Naomi remembers, when she left Will at Camp Half-Blood, years ago. She remembers how her heart broke, how she hugged him fiercely and almost didn't let go, her life suddenly so empty without her little sun.
For their protection, Apollo said, the same night. It is the last time she saw him too.
She remembers every phone call they made, every month, without fault. How she heard his voice change, and followed his growth through the pictures he sent, year after year. Taller, lankier, seemingly hitting a growth spurt between each photo.
It pleases her, looking at the photographs, to see that Will still has her smile. She thinks she sees herself in the shape of his face too, in the unruly pattern of his curls.
They are her most valued possessions, these days. The nights her soul aches for her son, for her precious boy who is miles away, out of her arms reach and embrace, she sinks in her couch and flicks through the dozens of pictures.
He's always grinning, radiating joy and warmth, even through the plastic paper. Very rarely alone, though.
She has learn to put names on the faces, thanks to Will's detailed phone calls. The taller boy Will always looks up to, stars shining in his eyes, is Lee Fletcher, the head counsellor of her son.
He is in almost every picture, and each one, Will is happy. He is laughing when Lee is carrying him on his shoulders. He is ecstatic in his tailored bright new doctor's coat, jumping around Lee who is wearing one, but worn-out, greyish. Lee and Will doing archery, horse-riding, pottery, name an activity and Lee Fletcher will be there, kind eyes and caring smile looking at her son with dearness.
There are other pictures with other siblings. So many siblings, Will has on his father's side. Micheal, Sandy, Dana, Nathan, all as sunny as her son.
He sends her photographs with his friends from other cabins too. Playing chess with an older girl, Annabeth Chase. Judging from the board, Naomi thinks he lost the game, despite the frown of concentration etched on his young face, his lips pursed and focused eyes. There's a blurred picture of him running after two identical boys, who Will has described as funny and apparently not twins. Connor and Travis.
Her favorite photo is, ironically, the most bittersweet one. Will's tenth birthday. It is a beautiful picture, with him at the centre and all his friends and family around him, singing him happy birthday. Her son, face alit by the ten candles decorating the chocolate cake, looks so loved, and happy, it makes her heart swell, and ache at the same time. If only she could have been there with him, celebrating that important milestone.
She is lost in her thoughts, looking at the photo, when the phone rings. It's an unknown number she knows well - the phone of the Big House at Camp, the one Will uses to call her for their monthly catch-up.
Except it's not supposed to be for another two weeks.
Maybe it's not Will, but Chiron, Naomi reckons, reaching for her phone. He does call her from time to time, to keep her updated on Will's schooling and grades, as well as other things.
"Hello ?" She says first, expecting for Chiron's old, but kind, voice on the other end.
Naomi freezes. She has heard him happy, she has heard him wistful, she has heard sad. But this... his voice is meek, hoarse as he has trouble finding the strength to speak. He sounds like he has cried all the tears out of his boy, his breathing ragged and heavy.
She practically leaps out the couch, dread making her skin crawl as she rushes to get her car keys and the first shoes she finds.
"Will ? Will, honey, are you okay ?" She screams into the phone, slamming the entrance door open, chilly air hitting her face.
Her mind is not helping her, engineering dozens of awful scenarios, where her son is hurt, bleeding, in pain. And she is not there.
"Will, baby, please," She begs, strangled, hot tears pooling in her eyes while she turns on the car's engine. The airport is less than two hours away, and she hopes there's a flight to New York leaving soon. "Tell mama what happened."
She knows, of course, that he does not tell everything. His life is one she cannot understand, filled with dangers she can't help with, monsters she is powerless against. But Camp is safe. Apollo promised her it was the safest place for their boy.
At the end of the line, Will is sobbing, words drowned under his tears and hiccups. He is speaking fast, and Naomi only catches a few words - "....battle and- mama, I...him... gone-"
She wants to cry with him. To hear him so hurt, so broken, is worse than any kind of pain she endured before.
"I'm coming, okay baby ?" She says shakily, pressing on the gas pedal with more strength. "I'm coming to get you."
