You're family, aren't you?

Some rules are not meant to be broken

Come home.

Jason opened his eyes, a gasp trapped in his throat. He had dreamed about that girl again: this time, her hair was much shorter and spikier, but the electric blue eyes he knew only from his own reflection stayed the same. And just like every time before, she had told him to come home.

“I am home,” he said aloud, in the pale predawn light.

The sentence was left hanging in the mid-air, and the newly appointed Praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata shivered at the ominous feeling it left. Why did he suddenly feel like a liar, or like a child closing his eyes in front of the larger truth? Why couldn’t Fates give him a break?

“Damn you, Sephie Jackson,” he cursed out loud and got out of the bed, unable to sleep anymore.

He had never questioned himself or his origins before he had met that demigoddess – for what else could she had been? She had a relatively normal mortal surname and was running away from the Mount Othrys; ergo, a demigoddess. He had hoped to see her at the Camp, but she never appeared, leaving him with the terrifying dreams that made him question everything he knew about himself.

He was Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, and the only child of that god lucky enough to have Juno as his patron. That should’ve been enough for him.

“Damn you,” he repeated, trying to vent his frustration.

Needless to say, he failed spectacularly. He had no idea why, but curiosity was all but ingrained into demigods’ blood, and he would not rest well until he got the answers he needed.

Thankfully, he knew who to ask for such information, even if he detested the guy.

Yes, he’ll endure the slimy bastard’s questions if it meant getting Sephie Jackson out of his head.

~

“Sephie Jackson?” Octavian hummed, picking up one of the teddy bear plushies littering the floor of the temple of Jupiter. Twirling the ceremonial dagger in his hand, he approached Jason and pushed the bear into Jason’s hands. “Picture her as closely as you can.”

Jason did as instructed, closing his eyes and imagining Sephie in as much detail as he could recall: the wild black locks that cascaded down her back, the ruffled white Greek dress, blazing sea-green eyes that seemed almost cracked in hindsight -

“Okay, that’s good,” Octavian snatched the teddy out of Jason’s hands.

Jason used the time Octavian took to prepare his blade and the teddy for the reading to collect himself and analyze the situation as much as he could. Apparently, he managed to miss quite a few things while trying to forget the girl.

He took a deep breath and dove into the memory of the night.

The recon missions were usually done by the veterans, people who had spent most of their service in espionage and reconnaissance. This time, however, Romans could not rely on them – they needed someone agile, able to see a lot and run away very fast. Mercury children were ideal for the role, but they had returned from the assignment empty-handed.

“We need air recon,” Sasha, the leader of the mission, reported to Julian and Cassandra from the infirmary bed, grimacing in pain as the healers did their work.

Her right leg was broken in no less than twelve places, the souvenir of the fight she had with one of the elder Titans – Hyperion. The healers and her family praised the gods for that: the brilliant Titan was Saturn’s brother, and while cruel, he did not seem too interested in finishing her off, which allowed her siblings to save her.

At first, Cassandra, the female praetor and daughter of Trivia, hadn’t wanted to hear about sending Jason out for the recon. Julian, son of Apollo and the male praetor, backed her up without reservations, and argued fiercely for recruiting nature spirits and/or sending someone undercover.

Once the information reached the Senate, though, the decision was taken out of the praetors’ hands: Jason was flying out a week later, despite Cassandra’s and Julian’s heavy objections. Jason could understand their fear: Jupiter was not the most caring of gods, but Juno’s temper was unpredictable at best. If something happened to him, her unofficial charge, who knew what kind of reaction the Queen of Gods would have.

Unfortunately, personal feelings had no place in the matters of war in Camp Jupiter: Jason was the only one who could fly for extended periods of time and was long enough in the Camp to be trusted with sensitive information. So, for the sake of the mission, he gritted his teeth, saluted the Praetors and his friends from Fifth Cohort who came to see him off, and flew off to Mount Tamalpais.

