You're family, aren't you?

Love is complicated (or how Sephie sees herself)

Love is complicated.

That’s one of the first lessons little Sephie Jackson had learned while growing up. Her Mom, Sally, was the perfect example of that – she swore up and down she loved Sephie’s Dad, yet she married Smelly Gabe. At first, she thought it was just how things worked when one of your parents is lost (dead, stupid girlie, your precious Daddy is dead, Sephie could still hear Angela Polowski’s mocking, way back in the first grade), but that wasn’t the case.

So many of her classmates in her numerous schools had complicated situations at home, it wasn’t even funny. Stories of cheating, betrayal, domestic abuse, gambling, drinking and so many other skin-crawling things became somewhat of a norm by the time she entered her third school in three years. It seemed that just about every delinquent kid out there had some sort of mess in their families.

However, Sephie was sure her Mom loved her Dad; she just wanted to be sure, so she decided to ask the source.

“Mom?” Sephie remembered asking Sally about a year before she learned from her Uncle she was a demigod. “Can you love more than one person? Like, holding hands and kissing?”

Sally stopped washing the dishes, tossing a look at the closed doors of the apartment while biting her lip. Gabe was still out, but he could come back at any moment, Sephie knew that. He was a bit unpredictable on Wednesday evenings.

“Are you referring to your father and Gabriel, sweetie?” Sally asked carefully, looking her daughter in the eye. Sephie nodded, lowering her gaze in shame. She hadn’t meant to offend or to upset her Mom – she loved her so much, and she had created enough of problems for her already. “Yes, you can, if you truly love them and know they truly love you. If they can’t be with you for forever, they will let you go and you will let them go to find someone who will be there forever.”

At times, Sephie had not really understood what her mother meant with that cryptic sentence – she had been not yet twelve, and she never thought about boys in that way before. Years later though, as she watched Luke smile in pain at her, life slowly draining from his eyes as he fulfilled the Prophecy she thought was meant for her, she could finally understand the words that confused her so much before.

You really could love more than one person, but if that love was true, you would be able to let go. And she truly loved Luke, and he loved her too almost as much – he had done so much for her, knowing he would not be able to hold her forever. The moment she refused to join him at Zephyrus Creek, their fates had been sealed.

“Be happy for me, Seph, okay?” were Luke’s final words to her. Something in the glint in his eyes told her he somehow knew about her close friendship with his father and approved. “Don’t you dare follow me too quickly.”

“I won’t,” Sephie had recklessly promised on top on her previous promise to get recognition for every demigod child, clutching the trident pendant he took from her all those years ago on Mount Othrys. “I swear I won’t.”

And she’d rather eat discharge from her Uncle’s Master Bolt than break her promises.

~

“You looked a bit angry before,” Hermes murmured into her ear as he spun her effortlessly on the dance floor, the Strauss’ On the lovely blue Danube crooning in their ears. Sephie sighed and followed the god’s lead, taking a moment to collect her thoughts.

“I had a talk with Uncle Hades,” she finally said as an explanation, and Hermes frowned as he dipped her briefly.

“I thought you were very close?”

“We are,” Sephie smiled at Luke’s father, and for a first time today she didn’t have to put any amount of acting in it. She loved talking about her Uncle, even if they sometimes clashed – but that was natural. They were family, and no family was perfectly harmonious all the time. “He just touched a sensitive subject.”

“Luke?” Hermes winced, closing his eyes and tugging Sephie closer, swaying in place. Sephie placed her head on his shoulder and sighed, nodding in confirmation. They had not talked about Luke for over two years, and Sephie refused to discuss it right now. Luke had not been dead for a full day; the wounds they all had were still too fresh. “I see. Oh, your father’s coming.”

“Is he?” Sephie tilted her head up and to the side to look over Messenger God’s shoulder. True to Hermes’ words, Poseidon was walking up to them, eyes fixed on Sephie as he flawlessly avoided other partygoers. “I guess I have to say bye for now.”

“No worries, Sephie,” Hermes shook his head and released from his hold, taking a step back. “I need some time alone anyway. I might as well escape now – if Apollo gets ahold of me, I won’t be leaving this room before next sunrise.”

Sephie winced in sympathy and hugged him briefly before setting off to intercept her father. Thank the Fates, the party was in a full swing, so immortals mostly ignored Sephie, and the demigods and satyrs were currently on the other side of the room, having their own mini-party. Sephie was the only one currently dancing with gods, and that was only because Hermes and Hades invited her to join in.