The crying stops, briefly. She hears people yelling, sounding as scared and distressed as her son. Anxiety and fear are eating her alive, trying to understand what happened. Camp is safe, her mind repeats like a broken automat, Camp is safe. Will is supposed to be sheltered from danger. It's the reason she let him go in the first place, has let the world take her son away from her when he was only seven.
"Mama, I- I have to go." Will says suddenly, his hollow voice a little bit stronger than before. "They need me, I have to help."
"No, no, no, Will, stay on the phone with me, tell me you're okay." She pleads, her hands white from gripping the wheel too tightly. "Tell me you're okay first."
She needs to hear him say it. She needs to know her son is not dying while she is miles away from him, on the brink of having a panic attack in her car on the highway.
"I... I will be" Will says after a moment of hesitation, his small voice fizzling out the phone weakly. "I have to go now, mama. I- I'm sorry."
When he hangs up, Naomi breaks into tears. She wishes the airport was closer, she wishes she could just teleport herself next to her son. But under the pain, simmering below the excruciating sorrow turning her blood into ice, there's anger too.
"You told me he would be safe, Apollo. You promised." She cries, alone in car, infuriatingly powerless. She has never felt so useless in her life.
Apollo, as she expected, doesn't answer, or show up. Nothing changes, not the pressure, or the temperature, not even a whisper.
She doesn't notice she is going faster than she should.
When she gets to the airport, a flight leaving for New York is miraculously leaving in the next hour, and she buys an outrageously overpriced ticket, but she doesn't care. The wait in the terminal, as well as the flight, are painfully long. She cannot get out of her head Will's voice, his words echoing in her mind.
She remembers, when he told her he started helping Lee at the infirmary, using his powers. He had sounded so happy, and she couldn't blame him. Be helpful, she has taught him. She didn't think at the time what it would mean, in the demigod world, to help.
When she lands, she hails the first cab she sees, and gives him the address of Camp. She's trembling in the car, watching the urban surrounding morph into woods, slowly. Until she is in the middle of nowhere, at the same place she was, three years ago.
"Yes, yes, leave me here, please." She insists, jumping out of the taxi to climb the hill, a tall pine tree crowning the top.
Camp Half-Blood. Will. He's waiting for her, leaning against the tree. She climbs up with a new vigor.
"Will !" She yells when she gets on top, and his head snaps towards her.
"Mama !" He cries, tackling her into a hug, burying his head in her chest. Her arms automatically wrap around him, bringing him closer. He barely reached her waist, the last time she saw him.
"Will, oh my baby." She sobs, so engrossed in finally seeing her son again that she misses the gigantic dragon wrapped around the tree, looking at her curiously. "You're okay."
He is warm, the way she remembers him to be. He is alive. But she can tell he's been through something, something harsh, that has taken some of his softness away. His hair is dry and dirty, as he has not showered in days.
But when Will leans back, it's his eyes that shatter her heart. His bright wide eyes that never learned to hide his emotions, the purest reflection of his soul, as blue as the summer sky. At least that's how she remembered them. They're dull now, less lively. The bright blue is gone, veiled under grief and sadness. As if life had deserted them.
It's when Naomi understands. A battle. Someone gone.
"Oh Will." Her voice breaks, pulling him in another hug, "I'm so sorry, my love."
Later, she'll learn it was Lee Fletcher. Later, she'll learn that Will had been the one to found him, and will cry, faced with the cruelty of this world.
"Mama, I..." Will tries, his face twisted in pain. He is so young. He still has his baby cheeks, the ones she loved to squish.
It is wrong, for him to know that kind of hurt already.
"You don't have to tell me now, my little sun." She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead, holding back her own tears. "Okay ?"
Will nods feebly. "Can you hold me, please ?"
"Of course, baby." She says softly, running her hands through his hair, soothingly. "As long as you need."
Around them, the air warms up, imperceptibly. A featherlight weight settles on both their shoulders. Neither of them notice.
