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Percy spent four weeks in the Acheron’s river. About three minutes in, Annabeth is trying to kill herself.
She thought if she went trough the same trauma, she would understand. Why Percy left, nine days after they found him. Why he started murdering Gaia’s army, even the human ones. Especially, why he slaughtered Hera.
She heard that when they found the goddess there had been so much blood. Ichor, golden liquid everywhere in a ten meters circumference around the wretched, mutilated form of what used to look like a woman but was now nothing but a small drop of pitiable divinity.
She had chased him down even when Chiron had admitted that Percy was no longer one of them. Neither a fighter of the olympian, nor even a demigod.
She had finally caught him at the Brooklyn Bridge’s battle, but it wasn’t him anymore.
Annabeth had tried to tell him that she loves him and to bring him home, but even as she said the words, she couldn’t hear herself over the insanely loud sound of her own, terrified heartbeat.
He had looked straight at her with a vacant, inexpressive stare. Covered in the blood of several dozens species, unconcerned by the violence he had just unleashed. She had ran towards him on shaky legs, and he had pushed her back with an inhuman strength. When she woke up a few days later, Grover told her between uncontrollable sobs that he had left her on the collapsing bridge to die.
So she thought going in the river was the only way to understand how could sweet, kind, loyal and unbelievably gentle Percy be turned into this monster. She had been fine with dying. She couldn’t live in a world where good people can be destroyed on the whim of an arrogant deity anymore.
This was a terrible mistake.
It’s not like those cute ‘’attack you on your biggest fears’’ psychological test that the Gods usually throw at them. It’s simple, not particularly painful, quiet and smooth. As she’s drowning and not drowning, this constant, nagging, omnipresent reminder ‘’You’re nothing, you don’t exist, you don’t matter.’’ And the first two seconds she’s like ‘’what else is new’’ but then the truth of it breaks all of her barriers and she’s left unable to keep going. She keeps seeing all the other demigods that lived, suffered, fought and died before her leaving everyone uncaring and unbothered. ‘’Why endure so much ?’’ The soft voice says in her mind ‘’It’s useless, no one cares, why keep going ?’’
Five minutes in and she’s begging to die, to just dissolve in the crimson, thick, liquid of the stream. Why won’t they let her disappear ? Stop it, stop it, stop it, please.
She feels someone grab her under the shoulders and then she’s back on the shore. She can’t hear or see anything, so there is just the unpleasant, coarse, disgusting sand to remind her where she is. It’s really confusing, because she had been somewhat convinced to be at least a hundred meters deep in water, but she had been drowning in a puddle.
Annabeth chokes and convulses, spiting nothing but still feeling unable to breath. She’s been maneuvered in a kneeling position and that does help her body realize that there is, in fact, no liquid in her lungs.
She’s cold. She’s cold and completely naked, but then she’s wrapped in a large, warm cloak. Her face feels really wet and it takes her a long time to understand that it’s tears. She’s crying so much that she can’t hold her own weight, and she lets herself fall on her side until she is caught by strong hands. She’s been propped against someone’s chest and then they try to make her drink from a flask. She spits it out and attempts to push the hands away. She doesn’t want that, doesn’t want to live, why won’t you let me die ? The man grabs her face and kisses her, and she goes completely pliant.
Percy forces the nectar in her mouth with his, in a forceful, ruthless kiss. It tastes like blue cake. He holds her head and shoulders, leaving her no room to escape. He pulls away, puts some more liquid between his lips, and kisses her again. He’s less harsh, softer, as she yields completely and relaxes all her muscles into his hands. She’s in so much shock, she doesn’t even think about asking questions.
She grabs a hold of leather armor when he lifts her up.
Sobbing in the crook of his neck, she feels the steady, soothing rhythm of his heartbeat. He walks slowly for a few minutes and then he lowers her on a bed. She realizes he might leave and panics, refusing to let go of his clothes. She tries to speak, but her mouth won’t produce anything coherent, and it’s even harder because she can’t hear herself.
He can’t just leave her naked, blind and deaf. Alone, here.
