to spot. They’re both parked a respectable distance to the edge of the cliff. Jagged edges tell a story of recently broken off chunks of earth and stone.

Buck had told him – back when they’d still been speaking to each other, back when they’d been doing a lot of things they aren’t, any more – about a case somewhat similar to this, where the ground had broken away and they had ended up loosing their ladder truck. It’s good to see that people might learn from their mistakes.

Elle is the one who spots their human cargo first, pointing down the cliff-side as she does. “Over there.” A bit down the cliff, not quite out of shouting distance to the team, but out of reach for the ladder truck are two people: one in a chequered shirt and jeans shorts lying on a stretcher, the other standing right next to her in full LAFD getup.

Elle rids herself of her seatbelt, starts to ready the winch. There isn’t much need for talking between the two of them. They both know what needs to be done, and they do it without superfluous chatter.

“Who am I taking on board?” Tommy asks.

Because this is his job, and he can be professional. But if he’s going to take Buck on board, or Eddie, he’d like a minute to prepare for the awkward flight laying ahead.

“The new guy,” Bobby says, his voice light. “I don’t think you would have met. Percy Jackson.”

So, no awkward silences, no sneers of contempt, no snide remarks. But also, no soft smiles, or gentle blushes or those long lashes fluttering over blue blue eyes.

“Roger that.”

Maybe he isn’t being fair. Maybe Eddie would have been perfectly polite to him. (But then again, Eddie has never been one to forgive and forget. And Tommy did break his best friend’s heart.)

And Buck probably wouldn’t have fluttered his lashes at him, wouldn’t have joked about the good old times. (But then again, Buck has never been good at staying mad at people.)

Either way speculation isn’t of much use. And so, Tommy manoeuvrers the chopper into position with the ease of routine, gives Elle the go-ahead to start the rescue.

The hiker is whimpering when Elle pulls her into the copper, every movement agitating her injuries. The fire fighter climbing into the chopper behind her might not be Eddie or Buck, but does very much fit into the line-up of hot men working at the 118.

His black hair is sticking in every which direction, probably due to the fact that he just pulled off his helmet. His jacket is open, revealing a standard LAFD-shirt stretching over a wide chest. He manages a smile as he comes on board, but doesn’t look too happy to be there.

Ellen waves him past. “You go sit in the front. I’ve got your patient.”

Jackson easily does what he’s told, apparently glad to have one less thing to worry about. He climbs through the seats to sit next to Tommy, manages another weak smile. “Thanks for the lift.”

Tommy smiles back at him, wide and open and just a little bit charming. “No worries. It’s our job.” He opens the comm line to talk to Bobby. “Got them on board, both stable and well. We’ll drop them off at Cedars-Sinai.”

“Thanks for the assist. Have a safe flight.”

“Wilco. We’ll try our best. Over and out.” Tommy changes his frequency back to the open channel, announces his flight path to the appropriate authorities.

Once they’re on course to the hospital, he blindly reaches over into the glove compartment. It takes some patting around before he finds what he’s looking for.

Jackson still looks rather pale but puts on the headset that is handed to him.

“Are you alright? Because if you’re gonna puke, we’ve got bags in the back.”

The question results in a smile that seems just a tad more genuine than the ones before, and a shake of the head. “I’m not gonna puke. But I’m a fair bit terrified of flying.”

“It’s your job to run into burning buildings, but this is what makes you scared?” For Tommy, flying had always been freedom, joy.

He doesn’t get much more than a shrug in reply. On the back seats, Elle is chatting with their patient, assessing injuries, managing morale.

The flight to the hospital only takes the matter of minutes and by the time he’s setting the chopper down on the landing pad, nurses are already waiting for them so they can take charge of the patient.

The flutter of activity ends as fast as it begun and finally, it’s just Tommy, Elle and Jackson next to the chopper with lazily swinging rotors.

Elle meets his gaze. “What do you think? Do we have a couple of minutes?”

This is the second case they’ve flown back to back, they’re due for a break back at harbour, anyway. Chatter on the comm line has been rather idle, as well, no imminent waves of cases incoming.

“If I have to clear the landing pad and you’re not back, I’m leaving you behind.”

It goes without saying and wouldn’t be the first time, either. But Elle just gives him a small smile, taps two fingers to her temple in a mock salute and vanishes through the door that swallowed their patient and her entourage a minute ago. Her nephew is a nurse in the maternity ward and when an opportunity to see him presents itself, Ellen tends to take it.

Back on solid ground, Jackson doesn’t look as pale any more, his smile lighter and easier. “Thanks. For picking us up and not crashing while we were on board.”

“This is my job, you know?” Tommy says, can’t help the laugh that escapes with the words. “I actually know what I’m doing.”

Jackson shrugs, the heavy jacket on his shoulders flapping in the wind as he does. “Never said you didn’t. I just…” He takes a look at the sky, a wry smile forming on his face. “Sometimes, it just feels like someone up there has it out for me.”

Which is pretty much the opposite of the sentiment Tommy usually gets from people believing in someone up there. But Jackson doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave, taking off his jacket and tossing it on the back seat as he leans against the chopper.

“You religious?”

Jackson actually snorts at the question. “No. I’m Percy.” He pauses for a second, cocks his head in consideration. “Shit. I don’t think I introduced myself earlier. I’m Percy Jackson.”

“No worries, you had your head elsewhere. Plus, Bobby told me over radio before we picked you up. I’m Tommy, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”

They shake hands, but as Percy pulls back, Tommy spots something on his lower arm. “You got a tattoo?” He asks, before he can stop the words from leaving his mouth.

Percy turns his wrist, bares his forearm, considers the ink there as if he’d half forgotten about it, himself. It’s simple, black. The letters SPQR, three lines, and a stylized trident. It jogs a memory, somewhere in the back of Tommy’s mind. A memory half forgotten, pushed aside over the course of years.

“Yeah. Why? Recognize the design?” The question feels leading, the way he says it, probing in the way the silence lingers in the seconds after.

Tommy takes a breath, allows himself to take a closer look. “I guess so. My mom had one like it, I think. Same placement, same style.”

The memory is decades old, him poking at his mother’s arm while she kissed his forehead and ran a hand through his hair. “One day, you too might have a tattoo such as this,” she had told him. But then his father had come home and his mother had been quick to pull down her sleeve. The man of the household didn’t much like seeing it.

“My mom’s had five lines, though, not three. And no trident, either. She had a caduceus, I think.”

They’re first responders, both. The caduceus is used by most professional health care institutions in the country. Hell, there’s even a good chance of finding the same symbol somewhere within the building they’re standing on.

Tommy doesn’t have to explain to Percy what a caduceus is.

When the younger man only looks at him as if in deep consideration, he finds himself elaborating, nonetheless. “The staff with the two snakes.”

