My hand traced the wood of the door, flicking off flecks of old paint as my fingers found their way to the doorknob, finally resting on its cold, metallic texture.

It would be such a simple movement to just tighten my grip on the doorknob and twist, yet somehow I couldn't bring myself to do it.

What if something had happened to my parents?

After dithering outside the door for several minutes, I finally managed to gather up the courage to gently open the door, nervously scanning the room, my hand fiddling with the pen in my pocket.

I exhaled in relief when my eyes fell on my mom, perfectly well and unharmed, the glare of her computer illuminating her face.

"Mom," I breathed, unable to bring my voice over a whisper as I made my way over to her.

She jumped up, shocked, staring at me like I was a ghost, or a tap dancing unicorn. Then, smoothing over her look of surprise with a warm smile, she wrapped her arms around me and enclosed me in a wonderfully perfect, mom hug.

Relaxation washed over me as I breathed in the familiar smell of freshly baked blue cookies. Don't ask how I could smell the color. I just could.

"Percy," she said, refusing to let go of me. And believe me, at that very moment I didn't want her to.

"Mom," I said, my voice cracking in pure happiness.

"I can't believe you're back," she breathed, letting go and getting a good look at me, "and reasonably unharmed."

I ran a hand through my hair with a nervous laugh as I went through the events that had happened that Mom would not be happy about.

She bit her lip with an almost hesitant smile as she exhaled and pulled out a chair and took a seat herself.

Fiddling with the ends of her hair, she took a deep breath and looked at me, with a tinge of sadness in her deep blue eyes.

"When you-" she paused and I knew she was searching for the right word, "disappeared, I started thinking about something. Something I have been avoiding for a very, very long time."

I nodded for her to go on, my heart racing, nervous about what she was going to say.

"I didn't think it would be safe for you to know. Safe for you to be a part of this thing when you were already in so much danger."

Brushing her hands on her old, faded jeans, she stood up slowly and managed to pull out a rusty, metal box from under the table.

She passed the box to me, and with as much carefulness as I could muster, I prised open the lid, curious on what secrets the box could contain.

Inside, was a fragile piece of silver-plated mistletoe, hung on a brightly dyed blue piece of cord, faded with age, but still significantly blue.

I held it up, raising my eyebrows to voice a question I couldn't quite manage to say out loud.

"My wedding gift," Mom said softly, "from my first husband, Odin."

"Odin..." I mused, running the name over in my mind, "isn't he the Norse god of those rune thingys or something?"

"Yes," Mom corrected gently, "but also wisdom, war, and the dead."

"And he was your husband?"

Mom nodded, a short, simple gesture that could somehow mean so much.

She started fiddling with her thumbs, a thing I tended to do when I was nervous, hesitant to go on.

"I used to be someone else," she started, "I wasn't... Wasn't the best person. So I decided to change. To get a fresh start. And there were some things... Some things my ex husband wouldn't agree with me on. And so I managed to make myself mortal."

"Mortal?"

Mom's deep sapphire eyes met mine, taking the mistletoe from my hand.

"I used to be the goddess Frigg," she said, her voice breaking under the pure stress of the revelation.

***

My mom's words whirled around in my mind, picking up fragments of half-formed thoughts as it created absolute chaos.

"You're a goddess," I repeated intelligently.

"I was," she said, "and for hundreds of years, I wanted nothing to do with the Norse world. But now... Now things are different. You have a choice to make. To be a part of the Norse world or to not."

"What do you mean by 'be a part'?" I asked.

Mom smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling with the trademark sign of a genuine look of happiness.

"You have Norse blood," she explained, "and when you were born, it was still too early for me. I still wanted to hide. So I performed the last bit of magic I have performed for... A long time. A spell to hide your Norse blood."

"If you could do that, why didn't you make a spell to repel the monsters?" I asked.

"I did. But I am only a part of the Norse domain. I have no control over the Greek."

"So if you did this spell... And reversed it, what would that mean for me?" I asked, somehow finding it difficult to express my thoughts.

My mom picked up my hands, causing my eyes to flicker up to hers.

"You would be a god," she said simply.

I dropped her hands as if they were made of hot iron.

If my thoughts had been spinning around as fast as a hurricane before, now they were whirling around faster than the fastest, most destructive tornado.

"I can't... I couldn't," I muttered nonsensically.

I couldn't become a god. I couldn't-wouldn't do that to my friends. To the people who trusted me.

I had turned down godhood before. Now all I had to do was do it again. But the words refused to come.

My head started throbbing with the possibilities.

Flashes of things I didn't want to remember shot through my head, and my heart started beating faster and faster as the whole world darkened and Annabeth fell and I failed to catch her.

Screams echoed through my head, screams I knew I had caused, but I couldn't do anything about. People I had hurt, and had never apologised to.

I heard my mom calling my name, but she seemed far away, almost as if I were underwater, drowning in my thoughts.

But I had survived the Styx. I could get through this. And plus, Annabeth would kill me if anything bad happened.

I shook my head violently and started to regulate my breathing, focusing on each breath carefully.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. In. Out. In. Out.

The world slammed back into focus, and I saw my mom standing worriedly above me, clutching a phone.

"Percy," she said, hauling me up, as I looked around, my hands still trembling from the slight panic attack I had experienced.

I gave her a weak smile as she shook her head at me in an attempt to be firm.

"Perseus Jackson," she said, "you're going to tell me exactly what happened, and this time, you aren't going to leave out any important details."

***

I studied my mom's face carefully as I recounted the dangerous encounters I had experienced lately, still toning it down massively. Maybe one day I could tell her everything. But not yet. Not now, when the wound was still fresh in my mind, and the nightmares lurked just around the corner.

"It's getting too dangerous, Percy," she said when I had finished," I just want you to be safe and happy, you know?"

"I am happy," I protested, "I'm going to study and get into college with Annabeth. I can't say anything for safe, though."

Mom took a deep breath in an attempt to stop the stress from creeping in, knowing the chances of danger for demigods.

"Please, Percy," she said, resting a hand on my shoulder, "I'm not forcing you to do anything, and please don't feel like there's any pressure, but promise me you'll think about it? The whole Norse thing?"

I looked up at her deep blue eyes, filled with the wisdom of living too many years and experiencing too many things.

"I will," I promised.