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Everything had to be perfect.
Annabeth Chase was nothing if not a perfectionist. She was uptight, fastidious, determined, hell maybe even a complete control freak. She knew what she wanted and how she wanted it done.
Hosting her first ever Thanksgiving dinner was no exception.
See, Thanksgiving had never been her favorite holiday. She ran away at age seven, spending most of her time at Camp Half Blood. Her most vivid memories of the holiday were elaborate spreads in the dining pavilion. Maybe the occasional cornucopia.
But things were much different now. Now was the time to start building traditions. To build something permanent.
Granted, being twenty-eight weeks pregnant was not ideally the time most would throw themselves into hosting a large event for the first time, but Annabeth had never shied away from a challenge.
She was going to be a mom. The thought was absolutely terrifying. But she wanted more than anything to be able to give her child the things she’d never had.
Family. Their baby would have it, even if it wasn’t entirely by blood.
“So where is this going?”
Her introspection was interrupted by the voice of her husband, who was currently holding a large folding table in his arms, looking just about ready to drop it.
Annabeth threw her arms up with exasperation. “Percy! I told you four times. Den. Here, just let me.” She reached out to grab the table from him.
“Hey, whoa whoa!” Percy veered sideways so she couldn’t grasp the table. “Be serious, Wise Girl. This is the definition of heavy lifting!”
“Only if you’re a wimp.” She shrugged.
His eyes narrowed. “You really are a ray of sunshine when you’re stressed.”
“I am not stressed.” She followed him through the doorway to the den, where he set the table down with a relieved exhale.
“Sure sure.” Percy mused as he unfolded the legs and straightened the table in the center of the room. “You’re super relaxed and easygoing.”
Annabeth was no longer listening. He’d set the table down unbearably crooked, so she quickly scurried forward to amend his error. Once she’d slid it properly into place, she straightened up and saw him staring at her. His hands were placed firmly on his hips, expression pointed.
“It was crooked!” She exclaimed.
“Annabeth.” Percy took a step closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. They couldn’t get as close as he’d like, surely, with her round belly between them. But close enough for him to brush a lock of hair behind her ear and caress her cheek. “Why are you putting so much pressure on yourself? It’s just our friends.”
Annabeth didn’t know how to explain it to him. Even though Percy knew her better than anyone, understood her most intimate thoughts and emotions, she felt a little silly. How could she make him understand that this stupid Thanksgiving dinner felt like her first major task as a mom? Her first attempt to secure a family tradition for their baby, so that she’d never have to wonder what it felt like to have a normal family.
It wasn’t exactly something she could put into words.
“It just needs to be perfect.” She replied simply.
His green eyes studied her face intensely, and she began to fidget under his gaze. Sometimes Percy was more perceptive than he let on, too perceptive.
Before he could dig deeper, she spoke. “Did you check the turkey?”
“Yes my dear, it’s cooking perfectly. Leo will be bringing the vegetarian platter. Nico and Will are bringing the rolls, Pipes and Jason are on booze -which you and I will not be partaking in- and Hazel and Frank have offered to bring stuffing.”
Annabeth frowned. “I’m making stuffing.”
“Well you’re pretty much doing everything and they didn’t want to show up empty handed.”
She ran her hands together nervously. “Were they worried mine wouldn’t taste right?”
“Wise Girl?”
“Yeah?”
“Chill out, okay? It’s Thanksgiving. It’ll be fun.”
Sighing, Annabeth had to concede he was right. It would do her well to…chill out. “What time will your family be here?”
“Four fifteen, with everyone else. It’s all gonna go great.” He squeezed her arms and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Just take a deep breath and stop stressing. I don’t want my kid to come out a lawyer.”
Annabeth scowled. “If she’s anything like you she’ll love to argue anyway.”
“Not today, Wise Girl. Not today. I’m gonna go see these tables!” Percy offered her a dry smile and bounded off to fulfill the list of tasks she’d given him last night.
Annabeth sighed again and went to go check her turkey.
It was at precisely 3:15, when Annabeth smelled the worst thing she could have imagined.