Arriving at the base of the mountain, son of Jupiter opted to walk to the entrance – it wouldn’t do to exhaust himself and fall in the middle of recon and alert the Titan camp of his presence. The trek took a few hours, heavily punctuated by Jason’s swears as he tripped over small rocks, but at the sundown he arrived at the Garden of Hesperides.

“Finally!” Jason grumbled, allowing the winds to lift him up and above the Garden, from where he could see the seat of Titans’ power.

“Dear gods, we’re screwed,” escaped from his lips.

Sasha’s report of the fortress reforming in front of her eyes had been a massive understatement: Jason could still see some places that were under the construction, but for the most part, the obsidian palace was complete. He didn’t know why or how, but something sped up the reformation.

“This is bad,” Jason growled to himself, letting the winds take him a bit closer and lower, so he could see things clearly.

Monsters of all types were crawling on the grounds, and the traitor demigods mingled between them. Most of them behaved like typical soldiers, but Jason spotted a few monsters and a demigod that seemed to command some sort of rank – everyone steered clear of them, eyes glinting with either jealousy or deference.

Storing them in his memory, Jason reached out with his hand to summon winds to fly away, when –

“Hey you! Get up or someone’ll see you!”

Jason started and looked down. The unnaturally bright green eyes set in the tanned skin glared daggers at him from behind one of the boulders.

“W-what?”

“I said, fly up or someone’ll see you, stupid!”

“And why should I trust an enemy?” Jason retorted hotly, flying a little lower so he could see the girl he was talking to.

At the time, he was more astounded by her eyes and drew conclusions far too hastily; in retrospective, her dress and overall appearance should’ve told him she was not an ally of Titans. The Grecian-style white dress was dirty, showing holes in some places. Her hair was done in a haphazard bun, held by a dagger, and her arms and face were littered with tiny cuts and bruises.

“An enemy? Please,” the girl snorted, moving from behind the boulder and closer to the garden of Hesperides. “These guys killed too many of my friends for me to ever ally with them.”

Jason froze mid-air. If she was telling the truth – and she had absolutely no reason to lie – that would mean…

“Now fly away, Superman, before they spot us both and drag us in. Again.” The girl slipped through the garden while he wasn’t watching. “I’m on a time-limit, and if you’re the reason they spot me, I will murder you, demigod or no.”

“O-okay,” Jason murmured, still in the thrall of the shock. “W-wait, what’s your name?!”

The girl stopped and whirled around to look him straight in the eye.

“Why do you want to know that, Superman?”

“That’s not my name - it’s Jason Grace,” Jason corrected her automatically, used to younger campers’ similar comments. “And I want to know so I can vouch for you when you come to Camp Jupiter.”

“Vouch…” the girl muttered, crossing her arms. “I guess with the war, you never know who the spy is… Okay. I’m Sephie Jackson.”

Jason sighed in relief. Now that he knew, she would need to say his name and she won’t be harassed by the First and Second Cohort.

“Okay. When you come, just say my name and they’ll let you through!”

“I have something.”

Octavian’s voice tore Jason out of the memory, refocusing him on the real world.

“What?”

“Where this person is right now.”

The legacy of Apollo extended the teddy, showing Jason the blue-green design in the stuffing.

“Golden Gate Bridge?” Jason frowned at the image.

The design was impossible to confuse with some other landmark: even done in hues of blue and green, it was easy to recognize. The problem was, of course, Jason’s status as Praetor. He could not simply run off and leave Reyna to manage all alone. It would be highly irresponsible of him, and the reason was certainly not good enough to break the rules.

However…

Something nagged at him. Something about those green eyes called to him and his blood. He wouldn’t call it enmity – after facing Krios, he had hard time finding someone deserving of being called his enemy – but it burned, demanded him to face her and get answers out of her, whatever way he could.

He will have to do it.

“Thank you, Octavian.”

“You’re not planning to leave just like that, are you Praetor?” The blonde legacy hummed, twirling the ceremonial dagger in his hands.

Jason became deathly still. While the dagger had not been used on humans in the longest time, the fact remained it was sharp enough to hurt both demigods and monsters. Octavian had never been particularly good in combat, but his throwing skills and archery more than made up for it.

