The world had turned gray.
It wasn't that the sun stopped shining, or that the sky had darkened. Outwardly, everything looked the same as it always had.
The streets of New York still bustled with noise, people rushed past each other, cars honked, and life went on.
But to Percy Jackson, it was all just... Nothing. Noise without meaning. A colorless and empty world.
Ever since Theo had vanished from the face of the earth, leaving behind nothing but empty air and a hole in reality that no magic could fill, something inside Percy had simply... shut down.
His soul felt as if it had been torn right out of his chest.
He moved, breathed, and walked, but it was only because his body remembered how.
Inside, he was hollow. A husk. The strength that had once let him hold up the sky, that had let him fight gods and monsters without flinching, had drained away like water slipping through cupped hands.
He hadn't been defeated by some great mythical beast. No god had struck him down, no curse had claimed him.
He had been undone by one person, an extraordinary, irreplaceable boy.
Without even realizing it, Theo had become one of the most important people in his life.
And now that he was gone, Percy was just an empty shell, drifting wherever someone guided him.
Annabeth had tried everything.
She'd spoken to him, reasoned with him, sat beside him for hours in silence. She'd held his hand, told him stories of their adventures, coaxed him to eat, urged him to rest.
She'd even swallowed her pride and begged the gods, though she hated doing it, for any kind of help or explanation.
But nothing reached him. Percy was there physically, but his mind and heart were miles away, trapped in the moment Theo had disappeared, replaying it over and over again.
Desperate, her own heart aching and breaking a little more every day she saw him like this, Annabeth finally did the only thing left she could think of.
She called Sally Jackson.
As soon as Sally heard her voice, heard the quiet tears and the trembling fear in Annabeth's tone, she knew.
She packed a bag before she even hung up the call, her mother instinct screaming that something terrible had happened to her boy.
When she saw Percy standing beside Annabeth at the curb, looking taller than ever but so terribly small inside, her heart ache.
That bright, confident spark that always lived in his sea-green eyes, the one that made him Percy, was gone.
He stared at nothing, his shoulders slumped, his face empty and unreadable.
"Bring him inside, dear," Sally had said softly, opening the door of her apartment wide. "Thank you for bringing him home. He'll stay with me for now."
Annabeth helped him inside, guiding him gently to the sofa, making sure he sat down safely.
She lingered by the door, her gray eyes swimming with tears she refused to let fall, looking at the boy she loved more than anything, who looked at her and didn't really see her.
She knelt down in front of him for a moment, her hands trembling as she reached out and touched his cold cheek.
Her voice was thick, barely a whisper and raw with pain.
"It's hurting me," she said, her voice cracking, "that even I, your girlfriend... can't fix your broken self."
All defiance and pride had left her. She only wanted her Seaweed Brain back.
She swallowed hard, biting her lip, holding herself together with everything she had.
'Were all of their years together, all of their memories, not enough to heal him? Could months with someone matter more than everything we've shared since we were twelve?'
A boy that he only knows for a while made him so... Broken.
A boy he'd known only a short time had made him so... broken completely.
She leaned closer, pressing a soft, desperate kiss to his forehead.
"Percy... I'm hurting too," she whispered, her voice shaking with every word. "Please... please come back to me, Seaweed Brain. I don't know how to do this without you."
Percy didn't respond. He just sat there, eyes fixed on some invisible point in the room, completely detached.
Annabeth stayed a moment longer, memorizing his face, then stood up slowly.
She looked at Sally, and the two women shared a look of quiet understanding.
Annabeth nodded faintly, stepped out into the hallway, and closed the door softly behind her.
Silence settled over the apartment.
Percy remained exactly where he was, sitting stiffly on the sofa, his hands resting limply on his knees, his gaze fixed on nowhere.
Looking for someone he'd lost and listening for a voice that he would never hear again.
He looked like a statue carved from stone, beautiful but utterly lifeless.
Sally stood across the room for a long moment, just watching him, her heart shattering inside her chest.
She had seen her son brave gods, battle monsters, face horrors no child should ever know.
He had always stood tall, always fought back, always kept that kindness and light in his eyes.
She had never, never seen him like this. Broken. Hollow. Gone.
She walked slowly toward him, her footsteps soft on the floorboards, and knelt down in front of him, just as Annabeth had done.
She reached out with a hand full of maternal love and rested it lightly on his arm.
"Percy," she called softly.
He shifted his gaze then, turning his head slowly toward her. His eyes met hers but they were empty.
Just a blank, distant stare. He didn't answer. As if he didn't even know who she was, not right now.
Sally took a shaky breath, her throat tight with emotion, and spoke again, her voice soft, full of all the love she had ever held for him.
"Please... don't lose yourself, baby," she said, her thumb brushing gently back and forth over his arm. "You need to eat. You need to sleep. You need to care for yourself, my love. I know how much it hurts. But please... don't forget yourself in all this pain. Don't let this take you away too."
She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, her palm warm against his skin, her fingers brushing through the dark hair at his temple.
Percy just stared at her, still and unblinking, his expression unchanging, like a little boy lost in a crowd, unable to find his way home.
Seeing him like this, her strong, brave, wonderful son, reduced to this hollow shell.
She thought of those five years he spent racing against the tragedy, fighting every single day and how he'd finally broken free, come out stronger, come out a winner.
