Chapter Text
There was a weird chill in the air. The smell of calla lilies wafted in the small but homey room. Percy Jackson just got goosebumps. He swore. He knows this smell. It used to irritate him just thinking about the time this made him and Annabeth lose time with each other.
"Why is she here? It's 2 in the morning?" Quipped Annabeth groggily. Percy smiled and closed his eyes again, wishing that all of this was a nightmare. "Lemme sleep, please!"
"I need help."
Percy Jackson groaned, "What the fuck? If this is another quest, I just wanna say that I'm retired. I don't have time for all your games." He buried himself deeper into the warmth of their blankets. The soft scent of Annabeth's shampoo still lingering on the pillow. The room was dim, bathed in the bluish glow from the streetlights outside. He could even hear some drunk college kids laugh crying in the distance.
Standing near the window, bathed in moonlight, was Hera. The Queen of the Gods. Not in her normal flowing Olympian robes, but in a sharply tailored white pantsuit, her hair pinned back in a severe braid. Her mere presence felt like winter had swept through their tiny off-campus apartment: cold, unforgiving, regal.
Annabeth Chase-Jackson sat upright in bed, golden hair mussed from sleep, pulling on a gray hoodie over her Camp Half-Blood shirt. Her stormy gray eyes narrowed in confusion and irritation. "You’re kidding me. In our apartment?"
The goddess didn’t budge. "I need assistance, how many times must I mention this."
Percy peeked from under the blanket, squinting at her silhouette. "You said that already. You know there's, like, a monster hotline at camp now, right? A whole demigod HR team? Plus I'm retired."
"This isn’t about monsters," Hera said coolly. Her voice was polished marble, smooth but impossible to ignore. "This is... marriage counseling."
Annabeth blinked once, slowly not understanding the words the goddess just mentioned. Percy sat up.
"Wait," Annabeth said, brushing a golden curl out of her face. "You want us to help you fix your relationship with Zeus? The guy who might smite us just for you even talking about your it?"
"No," Hera answered quickly, her voice cracking ever so slightly. "I want to know how to leave him—without ripping Olympus apart in the process. And you two...well, you two are the only example I’ve seen where love lasts without fear or obligation."
Percy blinked again, harder this time.
"So... you're asking us for love advice?"
Hera lowered herself delicately onto their worn futon, as if even that mundane act risked cracking her divine poise. She looked smaller sitting there, though no less radiant. "I want freedom. And I want to do it right. I just don’t know what that looks like anymore."
Annabeth turned to Percy, their eyes locking in silent conversation. This wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a quest. Heck, it wasn't even a nightmare. It was something stranger: an Olympian asking for emotional vulnerability. At 2 a.m. Percy just might cry. It was too early for this shit.
Percy rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "We’re gonna need a lot of coffee."
Annabeth stood, stretching slightly before padding into the kitchen. "You’re lucky we bought that new espresso machine."
And that’s how their sleepy college life morphed overnight into divine couples therapy—starting with a marriage that had lasted since the dawn of time.