When paired with his status of Augur and the seamless way he manipulated everyone around him, Octavian became very definition of the manipulative asshole who could back up his threats on both personal and impersonal level.

In other words, if he wasn’t careful, Jason would be screwed.

“Of course not,” son of Jupiter said with finality. “I would never do such a thing. I value my continued existence.”

“Ah, Reyna?” Octavian smirked, blue eyes flashing with easily recognizable malice. “She holds you on quite a short leash, does she not?”

Jason had no proper rebuttal for that; it was the truth, after all.

“You say like that’s a bad thing.”

“I don’t know,” Octavian shrugged, the picture of innocence as he turned back to the pile of teddies. “I’m merely saying. The rules are there for a good reason, Praetor.”

“Naturally,” Jason agreed with a frown. “And I will obey them at all times unless they interfere with direct survival of the Legion.”

“That’s good to know,” Octavian took a step back and turned on his heel. “Now, if you will excuse me, Praetor Jason. I still have morning rituals that need to be observed.”

~

In the end, Jason managed to talk Reyna into giving him a few hours to search for the elusive Sephie Jackson. It did cost him extra paperwork and inspections, but since had expected a flat-out no from his co-Praetor, this was almost an ideal scenario.

Commanding winds to take him up high to reduce the Mist warping around him, he flew to the Golden Gate Bridge, waiting for the fog to lift from the sea level for him to land on the North Tower. From there, he had a perfect view of the bridge and those on it.

“I didn’t know Praetors had time for casual sight-seeing, boy.”

Jason froze at the sharp comment and spun around, dropping on his knee as he registered just who had spoken.

“Lord Mercury.”

The patron God of Messengers huffed, tapping with the caduceus, which made son of Jupiter tense up involuntarily.

“Relax boy,” the god ordered not even looking at the demigod. “I have my own errands to run here today, and since I do not see panic in the Camp Jupiter, I will let it slide by.”

Jason sighed in relief and bowed deeply, calling for the winds to separate his soles from the cast metal of Golden Gate Bridge. Really, he’d better find the elusive demigoddess – he’d jumped too many hoops so far to return home empty-handed.

Wait.

“Lord Mercury?” Jason called, the bud of the craziest idea he’d had up to date quickly blossoming in his mind. “May I ask a favor of you?”

“A favor?”

“Yes,” Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Can you show me the shortest way to my destination if the destination is the person?”

Mercury frowned for a moment, twirling the caduceus between his fingers.

“Theoretically, if the person is not too far away,” the god said slowly, blue eyes blazing as they focused on the blond demigod, “and if you have some connection to them, I could lead you to them…”

“I’ll do anything,” Jason promised without a moment of hesitation. He knew it was far too reckless – once he gave his word, he could not take it back, and gods loved to mess with mortals – but he had to do it. He had to see her just one more time, if only to settle everything.

“Anything?”

Surprisingly, Lord Mercury gave him a chance to get out of it. He could not take it, however. He had to settle this now.

“Yes, anything.”

“Very well,” the god sighed, closing his eyes and tapping the caduceus to the metal. “Who am I searching for?”

“Sephie Jackson.”

~

Mercury could not believe his ears, Hermes screaming in the back of his mind. Had that boy just said what he thought he said? How in the world did the son of Jupiter and daughter of Poseidon made contact? The feelers fed to Olympus via Dionysus and Chiron did not reveal anything –

Wait.

Jupiter did look rather nervous at the celebration for Greek heroes, and Apollo told him he had a dance with Sephie. Was that when…?

He stopped himself before the mind-shattering headache could worsen and reflect on his appearance – it wouldn’t do to show himself as his less stern, Greek version in front of Roman demigod.

“Fine,” Mercury nodded, sending out a tendril of power to search for the all too familiar signature of his Greek side’s lover. “But I will collect my favor immediately.”

Jason tensed up beside him.

“Never speak of Persephone Jackson again to anyone,” the two sides spoke at the same time, the mix of Mercury’s deeper baritone mixing with Hermes’ lighter tenor enough to frighten even the most fearless.