“Martha and George,” Percy says, seemingly without thinking about it. Then, “What happened to your mother? If I may ask.”

“She left when I was a child.” Tommy doesn’t like talking about it, hasn’t talked about it in years. But he still hears his parents’ shouting like it was yesterday, still remembers doors being slammed and things being thrown. Can replay the scene frame for frame as his mother packed her bags while his father was still screaming at her. He could recite word or word her plea for Tommy to go with her. If he had any artistic talent, he could paint from memory the look on her face as she realized he’d stay with his father.

Tommy had been a child, had been afraid to loose his friends by leaving with his mother. He hadn’t realized the repercussions. Hadn’t thought he’d never see her again.

Years later, when he went off to college and rummaged through the attic for another suitcase, he’d found the letters. Hundreds of them, addressed to Tommy. Addressed, but never delivered to him. Not rightfully delivered, but opened, nonetheless.

He doesn’t remember much of the shouting match he’d had with his father that night.

He remembers the headache after he stayed awake most of the night reading the letters and then crying himself to sleep as dawn was creeping up on him.

But the last letter had been two years old by then, the return address vacated, no sign of his mother.

“I haven’t seen her in thirty years.” The words sound hollow, even to his own ears.

Percy’s voice sounds stronger, in comparison, but full of compassion. “Would you want to?”

Would he want to? Would he want to see his mother again, after all these years? Is she even still alive? Where has she been all those years, what has she done with her life, has she found a better life after leaving his father?

Has she missed him as he’d missed her?

Going by the stack of letters still hidden away in his garage, Tommy thinks he might know the answer to that last question, at least.

“I tried finding her, a few years back,” he admits. He doesn’t quite know why he is talking to Percy about it if he hasn’t talked about it with practically anyone else. He hadn’t talked about this with Buck, had barely talked about it with Abby. “When I got engaged. I wanted to invite her to the wedding. But there was nothing. No trail to follow.”

Percy taps a finger against the ink on his arm. “These tattoos are… a symbol of community. Even if you weren’t able to find her, I might be.” And maybe this is why Tommy feels able to talk about it with Percy. Because in thirty years, this tattoo on his arm is the first tangible connection to Tommy’s mother he’d come across.

“She might be dead,” Tommy parries. He shouldn’t get his hopes up. Even if she’s still alive, the odds of Percy finding her are abysmally slim. Even if, forty or fifty years ago, she’d belonged to the same group as Percy does now.

Percy nods. “She might be.”

The moment stretches between them as they watch a flock of pigeons take flight, startled by the noise of an incoming ambulance.

“But either way, it would be nice knowing,” Tommy finally admits.

“I can’t make any promises.”

Tommy already knew that. They’re both in jobs where making promises very firmly isn’t a done thing.

“Except that I’ll try my best to find out about her what I can.”

He should say thank you. He should take it back, tell this virtual stranger not to put himself out on Tommy’s account. Should do anything except standing here and looking at a flock of birds.

Before any words come to him, though, the door swings open and Elle rushes to meet them. “Come on, Kinard, off we go. Cap called, he wants us back at harbour.”

And the moment is broken, Tommy clapping Percy on the shoulder and sliding into his seat to get them ready for lift-off.

Percy immediately pushes off the chopper, grabs his jacket and helmet as he clears space for the chopper to take off. He looks from Tommy to Elle, to the chopper and back to Tommy, like he’s putting something together.

Elle slides into the seat next to Tommy, the rotors picking up speed.

“Kinard? Oh, you’re Buck’s Tommy,” are the last words he can make out before the whooshing of the rotors and the chatter over the radio blocks out any further words.

Tommy wonders if he’s ever gonna hear back.

Chapter Text

“I’ve got a question that might feel a bit out of left field.”

Eddie pauses with his towel halfway up to his face, looks at Percy. When Buck has questions out of left field, he can usually track their trajectory, can suss out where they came from, wich grain of information sparked the way they went.

With Percy, it’s different.

Even when he doesn’t announce it, it sometimes feels like he doesn’t only come out of left field but from a different plane of existence altogether.

“You’re good at those,” Eddie tells him, wipes off his sweat, drinks some water. “Alright. Shoot.”

“Do you happen to know Tommy Kinard’s mother’s maiden name?”

The water goes down the wrong pipe, causing Percy to pat his back until his airways are clear once again. “What?”

“Do you know Tommy…”

Eddie interrupts him. “No, no. I got you the first time. But why?”

“Well, Chim mentioned you and Tommy were friends before him and Buck broke up. I thought asking you might be less awkward than asking Buck.” There is a sincerity to Percy’s face, a curiosity that feels at odds with the current conversation. At odds with the current topic.

But then again, Percy hadn’t been there for the whole Tommy-thing. He hadn’t been in that chopper, facing down a hurricane to get to a capsized ship. He hadn’t been there for the beginnings of his and Eddie’s friendship, nor the oddly jealous reaction Buck had to it. He hadn’t been there for the beginning of Buck of Tommy’s relationship, has no way of knowing that Eddies friendship with the pilot pretty much ended with the beginning of the romantic relationship he’d had with Buck, not with the end. But most of all, Percy hadn’t been there for the end of the relationship, hadn’t been there to console a golden retriever with a broken heart asking once again if he’s worth being loved. As if the answer to that could ever be anything else than a resounding “yes”.

“Yeah, no, I get that. But why do you want to know?”

“You remember he picked up myself and that patient from the ledge last week?” Eddie nods. How could he forget, if he’d had Buck on his couch not an hour after shift ended, talking about if it would have been better or worse had he been the one left behind with the patient instead of Percy. Had it been Buck in that chopper with Tommy at the end of the day instead of their newest member. “And we got to talking, and I wanted to look something up.”

Eddie honestly hears more about Tommy Kinard than he really wants to. So he might be curious as to what exactly they talked about, but he won’t ask. “Sorry, no idea. That never came up.”

Percy shrugs, like it’s not a big deal, takes another sip of water. “Another round?”

Eddie takes a deep breath, nods, and follows him back onto the mat.

Sparring with Percy is… a challenge.

Eddie is used to having rules in fight, to having a pre-agreed on set of attacks and parries. He’s used to Muai Thai, to sticking to forms.

Percy does none of that.

He punches when he feels like punching, grabs when he feels like grabbing, kicks when he feels like kicking. He spins and he jumps and he crouches to get a better angle. There is a rhythm to his fighting, but no pre-set order of motions.

It’s not even like Eddie has never fought Mix Martial Arts before, like he can’t borrow from other schools.

But he’s far from the ease and the fluidity with which Percy moves from one form to the next.