He grabs her wrists as if he wanted to make her let go, but he doesn’t. The mattress dips as he sits next to her. He lets her hold him still until she quiets down.
She doesn’t relax her hard grip though, not even after an hour has passed. She feels him sigh in her neck, and then he grabs her knee and pulls her abruptly enough that she falls backward. She tries to straighten up, but he pushes her shoulders down and put his forearm around her in a constricting hug, lying down behind her.
She’s so relieved and thankful as he covers them both with a blanket. Even as his arm is very close to her neck, almost choking her, she can’t bring herself to be scared. She wouldn’t be able to defend herself with her lack of sensory functions anyway. Also, he still smells the same. Like vanilla, but with an edge of saltiness. It makes her cry harder.
She shivers when he slides a hand under the cloak that covers her. He just presses on her back gently until she’s lying on her stomach, her tears soaking the pillow. His fingers grazes over her back carefully.
When Percy had gotten out of the river, she had been alarmed to see the Acheron’s scar on him. It looked like he had been chewed by an enormous shark. She hadn’t known then, that it was the least of the damages.
The scar on her must be quiet small, compared to his. It doesn’t even hurt, although she senses that there is a rugged patch of skin there now. She snuggles closer to him, relishing in the touch, feeling awfully pathetic. But Percy doesn’t harm vulnerable people, on that she wants to believe he hasn’t changed.
She falls asleep for what could be an hour or a second, and when she opens her eyes she can see. The wall is made of white wood. She also hears the sound of the raging sea, although the boat doesn’t seem to be moving an inch as a result.
With anyone, Annabeth would be reassured, knowing that someone must be driving it. But Percy could totally have ordered some sea animals to drag the ship to the camp and just swam away. She stands up hastily, but her legs give out and she collapses on the floor. She scowls, mentally ordering her muscles to function. It takes her a while but she finally manages to stand completely. She holds the cloak on her body with one hand and keeps the other one on the wall for support as she stumbles through the hallway.
She climbs on the deck, panting breathlessly. Percy had slept for five days straight after he went in the stream, and now she can see why.
Its freaking freezing outside, there must be some kind of magic at work to make it so warm in the cabins. The whole floor is covered in a thick layer of ice, it hurts her naked feet.
She realizes that she has to crawl otherwise she will fall and probably break her neck. It’s even more uncomfortable to touch the frozen floor with her hands and knees, she grits her teeth to stop them from chattering. She barely manages to move two step forward before she bumps into a pair of legs. She had not seen him approach with the wind sending her hair right into her face.
She’s about to say something like ‘’Why are we sailing to Antarctica ?’’ or, ‘’Could you help me up ?’’ or, ‘’It’s a nice ice rink you got there’’ but he grabs her by the elbows and make her stand up. The movement startles her so much she lets go of the cloak which stays on the ground.
She blushes as she meets his eyes, and tries to make him let go of her arms so she can grab the clothe to cover herself. He doesn’t, frowning with a severe expression she has never seen on his face before. ‘’What are you doing here ?’’ He sounds exasperated.
Annabeth might pass out from the cold or from or from sheer embarrassment. She reflexively curls in on herself to hide and he looks down and seems to notice only now that she’s naked.
Instead of giving her the damn cloak, he pushes her backward, still holding her elbows, until she’s back inside. It does feel considerably better in terms of temperature and she can finally unclench her jaw enough to shout with a high-pitched voice ‘’Give me something to wear, now !’’
He sighs, rolling his eyes like she’s being childish, and lets go of her to reach for his jacket.
She hadn’t noticed how much she was leaning on him and she stumbles forward, catching his waist for support. She blushes even more, whispering ‘’Sorry.’’ He doesn’t answer, letting her use his right hand as a crutch as he shrugs off his jacket. He helps her put it on, and it’s quiet disturbing how much he looks unfazed by her naked body.
She’s looking down, feeling even more exposed now that Percy has dressed her. He speaks first ‘’What were you doing in the river ?’’