“I will not,” Jason promised with a smile and exhale. “I will never contact her again, I swear. I just need to settle the old scores.”

Mercury only shook his head: the boy did not know what kind of effect that blasted girl had on people she met. She charmed Saturn’s host into tricking the old codger, for Creator’s sake! Who knew what kind of thing the wily Greek girl could talk Praetor into if they remained in contact? The worst thing, of course, was Persephone’s utter obliviousness to her charm.

“I shall hold you to that, boy. She’s at the café on the other side of the bridge.”

“Thank you!”

And with those words, son of Jupiter jumped off the tower, winds carrying him to the café where Persephone was supposed to meet Hermes in fifteen minutes.

Mercury groaned and rubbed his forehead. How was he going to explain this to his father and Persephone?

~

Jason took off at the speed of bullet the moment he got a confirmed location from Lord Mercury, inwardly thanking Fates for the break they gave him – the god did not ask for much, comparatively speaking. He had gambled – taken a risk that was probably unnecessary in hindsight – but he had gotten off lightly and had what he needed: Sephie Jackson’s location.

The café the god pointed him to was not difficult to find, nor was Sephie Jackson. That wavy black hair was easy to spot, even in the throng of tourists and locals milling around. With air advantage, he reached her in matter of seconds and landed right in front of her, trusting the Mist to cover up this incident.

“Sephie Jackson?”

“Jason Grace,” the girl blinked before tilting her head skyward and grimacing slightly. “You really shouldn’t be talking to me.”

“Yeah I know, but I need to talk with you for a mo’,” Jason followed her as she tried to back away. “Please, it’s important.”

Sephie stopped, hand twitching to the hair clip in her hair before relaxing at her side. Jason eyeballed the little accessory with wary eyes – was it her weapon? He had to give her props: it was pretty and inconspicuous way to hide the weapon without taxing the Mist.

“Okay, but be quick. I have a date, and I don’t want to become a French fry because of your dad,” she grumbled as she led him inside the café and ordered a simple latte. Jason asked for water, and the pair descended into uneasy silence as they waited for their orders to come.

“What’s so important you needed to talk to me, Jason Grace?” Sephie asked the moment their waiter left them alone with the drinks.

“Why didn’t you come to the Camp Jupiter?” Jason countered with a question of his own.

Sephie bit her lip.

“Pass,” she said finally. “I swore an oath to Styx to your dad. I break it, and I’m dead.”

Jason cursed internally. He wanted answers, but he won’t be able to get them if Sephie died!

“Okay. Who’s your godly parent?”

“Poseidon,” the answer came instantaneously, a proud smile on her face as she glanced at the choppy waves in the San Francisco Bay.

“Poseidon? Don’t you mean Neptune?” Jason was completely confused now. Why was she using the Greek names?

“Nope, it’s Poseidon. He said that himself,” Sephie shrugged. “Neptune… isn’t that Roman? Essentially the same god, but under a different name?”

“Wait, wait. He said it himself?” Jason’s mind was short-circuiting. Did she juts imply…? Had she…?

“Uh, duh.” Sephie looked at him with a frown. “Met your dad too – all of the Olympians, in fact. I was at Olympus about a month ago. So Uncle Z didn’t visit you at all? Can’t say I’m surprised – with the prophecy and Hera being Hera…”

“You met with the gods,” Jason repeated weakly, trying to wrap his head around the fact. She, a daughter of Neptune, met the gods while he never even saw his father or his patron – Lord Mercury was his first contact with the Olympians. How was this fair?

“Yes, she did,” a woman’s voice said from behind, disapproval heavy in her voice. “And she should not have talked about it.”

Jason turned sharply in his chair and promptly lost all the color in his face.

Juno.

“Do I look like I care, Hera?” Sephie crossed her arms. “He’s a demigod like me. He has the right to know.”

“No he doesn’t,” Juno countered. “And it’s Juno, my dear. While I deal with you… good night, my hero.”

Good-?

The world turned to black.