Eddie throws a punch, but it does little more than glance off of Percy’s forearm. He tries to grapple, but Percy is already two steps further. He starts a series of kicks, Percy retreating step by step, kick for kick. The last one however, Percy doesn’t evade. He throws up an arm (disregarding of the fact that blocking kicks is rarely recommended), throwing Eddie off balance and into the defensive.

Percy’s attacks are ruthless, and almost faster than Eddie can follow. He throws up block after block, getting sloppy with them and lucky that Percy doesn’t take the time to simply push through them. He ducks under a hit that would have gone to his shoulder, turns around to reply with a kick just to find Percy closer than anticipated. Eddie is still this side of unbalanced from his spin, so when Percy swipes his ankle and shoves an elbow into his shoulder, Eddie falls.

He falls, but he doesn’t crash to the ground.

Percy catches him before he hits the mat, lowers him to the ground with swift decisiveness, but without letting any harm come to him.

Despite what his fighting skills might let one believe, Percy has a very soft touch. Most of their sparring matches end with Percy half guiding Eddie down to the ground or with Percy lightly tapping where a full punch should have landed.

It almost makes it more infuriating, that he is so good, but never seems to do anything with it. Combine Percy’s swiftness and preciseness with any kind of ferociousness and he’d be one heck of a fighter.

The days of earning money in fight clubs is safely behind Eddie, so are his days in the military. But he can appreciate a good fighter when he sees one, can bemoan talent going to waste once in a while.

Eddie lets himself be thrown onto the mat three more times (maybe “lets himself” isn’t quite the right way to put it, but whatever…) before he calls the training session to an end.

“You think the kids are back yet?” He asks as they’re winding down, emptying the bottle of water he’d brought.

Percy looks at his watch, then shakes his head. “Probably not. The twins have been insisting on tortellini for a while, and Essie hates the texture, so she’ll probably use the excuse to get take-out for dinner somewhere. And probably drag Chris along.”

When Chris had announced he’d like to accompany his father to the Jackson residence for Eddie and Percy’s bi-weekly sparring session, Eddie had been surprised. The surprise had been short-lived, though, once Estelle’s name had fallen.

“She mentioned wanting to look at some street art when we were out for the science slam. But she doesn’t know the city, so I offered showing her,” Chris had said, smile a little timid, blush high on his cheeks.

How very altruistic of him.

But Eddie had swallowed the teasing reply, not wanting to put Chris on the defensive and in a bad mood. He’d agreed, instead, had taken the boy with him to Percy’s place and had then promptly been forgotten by his own son in favour of a girl.

Maybe he should be more upset about that. But then again, had he been that much different, once upon a time, with Shannon?

Percy catches one of the twins rushing towards him – Eddie still can’t tell them apart - and continues into the kitchen where he fills two glasses with water and hands one over to Eddie. “Are you staying for dinner or should I tell Estelle to bring Chris to your place whenever they’re done?”

Buck is babysitting Yee tonight and if Chris is having dinner with Estelle, Eddie won’t make the effort to cook for himself – he’s self-aware enough to know that. Tortellini sound great, Percy’s cooking skills are amazing, but he can’t just invite himself over to dinner like that.

On the other hand, asking for Estelle to drive Chris all the way across the city doesn’t sit right with him, either.

“I wouldn’t want to impose…” Percy hasn’t even asked Annabeth if it would be right to invite him to stay for dinner.

Percy waves the concern away. “You’re not imposing. I’m offering.”

Lured in by grown-ups in the kitchen, the second twin shows up, too. And now that they’re standing next to each other (standing might be a generous term. Jumping. Chattering. Bustling around. Existing.), Eddie is almost sure that the one in the green shirt is Tessa, which means that the one in the orange shirt is Benji. He’s quite sure. Mostly. About 60%.

Sure enough that he’ll stop thinking about it, but not so sure as that he’d actually try to address them by name.

“Dad! What’s for dinner?”

“Dad! When’s mom gonna come home?”

“What does hyper… hypro… hypocrisy mean?”

“When can we visit grandma? I miss her.”

Percy holds up both hands and wonder of wonders, the twins fall silent. “We’re having tortellini. Your mom should be here within the hour, provided that nothing happens at work to keep her there. Hypocrisy means something like lying or doing something under false pretences. I don’t know, I’ll talk to her about it, alright?” The kids nod. “Now, who’s gonna help me make dinner?”

They’re magic words, apparently, able to make two children disappear from a room. Percy looks after his kids, playing in the living room and squealing in delight before turning back to Eddie. “So, you staying for dinner? I really could use the company. Seeing as my own children have abandoned me.” He says the last part louder, loud enough to be heard in the adjourning living room. The twins unsuccessfully try to stifle their laughter.

The thing is that Eddie really doesn’t have an excuse to leave, nor does he actually want to.

Percy is good company, he’s fun in a quick and sarcastic way, and it’s nice to have someone to talk about parenting with who will just as happily discuss basketball.

He’s not Buck, but Eddie is still so very glad to have him in their lives.

“Are we going to wait for Annabeth?” Eddie asks half an hour later, as all they have left to do for dinner is throwing the tortellini into the bubbling pot of water.

Percy is already doing exactly that, answering the question without needing to say anything. “She texted me earlier. Something came up at work.”

It’s something Eddie has heard a couple of times, now. Percy excusing himself early from team events, rushing off after a shift to look after the kids, arriving late to get togethers. With the amount of things coming up at work for Annabeth, Eddie hopes her superiors appreciate her dedication.

(He hopes, too, that problems at work are really all that’s going on. He knows some people are quick with baseless accusations, and he wouldn’t put voice to thoughts without any kind of proof. It’s just that “Honey, something came up at work” is an excuse used far and wide for any manner of reasons.)

But that’s not Eddie’s issue to worry about. Instead, he helps Percy corral his children to the table, fills up glasses, hands out plates.

Zoe smiles thinly at him, then starts a signed conversation with Benji.

Annabeth arrives home just as they’re starting clean-up. She tosses her bag onto the couch and sinks against Percy for a hug. “What a month this week has been,” she grumbles.

Percy presses a kiss into her hair. “It’s Monday.”

It’s not. It’s actually Thursday, but something about the reply makes Annabeth huff out a tired laugh.

“The idiot who calls himself my boss whenever the opportunity presents itself but never does anything even remotely useful realized I actually took the “communicating with headquarters”-portion of the job seriously. Now he’s pissed and trying to make it look like Gina and I colluded in corporal espionage to make himself save face.” The words come up in a mumbled rush into Percy’s shoulder.

“Who’s Gina?”

Annabeth turns her head to look at Eddie. “Oh, hi Eddie.” Back to Percy. “Did I know Eddie was coming for dinner? I did not know Eddie was coming for dinner. Doesn’t matter. Did you leave any for me?” She goes around to press kisses into her children’s hair, Tessa ducking away at the attempt and breaking out into giggles when Annabeth catches her.