She shakes her head, ‘’I was trying to..’’ She doesn’t know anymore. Save him ? Understand him ? Go through the same thing that he did like to help with the trauma, like he did for her in Tartarus ? Even back then she had known Percy has a darkness inside him, a capacity to use violence which had scared her. If she’s honest with herself, she’s always known that to some extent. She feels so guilty not to have helped him overcome it, to have used his strength and let the Gods do so too, rather than encourage him to rely more on her.
‘’I thought maybe it would help me understand you.’’ A tear falls on the floor between them. She hates that she’s crying again, she wishes she could reason with him rather than explode in feelings whenever she sees him.
‘’Stop it. Stop that.’’ His tone is brutal. She can’t tell if he really hates her of if he tries to push her away. She nods automatically, like she does when Chiron gives her and order, but then she says ‘’I won’t’’, because she wants to be honest with him at least.
He grabs her head and she almost excepts to be slapped, but he forces her to look back at him. His green eyes are full of despair. ‘’Enough, Annabeth, just let me go.’’ He begs.
She kisses him then, has to kiss him otherwise she might never stop crying.
He doesn’t respond, remains motionless against her, and she pushes even more against his lips until it’s bruising with force.
She doesn’t know what to do to make him accept how much she needs him. She puts a hand under his t-shirt, feeling the dozens of scars on his abs. His body is really hot compared to her fingers, the touch must be very unpleasant, but he’s still not moving.
Annabeth has to back down to breathe. ‘’Please’’ She whimpers, ‘’Please, Percy.’’
She loses balance again. And, again, he catches her. It’s easy to play on his weakness, to let herself relax and fall until he has to lift her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and he supports her with an arm under her thighs. His jacket only covers her top half like this. The skin contact is the most intimate thing they ever had, the most unguarded she’s ever been, but she trusts him, still.
She hugs his shoulders and relishes in his heath. She expects him to bring her to her cabin, but instead he takes her to the infirmary. He’s completely silent as he sits her on the stretcher. He unzips the jacket, takes it off her. She blushes again but lets him, lets him push on her neck until she has her head on his chest and her back is exposed. He applies a healing salve on the injury, like she had did for him back when he was unconscious and she had stayed next to him at all time until Will had finally letted her do the medical stuff.
He asks softly in her ear ‘’Aren’t you scared of me ?’’
She thinks back of the hundred of dead bodies, covered by a thick layer of monster dust, she had found while she was chasing him. ‘’I am.’’ She admits. ‘’But I still love you, and I still trust you. And I won’t leave you.’’ He drags his nail on the sensitive skin of her back, until he reaches her throat, like a warning. ‘’You should.’’ He says, but there is no threat in it.
He kisses her neck with his mouth open, and she moans softly, moving her head to allow him easier access. His tongue licks her pulse, where it’s beating madly. ‘’I didn’t wanted to live anymore, I wanted to die.’’ She tells him, burying her fingers in his black hair to keep him close, as he stills. ’’But when you held me, it reminded me why I wanted to fight, why I never gave up.’’
She swallows another sob. ‘’I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you. That I wasn’t enough.’’
He runs his hand over her whole body as if to check she’s completely undamaged. ‘’You were. You are.’’ His voice is so low she can barely hear him. ‘’But I was done playing by the rules. Holding back and being fair. If they know you’re with me, the Gods will punish you too when the war is over.’’
‘’Don’t they dare.’’ Her own voice sounds so resentful. They both know what they took from them, all it had costed them to be good children. ‘’I won’t let them.’’
‘’I need.’’ He moves closer until she has to open her legs lo let him her hug tightly. ‘’I need to know that you’re safe, ‘Beth.’’
She laughs without humor ‘’I’ll never be. Even less, if I don’t fight at your sides.’’
The feeling of his entire body against hers is so overwhelming that she almost wants to push back against him, to get even closer. She doesn’t feel like nothing when they’re like this, fuck this damn river.
Maybe he does feel the same though, because when he kisses her again, she feels him smile against her lips, as his tears mixes with hers.