But now… tragedy had caught up at last, and it was drowning him in endless torment.
It broke her heart all over again. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, and she leaned closer, her voice trembling, cracking under the weight of her grief and love.
"Percy... my son..." she whispered, caressing his face, her touch tender and desperate, trying to reach him through the fog in his mind. "Please... say something. Anything. Just... let me know you're still in there."
"..."
For a long moment, nothing happened. The silence stretched.
Then, slowly, so slowly it almost hurt to watch, Percy's lips began to tremble.
The blankness in his sea-green eyes wavered and suddenly they were glistening-bright, swimming with tears he had been holding back for days, weeks, for what felt like an eternity.
His chest hitched, a jagged, broken breath tearing from his throat, and then, he cried.
It wasn't a loud, dramatic outburst.
It was a raw, quiet, and agonized sound, the sound of something finally breaking completely.
Tears spilled freely from his eyes, running down his cheeks, soaking into his skin.
He didn't make a sound beyond that ragged breathing, his body shook with every suppressed sob, every bit of pain he'd bottled up since the world turned gray.
He wasn't just grieving for Theo. He was grieving all the years he'd lost, years of endless fighting, of running, of never truly resting. An endless cycle that left him broken.
He was still just a boy. A teenager who had carried the weight of the world for far too long.
Sally couldn't bear it a second longer. She pulled him forward, wrapping her arms tight around him, pulling his head down to rest against her chest, cradling him just as she had done when he was small, scared and hurting.
She held him with all her strength, rocking him gently back and forth, her own tears falling onto his hair.
Percy clung to her, his arms wrapping around her waist, holding on as tight as he possibly could.
As if she were the only solid thing left in a dissolving world.
He pressed his face into her chest, burying his sobs against her, letting out every bit of fear, every bit of heartbreak, every bit of love and loss he'd kept locked away.
He let it show that he was grieving for the loss of a friend, a brother, and for someone who had become important to him.
He cried silently, his body shaking, his hands gripping her shirt as if he were drowning and she was the only anchor keeping him from sinking forever.
Sally stroked his hair in slow, steady strokes, just as she had when he was a child.
She pressed kisses to the top of his head, murmuring soft and gentle words. Her voice thick with tears but steady and filled with endless love.
"Shh... it's okay... let it out, baby... let it all out... I've got you... I've got you..."
She held him there for what felt like hours, letting him cry, letting him break, and letting him rest.
Outside, the city went on turning, the world kept moving.
But here, in the safety of his mother's arms, Percy finally began to breathe again, painful breaths, but breaths, all the same.
.
Weeks passed. Slowly and painfully, Piece by piece.
Percy began to function again. He ate when food was set before him. He spoke when spoken to, and answering in short, quiet sentences. He walked, he helped, he breathed.
To anyone passing by, he might have looked almost like himself. A functional human being. A normal teenager.
But Sally knew. She saw the way his gaze drifted and went unfocused toward the window or somewhere, as if listening for a voice only he could hear.
She saw the way his face would crumble, like he had reached out and found nothing but empty air.
He would blink, shake his head slightly, and pull himself back,
Set his posture straight, he was doing his best.
Percy Jackson was healing. But he was still broken.
You could not force the pieces to fit when they had been shattered so deeply.
And so Sally watched, and waited, and loved him more fiercely than ever, proud even in her grief that her son was trying so hard.
She let out a long, quiet sigh and rested a hand gently over her stomach
It was round now and a new life was growing inside her womb, a fragile, bright thing in the middle of so much pain.
Paul's hand came to rest warmly against her back, moving in slow, steady strokes, grounding her.
"Percy is a strong boy," he said softly to her. "He'll be back in no time. We'll be just here for him all the time."
Sally hummed in answer, then she rested her head against his shoulder, grateful beyond words for his calm assurance.
The apartment settled into a soft, comfortable quiet, only the steady ticking of the clock marking the passing of time.
After a moment, Sally straightened, smoothing her hands over her apron. "It's time for dinner. I'll call Percy, would you set the table?"
"Of course." Paul stood, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Take your time."
Sally nodded, breathing in deeply to steady herself, to smooth the worry from her face.
She had to be strong. She could not let her son carry her grief as well as his own. She lifted her chin and walked down the hall toward his room.
She raised her hand and knocked lightly. "Percy? Dinner's ready."
Silence.
'Please, don't let something happen to him.' Sally prayed to whatever god was listening to her plea.
She knocked again, a little louder. "Percy?"
Still nothing.
A small, cold knot tightened in her chest. These past few days, her son had been doing better, answering quickly, even offering a faint smile. So he should have called back by now.
When the third knock brought only silence, her heartbeat quickened. "Percy? I'm coming in."
She turned the handle. The door opened easily as Percy had never bothered locking it, an old habit since changing their apartment.
She stepped inside and deep down in her mind, she was afraid of what she would find.
But the room was empty.
The bed was neatly made. The window stood open and the curtains billowed softly in the evening breeze.
And her son, Percy, was gone.
A cold and heavy dread spread through her body, settling deep in her bones.
She stepped forward, scanning the room, half-hoping he had simply stepped out, that he would walk through the door any moment now, sheepish and apologetic.
But he was not there.
Sally stood alone in the quiet room, her hand pressed to her chest, staring at the empty space where he should have been.
And she knew.
Percy Jackson was missing.