“Aren’t we missing a kid? Where’s Estelle?”

Percy nods over at Eddie while going into the kitchen to fix a plate of dinner for his wife. “Off with Chris. Should be back soon, though.”

Annabeth turns a considering gaze onto Eddie. “Do we need to have a talk about this?”

Eddie can’t help but fiddle with his glass, her stormy grey eyes making him nervous the second they’re trained on him. “With each other or with our respective teenagers?”

Her smile softens Annabeth’s face. “Both, I guess. Either.”

Before Eddie comes up with a way of saying “yes, I do think my kid has a crush on your sister, but no need to be mad about it”, Percy comes back, setting a plate and cutlery down before Annabeth.

“It’s fine, Wise Girl. Remember what we were up to at that age. They’ll be fine.”

Annabeth picks up her fork, starts eating. “I remember very well, that’s part of why I’m concerned. Or did you forget the part where both of us vanished from our parent’s life without notice?” She asks between forkfuls of pasta. “Plus, those are Estelle’s talking points. You don’t have to repeat them for her.”

Percy looks ready to argue, but at that time, the front door swings open once again. This time, it’s not an exhausted architect entering the space, but two giggling teenagers.

With the conversation cut short for now, Eddie wonders if the topic is over or just put on pause. But Percy didn’t seem to find it prudent to talk about it and Annabeth might forget it with everything she has going on at work.

The next day at work, neither Percy nor Eddie bring it up. They chat about the upcoming basketball game until Buck shows up and treats them all to pictures of Yee with dragon face paint.

The alarm calls them out first to a car accident, then a panic attack mistaken for a heart attack and as they’re on their way back from that, to a bar fight.

On scene, they find two police officers have already taken charge of the situation. While Bobby goes to talk to the older of the officers, the younger is corralling a man in one corner of the room. Maybe in his mid-twenties, the guy has short-chopped hair, and an angry snarl on his face. He’s glaring over at a man and woman – siblings, going by the same curly black hair and short nose – who are sitting on the floor half-way between the bar and the exit.

The woman is sobbing, her hands shaking as she presses them against her brother’s bleeding side.

Not waiting for Bobby to finish his conversation with the officer in charge, the 118 swarms in, takes action. Hen and Chimney sink down on either side of the siblings, talking in soothing yet firm tones. Percy helps Chimney lead the sister away while Eddie lends a helping pair of hands to Hen as she takes stock of the knife wound in their patient’s side.

With half an ear, Eddie listens as the woman tells the story of her last few weeks to Chimney between sobs. How she had been in an abusive relationship and finally found the courage to run away, to run to the safest place she knows, to run to her brother. How they’d gone out for her brother’s birthday for a drink and her ex had found them, yelled at them, attacked them.

The motions to help Hen slow the bleeding come with the ease of years of practice, his focus sliding more and more towards Chimney and the woman. Because the story is bad enough on its own. But having Chim be the one to console her, after everything that had happened with Maddie and Doug? They might have to do some damage control of their own, at the end of the day.

Eddie is so focussed on the situation around Chimney that he notices the struggle going on only a few feet further too late.

The abusive ex, apparently seeing the signs on the wall and going for one last hail Mary knocks his elbow into the cop’s head, making him stumble backwards a few paces before regaining his composure. Those few seconds are enough for him to find his prey and charge towards Eddie, Hen, and the injured brother.

Eddie, crouching on the ground and using both hands to stem the flow of blood, freezes for a moment.

Percy, at the other side of the room, doesn’t.

Just as the ex winds up for a kick that might be aimed at either the brother or at Hen, Percy comes in with a flying tackle.

To say there is a brief struggle would be an insult to the instantaneousness with which Percy nails him to the ground.

His movements are all the speed and precision Eddie is used to from their sparring sessions, but there is none of the care, none of the consideration, none of the concern he shows during practice.

This is pure competence, channelled into ruthlessness.

The young cop comes stumbling over, apologizing in bumbling words even as he’s thanking Percy for the intervention. Percy makes very sure the guy won’t start any other funny business before letting go.

He doesn’t go back to join Chimney at the side of the startled woman, instead he goes outside to help Buck with the stretcher.

“What?” Percy asks as they’re back in the engine, finally on their way to the station for dinner and hopefully a few hours of sleep.

Eddie doesn’t really know what emotions have shown on his face, but he knows what’s been on his mind. “I feel like you’ve been holding out on me.”

Percy snorts, thoroughly unimpressed. “What, you want me to be rougher to you when I’m throwing you around?”

Buck chokes at the phrasing.

Eddie shrugs. “Well, I just feel like you haven’t been giving it your all.”

Which is kind of terrifying, if he thinks about it. Because even going easy on Eddie, Percy doesn’t loose. Because even with Percy being kind and considerate, Eddie hasn’t won a single sparring match.

“I’m not sure you could handle my all.”

Neither is Eddie. But he’s curious to find out.

The next time they spar, Eddie comes back home littered with bruises.

Percy still evades half of his punches. But when he blocks them, it’s not the harmless redirection of force. He puts up a block, and he holds firm. It’s like hitting a wall.

Eddie still manages to throw up a counter for most attacks Percy throws at him. But instead of going on to the next move, Percy will sometimes just push through them, like he’s wrestling with one of the twins, not a grown and trained adult.

Percy still makes sure Eddie doesn’t hurt himself when thrown, makes sure he doesn’t dislocate anything or injure himself in any other way. But he’ll happily watch as all breath leaves his lungs in a rush at a kick, as he squirms against a hold, as he smarts under oncoming punches.

Eddie still doesn’t think Percy is giving it his all. But he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to withstand it, anyway.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure this is alright with Maddie?”

Margaret Buckley looks at the man she married, the man she loves, and gets out of the car.

“Why wouldn’t it be alright? Maddie and Howard know we’re coming, they invited us.”

Phillip gets out of the car, too, grabs his coat from the back seat while Margaret grabs the presents. “She did, but the party is supposed to start in over an hour.”

“Yes, but what use is there for us to just sit around the hotel for an hour when we can arrive early and get some time with the birthday girl before everyone else shows up?” Making sure she has everything she needs, Margaret closes the door, starts walking up the small path to her daughter’s house. “I’m sure she could use a helping hand.”

She rings the doorbell, and the sound is immediately followed by the sound of running feet. The door is pulled open with exuberant enthusiasm and Margaret can finally look down at her granddaughter’s smiling face.

“Grandma! Grandpa!”

Yee-Jun throws herself at Margaret, hugs her around the waist. Margaret pats her head, hands quite too full to properly engage the child. “Hello, Yee-Jun. How good to see you.”