“Wait a minute, niece.”

Sephie groaned but obediently stopped and turned around to face the King of Gods. To her utter surprise, he had switched gears between the award ceremony and the party: instead of pinstriped suit, he had male version of chiton on, the golden circlet resting on his head.

Moreover, he was holding out his hand out, wordlessly asking her for a dance.

“Uncle Zeus?” Sephie stuttered out, grabbing one hand with the other to stop herself from twirling a loose lock near her face. She was not going to reveal how much her uncle managed to surprise her.

“May I have this dance?” the man asked her politely, but Sephie could see the dangerous glimmer in his eyes. This was not a question, but a demand, and Sephie could not refuse it right now, not without making an unnecessary fuss.

“Of course,” Sephie stepped forward, placing her hand in Zeus’. “But I will warn you: Dad was looking for me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about my brother,” Zeus waved the warning away and dragged her closer, leading her into a waltz. “I believe he got a bit… distracted.”

Sephie tilted her head questioningly, and Sky Lord spun her so she could see what laid behind her before. A chuckle escaped the daughter of Poseidon; her father was distracted, alright. She would’ve been too, if she had to lead her rival in a Latino American dance – salsa, was it? She couldn’t really find it in herself to be surprised by their skill: they had had three millennia to get good at dancing.

“Nice distraction,” she complimented with a small laugh, but she still refused to relax completely in her Uncle’s hold. “Do I want to know how you got Lady Athena to agree to this?”

“I don’t believe so, no,” Zeus chuckled before sobering up, rainy grey eyes brightening to electric blue Sephie had only ever seen in Thalia and Jason. Oh there were good knock-offs she spotted in the mortal world, but nothing could compare to the eyes of the divinities. “I heard you’ve met Jason Grace.”

“What about it?” Sephie asked, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable. Something about the statement was just rubbing her the wrong way. It wasn’t anything particularly threatening, but it was quite unnerving in its mystery. Sephie only liked mysteries if she could solve them: otherwise they just made her stomach uneasy and skin crawl.

“You would do well to keep your mouth shut about it,” Zeus warned her, the deadly edge to the otherwise flat words. “I have no idea how you two managed to run into each other, but thankfully the barrier endured, so you haven’t done anything dangerous.”

“What barrier? What are you talking about, Uncle?” Sephie fixed her gaze on god’s flashing ones, hoping she managed to portray her annoyance and thirst for knowledge. What was her uncle not telling her?

Zeus blinked for a second, eyes switching between grey and blue before they fixed on the grey she was used to seeing. “You understood me?”

“Seriously, Uncle, what’s going on? Of course I understood you,” Sephie huffed as the song around them died and they slowed to a stop. “You were talking English, you know? Now excuse me, I need to talk with Dad.” She turned to leave, but the strong hand closed around her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

“Persephone Jackson,” Zeus said her full name, and Sephie would’ve thrown a fuss about it, but the god looked deadly serious. “Swear on River Styx you will not speak about Jason Grace to anyone mortal.”

Sephie bit her lip. “I already told Thalia.”

“Hunters are exempted – they are partially immortal. Swear it!” Now there was a faint hint of madness in the King’s eyes, and Sephie went along with his request, swearing on Styx before freeing herself to find her father. She could not forget about the weird feeling she got from her Uncle when Jason Grace entered the conversation.

I’ll figure it out later.

~

The first two weeks after the Battle of Manhattan felt surreal to the newly minted Heroine of Olympus. The Mist did such wonders to cover up the mess demigods and Kronos’ army created in Manhattan from the mortal eyes, but it did absolutely nothing to the world of Greek mythology. Suddenly, Sephie found herself visited by quite a number of people, mostly minor gods and friendlier Cyclopes, who all wanted her attention for only a moment. Frankly, it quickly became boring and exhausting, and she was not afraid of calling in some favors. The way she saw it, Olympus owed her quite a bit for saving their asses.

“Hey, Sephie,” Hermes grinned at her from his perch on her windowsill. “You called a favor?”

“Hey Hermes, and yeah,” Sephie sighed, walking up to the god and hugging him. “Have some time to spare in your schedule?”

“As a matter of fact, yup. Something in mind?” Hermes tilted his head, and Sephie bit her lip before she could slip up and call him by his son’s name. In her defense, the similarity was just ridiculous.