The girl toothily smiles up at her before making room for Margaret to enter the house while the girl greets her grandfather.

The living room looks the same as ever, with some added clutter Maddie must not have found the time to put away yet. From the kitchen wafts the smell of cake.

Also coming over from the kitchen is the woman of the household. Maddie looks tired already, like the preparations for her daughter’s birthday have worn on her. She’s wearing an apron, hair up in a messy bun.

It’s not the kind of look Margaret would choose to greet guests, but she knows that the younger generation is a bit more casual about things like that.

“Mom. Dad. Good to see you. You’re here early.”

Margaret smiles at her daughter, knowing all too well the effort it takes to make a house a home. “Well, there was little traffic. And we thought why wait in the hotel when we could instead spend time with you?”

“You could have called.” Maddie’s smile looks thin.

Phillip pulls their daughter into a brief hug. “We wanted to surprise the birthday girl.”

Yee giggles in delight, beaming and wiggling where she’s latched onto Phillip’s hand. Maddie doesn’t look half as enthusiastic. She closes the door.

They greet Howard – coming in from the garden in a washed-out shirt and sweatpants while Maddie goes on to check on the muffins in the oven.

Margaret had of course offered to bring cake, but Maddie had refused – making her stress-bake in the last minutes, apparently. Saying so now, however, would only earn her curt replies and annoyed looks, Margaret unfortunately knows. So, she refrains from commenting.

“Can I do anything to help?” she asks instead. God knows she would have liked a pair of helping hands back when she’d been setting up children’s birthday parties.

Maddie makes a dismissive gesture. “It’s fine. Why don’t you head to the living room with Yee and dad, while Howie and I do the rest of the prep?”

If decades of being married have taught Margaret anything, it’s that there’s some tasks better left to the women of the family. She’s just about to suggest her helping Maddie while Howard joins Phillip and Yee-Jun in the living room, when her daughter’s husband nods with a smile on his face.

“That’s a great idea,” he immediately jumps in on Maddie’s side. “I think Yee would love to see what you got her for her birthday.”

And alright, if that’s the way Maddie and Howard want to do this, who is Margaret to argue? Especially if her only granddaughter starts jumping up and down in excitement at the prospect of presents.

Yee-Jun is a bright girl, happy and grinning widely as she tears through the packing of her presents. Her smile is the same as Maddie’s had been at that age, even if as the girl grew into a woman, a lot of that happiness had vanished.

It’s with that happiness of youth that Yee-Jun now sits in between her grandparents on the couch while they read to her from the book they’d gotten her.

(The book had actually been the only thing they bought from the list of suggestions Maddie had sent them a month ago. Margaret had never much liked puzzles herself and heartily doubts Yee-Jun would do them if not pressed to. Nonetheless, there were three on the list. And the games suggested seemed superfluous. They’d decided on the book, plus some new clothes and a pair of shoes, instead. Sensible choices, things that are useful.)

Their granddaughter had apparently read the previous books from the series already and is listening intently as her grandparents are reading to her, eager fingers pointing out the characters in the little artworks littered around the pages.

They’re halfway through the book when the door swings open without the doorbell having rung beforehand.

A broad back shoulders through the opening, while a familiar voice shouts a happy “Knock, knock” into the room.

“Who’s there,” comes Howard’s answer, hurrying over from the kitchen already to greet their new guest.

As soon as Yee-Jun sets sight on the newcomer, she abandons her grandparents, launching herself off the couch and running for the door. “Uncle Buck! Uncle Buck!”

The girl launches herself into Evan’s arms, the casserole dish in his hand wobbling dangerously as he catches her and throws her over his shoulder.

“Hello, fellow adults,” Buck says, a grin on his face that makes him look so much like Daniel. “Has anyone seen Yee? I could swear I heard her voice just now.”

Yee, hanging off his back, giggles, tries to kick her feet. Evan ignores her attempts to get off his shoulders, instead smiles at his approaching sister.

Maddie ignores the impediment her daughter is in, takes the casserole off her brother, rewards him with a sideways hug. “30 minutes at 380° F,” he tells her.

Maddie nods. “I’ll put it in after the last batch of muffins is done.”

Evan turns, then, to face his parents. He must have forgotten the precarious state his niece is in on his shoulder, the girl squeaking as he makes a sudden movement. “Hello mom, dad. How was your flight?”

“Evan. Let the poor girl down.”

For a moment, Evan looks ready to argue, but ultimately comes to a sensible decision. With an elaborate movement that has Yee-Jun shrieking, he twirls her around and sets her safely onto her own two feet.

“Hello, Evan,” Phillip says, getting up from the sofa to shake his hand. “The flight was fine, thank you. How are you doing?”

Their relationship is overly stilted, ever since Maddie decided to share the whole Daniel issue with her brother. It hadn’t been her place, but Margaret is well aware that one should let bygones be bygones.

Before Evan can answer this most basic of attempts of small-talk, Yee-Jun is poking his hip. “Did you bring me a present?”

Making big eyes at her, Evan scratches his neck. “A present? Why would I have brought you a present?”

“Uncle Buck! It’s my birthday!” Yee says with all the exasperation of a six year old.

“Is it?” He asks, playing up the part far more than needed as he meets Maddie’s eyes over Yee’s head. Maddie just smiles, nods, and points towards the back yard, mouthing something Margaret doesn’t catch. Evan returns the smile, then turns his attention back on his niece. “Well, if it’s your birthday, you should of course get a present. Should we see if we find something?”

Yee-Jun giggles as she takes his hand and lets herself be lead out to the garden.

Margaret stands and joins her daughter in the kitchen.

“He dropped her present off a few days ago because he wasn’t sure if he’d have a good time transporting it while also having to deal with the casserole,” Maddie explains. “He’s gotten her a bicycle.”

“That wasn’t on the list,” Margaret remarks. She’d read the list, after all. Had there been a bicycle on it, she might have gotten it, herself. Although it might have been hard to transport on the plane.

Maddie looks at her for a long moment, eyebrows raised. “No,” she says slowly. “Because we’d been talking for months about it and Buck said he’d buy it for her.”

Maddie takes care not to clench her teeth too much, makes sure the calm smile and collected voice she uses at her job stay firmly in place. She swaps the last batch of muffins for the casserole Buck brought while her mother natters on about how it’s impolite of Evan to monopolize Yee’s time as soon as he showed up.

Like there’s any way for Buck to enter the house without his niece throwing himself at him. Like Uncle Buck isn’t one of her favourite people. (Like the girl’s grandparents aren’t little more than strangers to her.)

The doorbell rings and when Howie goes to open it, the Wilson family spills inside. Mara hugs Howie for a long moment before bustling on, Danny accepts a good-natured pat on the back, Karen her hug and Hen the monologue about the half-day Howie had spent with B-shift the day before.