“Can you get us to Montauk?”

“Montauk?” Hermes furrowed his eyebrows but jumped off the windowsill, laying Sephie’s head on his chest. “No problem. Why?”

“I’ll explain it there,” Sephie said, closing her eye in preparation for the teleportation.

“Eyes closed?” Hermes waited for the confirming nod. “Kay. You can open them now!”

Sephie didn’t need the memo: her nose instantly told her she was at the familiar beach she had spent so many summers on, roasting marshmallows with her Mom, stargazing and daydreaming about her Dad. Rushing off, she ran down the beach to the rental cabin, but instead of heading for it, she ran straight into the ocean. Nothing could calm her down like being in her father’s domain, and she planned to take full advantage of it.

“C’mon, Hermes!” she called over the screeching of seagulls and crashing of the waves. “Get in the water!”

“It’s cold, Sephie!” Hermes tried to wriggle out of her invitation, but Sephie was not budging.

“Not while I’m around. And don’t bring in Dad,” she intercepted the objection before it could leave the god’s mouth. “You’re with me – he won’t do anything if you step in here.”

Hermes hesitated for a long minute before shrugging and running up to the demigoddess, wading into the shallows after her until he stood directly behind her.

“You know, this is where Mum met Dad,” Sephie smiled, watching as the moon peeked from under the horizon and feeling the Messenger God shelter her from the setting sun’s harsh rays. “Cliché as it sounds, we always returned here in summer. A few days, a week – it was a break from the mortal world.” She turned to Hermes, feeling her entire body relax at the halo Apollo’s chariot created around her companion. “Before the camp, this was the only place I felt like any other girl out there.”

Hermes’ eyes widened at the confession, and he went in for a hug. Sephie gladly accepted it, clutching him tightly.

“Thank you for telling me,” Hermes murmured into her ear, carding one of his hands through her messy raven ringlets. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Sephie chuckled, the sound muffled by Hermes’ shirt. She had no idea why she opened to him, but she was glad she had done it in front of him. The last time she opened to someone… well, she was trying not to think too much about Luke nowadays.

Suddenly, the sky above her darkened, and the next thing Sephie knew, Hermes was thrown over a foot away from her, coughing, sputtering and utterly drenched in seawater.

“What the hell, Uncle P!” Hermes shouted, flicking away seaweed that managed to find its way into his hair and his suit. “What did I do to you?”

“Why so salty, Dad?” Sephie couldn’t resist tossing out the pun as she glided through the restless waters, closing her eyes and laying her hand on Hermes’ shoulder t dry him off. “Can’t I have a friend?”

The sea gurgled and swished around her feet, relaying her father’s thoughts about her rhetorical question, and Sephie snickered, shaking her head. When will her Dad stop being so overprotective of her? Tyson, the Naiads… honestly, she was afraid he had some way of tracking her on land.

“Really, Dad…” she trailed off, spotting a tiny bit of seaweed stuck just above Hermes’ ear. “Let me.” She reached for the offender, craning her neck to get a good look at t as she removed it. Tossing the seaweed aside, she finally looked Hermes in the eye and realized just how close they were standing to each other.

“You know, your Dad has been doing this for the last few years whenever you came up in the conversation,” Hermes chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What, blasting people with sea water?” Sephie snorted. Her Dad could be so extra sometimes.

“Yeah. Usually he does it with Arctic Sea water though, not seaweed-filled one,” Hermes shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s worse – freezing, or feeling slimy, sticky weeds all over yourself.”

“Aw, poor Hermes,” Sephie teased a bit, but her smile gave her away. “Need someone to kiss away your boo-boos?”

Hermes blushed for some inexplicable reason. Sephie blinked in surprise before the implications of her sentence caught up with her, and she groaned, her palm colliding with her face.

“s**t! Sorry Hermes, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” Hermes interrupted her, eyes darting everywhere, and now it was Sephie’s turn to blush like a tomato. Dear Olympus, was this how Hermes scored most of his dates? Acting all awkward and schoolboy-ish with them?

“Stupid god,” Sephie huffed, and in one smooth motion tugged him to her, sealing their lips together and weaving her hands into Hermes’ salt-and-pepper hair.

How in the universe did she manage to find two biggest idiots on the Eastern Seaboard and fall in love with them? She was tempted to blame the Fates, but that would lead she exactly nowhere. Better to just relax and enjoy the moment.