Eddie and Chris arrive soon after – Maddie is a bit surprised the teenager decided to join them, but ultimately is happy about it.

Bobby and Athena arrive with Harry in tow. Josh shows up alone, with a colourfully packed present in hand.

Yee grins at the face of every newcomer, squeals in delight at every present. When she asks when the twins will be there, Maddie can only shrug. “I don’t know. But Percy said they’d be here, so I’m sure it’ll be soon.”

To wait for them would mean the muffins would get cold and the casserole would get dry, so they sing Happy Birthday and Yee blows out the candles and they get to the food.

People spill out onto the patio, the kids running around shouting and playing, while the adults try to make conversation to the side. Harry, Denny and Chris command the couch in the living room, neither part of the children nor the adults.

Maddie’s parents sit out on the patio, as far away from the centre of activity as they can. They talk with Bobby and Josh, the former bound by his never-ending sense of hospitality, the later trying to get away from the kids.

Maddie is glad he’d come, at all.

Sometimes it feels like her entire social circle consists of the 118, of the people her husband and brother are closest to. It’s nice, to have at least one person here who’s her friend, when all is said and done.

The Jacksons arrive over an hour late and a person short.

While the twins run to greet Yee-Jun and Zoe goes to play with Mara, Estelle joins the other teenagers on the couch. Percy lets out a long breath, hands the pizza bread he’d promised for the buffet over and gives Maddie a half-hug in greeting.

“I’m sorry we’re late. Annabeth sends her regrets, but she had to get to headquarters for an important meeting on short notice and couldn’t make it.”

“Headquarters?” Maddie asks, grabbing a slice of the bread and sampling it before the hoard of hungry children can get their hands on it. “Thought that’s in New York.”

“Exactly. And then Benji had a little meltdown that he couldn’t go with her to visit my mom and then Zoe decided to just hide away in the basement because she couldn’t take his screaming, meanwhile Tessa ate so much of the dough for the bread that she got a tummy ache, so we had to wait for that to pass.” He makes a vague motion to the basket in Maddie’s hand. “That should have been two loaves, but that would have thrown us back another hour, at least.”

Maddie looks at Yee, happy as can be, playing with two of her best friends, and can’t for the life of her find a reason to be mad at Percy for any of it. “It’s fine,” she says and means it. “Important thing is you’re here now.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

The way Percy says it, she actually believes him.

She gets how this guy got integrated into the 118 so quickly, how he formed friendships in the matter of mere months and weeks. He’s earnest, and he’s kind, he loves his children and the people around him and they love him in return.

If it’s not Yee asking for another playdate with the twins, it’s Howie telling a story from work or Buck heading off early to go work out in preparation for their Iron Man. It’s Annabeth during Wine nights and Zoe on the Wilsons’ dinner table doing home work in companionable silence with Mara sitting next to her.

Here and now, it’s Buck, coming up to throw an arm around Percy. “Come outside for a moment. The kids found a beetle and we aren’t sure which kind and Tessa says you might know.”

“Just because my five-year-old thinks I’m all-knowing doesn’t mean I actually am,” is the last thing Maddie hears from him before he vanishes.

Maddie looks around at the people she loves.

Only four of them might be related to her by blood, but they all feel like family.

The young man who appears in the back yard on Evan’s hand is not someone Margaret Buckley has seen before today. He is tall and black-haired and all too happy to be dragged through the Hans’ backyard to look at some insect.

Whatever Evan had going on with the firefighter showing up at the hospital during Maddie’s wedding seems to be over. That’s of course not something her son or even her daughter had seen fit to inform her of – the information had rather come from the things not said, the blanks not filled in.

She’d prefer if she wouldn’t meet her son’s companions at the parties her daughter throws. But she might not meet them at all, otherwise. And she does want to meet them.

Evan might never have said anything about it to her, but Margaret Buckley is a modern woman. She knows what “bisexual” means. One of the families down the street has a bisexual daughter. Margaret doesn’t mind. She’s fine with it, it’s not like it’s any of her business.

It’s just that when it’s Evan… It’s not like she begrudges him his experiments – heavens know he got into a habit of attention seeking by bad decisions as a kid – it’s just that she doesn’t think such a relationship would make him happy, in the long run. After all, one day, in the not too far future, Evan will come to the realization that he’s at a certain age, that he should settle down and make a family.

And, well, purely from a biological standpoint, that won’t be possible with another man.

It’s somewhat surprising, in any case, when the newcomer, after fawning over whatever vermin the kids had found in the grass, comes over to their table. He pats Captain Nash on the shoulder in an all-too familiar way, grins at the man’s wife. “Hey there, ‘Thena. You alright?”

Sargent Grant’s smile is quick to surface. “Always am.”

“Josh. Long time no see. How are things going with what’s-his-name?” The newcomer drops into the empty seat next to Maddie’s co-worker, leans back in a way that looks so relaxed it swings over to looking forced.

“Brian. And they aren’t going anymore.”

Josh, too, receives a pat on the shoulder, then the newcomer turns to face Margaret and Phillip. “You must be Buck and Maddie’s parents,” he says, offering his hand first to Margaret, then to her husband. “Nice to meet you. I’m Percy Jackson.”

His handshake is firm and short, the smile firmly in place.

Over the next half hour or so, Margaret has to admit that Percy Jackson is a nice man. He easily answers questions, chats with Josh when Sargent Grant gets into a discussion with Phillip about air-plane safety.

It also becomes clear that he isn’t involved with Evan, after all. He drops little mentions here and there about his wife, about their children. It’s better, that way, Margaret knows. If Evan isn’t with another man and on top of that forced to raise children not his own. Children he didn’t want.

It’s not something she’d wish upon anyone.

At some point, Howard joins them, squeezing in next to Percy with a platter of food.

“If I don’t get away from them for a bit, they’ll never actually let me have dinner,” her son-in-law says with a laugh in his voice before he begins wolfing down his food.

Margaret is talking about spice gardens with Captain Nash – who, for a man, has an astonishing amount of opinions on cooking – when Percy gets up with his phone in hand. “Gotta take this, sorry,” he says, stepping away and accepting the call.

Just checking out of a conversation is supremely impolite, and Margaret finds herself looking after him, wondering who he’s talking to. It turns out, however, that she wouldn’t have had to wonder about it, for a few minutes later, he returns, phone still in hand, call still connected. “Hey, Chim. My buddy Kasem is in the city on a surprise visit. Would you mind if he swings by?”

Howard, just finished with the last of his meal, shrugs. “We’ve got too much food, anyways. Have him come over.”

Percy grins in thanks, goes back to his call. When he returns a few minutes later, his phone is back in his pocket, and he returns to his conversation with Josh.

Margaret tries to listen to Captain Nash’s opinion on weather or not lavender belongs in a spice garden.

The sound of the doorbell is surprising and just loud enough to cut over the noise of the children playing in the living room. “Kids, why don’t you go outside for a bit?” Maddie suggests, catching a frisbee before it can knock her in the head. “And you know the rules, Tessa. No throwing things inside the house.”

“Didn’t throw it. I kicked it.” The child looks far too proud about that loophole.

Maddie meets her gaze plainly, waits for the girl to pay attention. “Do you think that reasoning would pass with your mother?”

For a few seconds, Tessa holds her gaze. Then, she jumps up, sprints towards the doorway. “Last one outside is a stupid yak,” she shouts, snatching the frisbee from Maddie’s hand in passing her. Immediately, Yee and Benji give chase. Mara and Zoe follow at a more sedate pace – with their superior age and wisdom, such chases are obviously beneath them.

The man in front of Maddie’s doorway is a stranger.

A handsome stranger, about Maddie’s age or maybe a few years older, with a lavender button down and dark jeans, brown skin and a backpack slung over one shoulder. But a stranger nonetheless.

“Hello,” Maddie says, slowly, carefully. “Can I help you?”

He gets even more handsome when he smiles. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m Kasem. I’m looking for Percy Jackson.” His voice is soft and smooth and Maddie makes a living out of listening to strangers’ voices.

But she won’t let anyone inside her home who she doesn’t know, if they haven’t been okayed by someone she trusts. Just because he knows Percy is here, doesn’t mean he’s a friend.

Maddie is still looking for the right words to shut the door in this stranger’s face when there’s a shuffling from behind her as Estelle gets up from between Harry and Chris.

With a confused tilt to her head but a smile around her eyes, she comes over, steps around Maddie to see the man outside. When she does, she immediately launches herself into a hug. Kasem catches her, smile immediately widening into a grin as toned arms close around the teenager’s back to twirl her around.

Maddie takes a moment to make eye contact with Harry, to motion for him to get Percy.

“Essie, look at how tall you’ve become. When did you grow like that?”

Estelle, finally with both feet back on solid ground, punches him lightly in the shoulder. “Sometime in the past two years, I suppose.” Her voice turns softer, more vulnerable. “You stopped visiting.”

Faced with the fact that he disappointed a child he’s obviously fond of, Kasem’s face scrunches up. “I know. And I’m sorry. I had stuff to deal with.”

“Everyone always does.”

This feels private. Maddie isn’t quite sure if she should be here for this conversation. But at the same time, there is no way she’s leaving Estelle alone with a handsome stranger appearing at her door unannounced.

Steps from the back door announce Percy’s presence.

Behind him, Josh has sneaked inside, too. With the kids now playing outside, Maddie is hardly surprised her friend is coming indoors. Always where the mayhem isn’t. For all that he’s great in a pinch at work, Josh could really stand to invite more adventure into his personal life.

“Maddie, I’m sorry. I talked to Chimney about Kasem dropping by, but I didn’t think he’d be here so early. I would have told you before.” The words come out before Percy can even see around the door to spot his friend, and Maddie feels something in her relax.

She might never be good with surprise visitors. But if the people in her life deem him safe, she’ll invite the man in.

The hug Percy and Kasem exchange in greeting is one of those manly ones, with a lot of back slapping and jostling. When they separate, a stiffness Maddie hadn’t noticed in Kasem’s shoulders before, relaxes.

“It’s good to see you. Sorry to drop in on you on short notice.”

“Nonsense. You’re family.”

Maddie opens the door wide, makes an inviting gesture. “Come on in, then. There’s food in the kitchen, drinks in the fridge, make yourself at home.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t. First I drop in on you and then I eat your food? I couldn’t.”

Maddie shakes her head. “Nonsense. We’ve got way too much, anyway. Plus, if Percy says you’re family, you’re family.”

“She has no idea what kind of family she just adopted, does she?” Kasem asks Percy in a lowered voice as Maddie heads over to the kitchen to help Josh rummage through the fridge for another lemonade.

She doesn’t catch Percy’s answer, because next thing she knows, Yee is demanding her attention.

Back when Margaret hosted get-togethers like this, back when Daniel and Maddie were at the age Yee-Jun is now, there wasn’t as much shouting going on. The family would come together for a sophisticated sit-down around a table, so that everyone could enjoy a piece of cake and a cup of coffee.

But today had the children running around the garden shouting at each other.

The children have become more, some time between cutting the cake and the noise being relocated to the previously peaceful yard. There’s a set of twins, though Margaret couldn’t for the life of her tell if they’re boys or girls. A girl somewhere in primary school age is the only one to not run around screaming at all times, sitting calmly to the side whenever Mara heads off to play with the others.

The man Percy leads outside must be the friend he’d announced half an hour before. The twins run to greet him and even the quiet one gets up from he perch to bump her fist against his.

Percy introduces him as Kasem, rattles off everyone else’s names.

“And this is our birthday girl, Yee-Jun,” he ends.

Kasem drops to one knee, gets onto eye level with the girl. While the gesture might be commendable, it’s hardly worth the grass stains due to linger in the jeans.

“I didn’t know that today’s your birthday, so I didn’t buy you a gift,” he says. “But if you want, I could show you a magic trick.”

What follows next is a set of advanced, if at heart basic so-called magic tricks, vanishing a coin, making it re-appear behind someone’s ear. He’s good at it, admittedly, Margaret can’t follow the coin herself, half of the time. The kids seem delighted but still eventually grow bored, deciding to get back to running and screaming.

Percy and Kasem come over to the table Margaret, Phillip and the Nashes are sitting at. Percy reclaims his seat while doing general introductions, Kasem taking the seat Howard had left empty.

“Captain Bobby Nash is my captain at the fire house, with his wife Sargent Athena Grant. And these are Maddie and Buck’s parents.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Kasem tells the captain.

Captain Nash, quick to smile at any time, grins at the words. “Only good things, I hope.”

“Only the truth,” Percy shoots back with a wink.

Captain Nash laughs. “Well, there goes that hope. Where do the two of you know each other from, then? You don’t sound like you’re from New York.”

Kasem laughs. “Nah, West Coast, born and raised. Quite a bit further up north, though. Spent the better part of the past decade in San Francisco.”

“He does social work, building networks, getting people back onto their feet,” Percy supplies. “When I dropped out of college, I worked with him for a couple of years before returning to New York.”

By the time the party winds down, the sky is already darkening. Margaret and Phillip have said their goodbyes to their conversation partners of the evening already and are finally able to catch their daughter.

“Thanks for coming,” she says, with a tired smile on a tired face that makes her look older than she is. “I know Yee really appreciated it.”

Not that the girl showed much of that once Evan had shown up. But that’s a conversation for another day, the effect the girl’s uncle has on her. The way he treats her. The way he throws her around, handles her like a sack of flour.

“Certainly. After all, she’s our only granddaughter.” It’s not supposed to be a reprimand, but the way Maddie sucks air into her lungs heralds a rebuttal. Margaret hastens to continue on. “And we love her very much, and are always happy to see her.”

Phillip puts a hand on her shoulder. “We should leave.”

“Yes, we should. Have a great rest of the night.”

They exchange a few last pleasantries, then they’re off. In the car, Margaret turns to her husband. “We did well with them, didn’t we?” Their children have jobs and friends and partners and even though there are some things Margaret thinks they could have done different, she is satisfied with where her two children are in life.

She just wishes all Daniel had made it there, too.

The door closes behind her parents and Maddie lets out a sigh of relief.

“You’re the one who insisted on inviting them,” Buck tells her, not unkindly.

Maddie shrugs and goes to help Howie load the dishwasher. “I know. Doesn’t change the fact that they’re exhausting.”

The party has wound down considerably.

Eddie has a shift to take tomorrow and had taken a sulking Chris with him. Maddie wonders if there is anything going on between Chris and Estelle. Going by the way Chris had looked at the girl all afternoon, she wouldn’t put it past them. But at the same time, Estelle looks at Chris the same way she looks at Harry, or Denny, or even Mara and Yee-Jun – with fondness, that is to say, but nothing more.

The Grants had left next, Athena with a similar reasoning to Eddie’s. It’s a small wonder they all had time off to come in the first place. It’s busy work, keeping the city safe.

The Wilsons had taken Bobby and Athena’s exit as a sign and taken their leave, as well, with many hugs and promises to go to the beach together soon.

Josh, with a reasoning quite opposite from Eddie and Athena, had offered to leave with the rest, and half-invited himself for clean-up and a glass of wine in the process. “My sleep schedule is so far out of order, I won’t be going to bed for hours, anyway.” Maddie suspects that his wanting to stay has for once less to do with her company and more to do with the handsome stranger sitting on the couch with a sleeping Tessa in his arms.

Percy had made no less than three attempts to coral his children into leaving, only to be met with vehement refusal, loudest of all from Yee. And as he couldn’t disappoint the birthday girl, he’s now carrying empty glasses to the kitchen while his kids are all in different stages of dead asleep.

Zoe is sitting at the dinner table, headphones over her ears. The strokes she uses to colour a drawing are slow and sluggish. Benji is cuddled against Yee, a blanket half-drawn over them. Maddie has already made a picture and sent it to Percy. Tessa is clonked out in Kasem’s lap. Estelle is sitting next to Kasem, eyes drooping as he tells her a story.

Aside from them, it’s only Buck, up to his elbows in dish water as he scrubs the parts that can’t go inside the dishwasher. They clean in companionable silence, Kasem’s voice a steady murmuring filling the house.

By the time that’s done, they settle in around the living room with one last drink for the night.

“You seemed agitated, when you showed up,” Percy is sitting next to Estelle, her head immediately drooping onto his shoulder. He looks over her head at Kasem. “Is everything alright?”

The man hadn’t seemed agitated at all to Maddie. Had seemed like the perfect picture of calm. But then again, she doesn’t actually know the man. Next to her, she can feel Josh getting interested in the conversation that might reveal more about the gorgeous man of unknown relationship status and orientation.

Kasem runs a hand through Tessa’s hair, light snores emanating form her. “So, I went through some of Jeff’s old stuff…”

Percy frowns. “Oh, we’re back to calling him by his name, now? ‘Cause last I checked, he was still the scumbag who cheated on you.” His voice is deliberately calm, as to not unsettle the children. Not even Zoe looks over from the dining room table.

“Yeah, well. Turns out he’s upgraded to the scumbag who not only cheated on me but also embezzled money form my non-profit.”

“He didn’t,” Percy says, horror clear in his voice. Tessa stirs, Zoe tilts her head, Estelle frowns, not yet quite asleep.

“He did.” The cheer on Kasem is so pitchy, not even Jee would buy it. The children settle once more. “And when I realized that, I needed to come here and externalize my impulse control.”

“Externalize your impulse control?” Josh echoes, entirely too fascinated by the man.

Kasem nods over to the sleeping children. “Looking at them and reminding myself that murder is ten to life and that would mean I couldn’t see them growing up.”

“You do realize all adults in this room are mandatory reporters, right?” Buck asks, but his words have no weight to them.

When he shrugs, Kasem is careful not to wake Tessa with the motion. “Percy would cover up a murder for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Let’s go with a decisive ‘no’, so we can at least plead plausible deniability.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Kasem yawns. “If I help you get them to the car, do I get to sleep on your couch?” He motions to the kids strewn around the room.

Percy drains the rest of his water, nods. “Annabeth is out of the house, you could just take the other side of the bed.”

“I could, but you’re like an octopus in your sleep – nothing but limbs.”

“I like octopuses.”

“I know you do.”

If you love somebody...

                       By Sally Blofis

I love my children.

I’ve mentioned that before, right? Somewhere, as an aside, between anecdotes and complaints, I left behind crumbs for people to guess at the fact that I do, in fact, love my children.

With all my heart.

I love them when they wake me up in the middle of the night, I love them when they have a shouting match across our flat, I love them when they forget their sandwiches in their school bags and the lunch-box ends up so full of mold I have to throw away the whole thing without even attempting to open it.

That is not to say that I always like all the decisions they make.

Be it eating too much ice cream before dinner and scorning my vegetable lasagna, be it taking a trip to Europe without letting me say good-bye beforehand, be it choosing the pink curtains over the green ones or ending fights other people started.

Be it that Blue apparently decided there’s nothing untoward going on and sending Sage to a sleepover with a bunch of teenaged boys her age. Whatever could go wrong?

I have a very imaginative brain. There’s a lot that could go wrong: STDs, aggravated assault, abductions, death, pregnancy.

But looking at the list of worst-case scenarios, I realize that I’ve been through most of them with Blue at one point or the other. And he seems fine. So Sage will be, too, right?

After all, my very imaginative brain can paint the pretty pictures, too: Friendships for life, weddings, eventual pregnancies, happiness that lasts.

The rational part of my brain tells me that the truth will fall somewhere in between.

There is little use, after all, in wondering about the future, when there’s one thing I know for certain about the past: I raised both my children to be kind, and compassionate, to stand up for themselves and others.

I know that if they ever need help, they’ll go to their friends, or anyone of that extended family Blue forged around us.

I know that I love them.

For now, I think that should be enough.

(After all, what else can I do that I haven’t done before?)