She’d truly been through horrible things. Nightmarish quests, battles, even the pits below the underworld. She’d smelled death, blood, all of the disgusting odors the world had to offer.
Nothing could’ve prepared her for the smell of burning an hour before she had guests set to arrive.
She was in the middle of vacuuming the living room a third time, despite her husband's protests that it was fine, when something infiltrated her nostrils.
The pie!
In a hurry, she clicked off the vacuum and let it fall, rushing as quickly as she could into the kitchen. What she saw was the worst scenario she could’ve imagined. Dark plumes of smoke pillowed out from the oven, where her apple and pumpkin pies were both baking. She was so invested in vacuuming, she hadn’t heard the timer go off.
Frantically, she pulled the oven open and reached in for the first pie tin, completely forgetting to grab an oven mitt. She let out a cry of shock at the initial pain, but powered through and dumped the smoking tin into the sink. She ran back for the second and did the same, not bothering to stop for a mitt. Then, she clicked off the oven and was relieved no fire was visible.
Before she could head to the sink and assess the damage, Percy appeared in the doorway, wide eyed. “What happened?” He glanced at the oven. “Smells burnt. Did I hear you yell?”
“Just a hot pan.” She assured him gently, glancing at her hand. With a grimace, she realized the skin was peeling and red. The tin must’ve been more hot than she realized.
“Annabeth!” Percy rushed forward and gently took her hand in his, turning it over to gape at the wound. “You’re burnt! Why wouldn’t you call for me? You shouldn’t even be inhaling this smoke. Did you put on an oven mitt?”
“There wasn’t time.” She insisted. “Can you let go? I need to see if the pies are salvageable.”
He stared at her with disbelief. “Get out of the kitchen, now.”
“Percy-“
“Nope. Uh-uh. You’re having an Annabeth moment and as much as I adore you, you need to take five. Go to the living room and I’ll be right there with the burn cream.”
“But the p-"
“Annabeth Jackson I swear to all the gods-“
“Alright alright! Sheesh. Don’t need to full name me.” She scowled, shoving past him to exit the kitchen, even though she was itching to rush back to the sink and examine her pies.
Sitting down heavily on the couch, she glanced at the clock with anxiety tingling her spine. They only had an hour before the guests showed up. Her pies needed to be okay. This had to be perfect.
Percy rejoined her then with burn cream and gauze tucked under his arm. He knelt in front of the couch and held his hand out expectantly. Shoulders heaving, Annabeth placed her palm in his.
“It doesn’t even hurt.” She insisted. It wasn’t entirely true, but it was certainly one of the least severe injuries she’d ever had.
Percy’s eyes didn’t move from where they were locked on her burned hand. He began cleaning the wound, gently applying the burn cream.
“Will you please talk to me?” He asked after a few beats of quiet. “Cause normally I can translate your crazy actions and figure out what you’re thinking. Maybe I’m off my game today, but I just can’t understand why you’re so worried about today going perfectly. It’s just our friends. We see them all the time.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn’t sure what to say.
“Is this a pregnancy thing?” Percy inquired as he tenderly wrapped her hand with gauze. “Nesting? Hormones? Mood swings? Help me understand, Annabeth.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean you can attribute all of my erratic behavior to it.”
“Oh I don’t.” He shook his head. “Erratic behavior is your style. I’m just trying to figure out if being pregnant has heightened that. Also, way to admit you’re acting erratically.”
Annabeth lifted her gauze-wrapped hand, studying his sloppy attempt at bandaging.
“I’ll have Will redo it when he gets here.” Percy said, as if reading her mind.
“Thank you.” She glanced at him a bit bashfully. “That was stupid of me. I should have called for you. To help. Smoke… smoke isn’t good for the baby, I don’t think.”
“Not good for the Annabeth either.” He got to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. “Will you clue me in, Wise Girl? I’m starting to worry about you.”
“I’m okay.” She assured him, clamoring to her feet with a bit of difficulty. “I’m just a good host. Diligent.”
“That’s all?” He demanded, eyeing her warily. “There’s nothing we maybe need to talk about?”
For a beat, she debated trying to explain her feelings to him. He was after all, the most understanding and caring man on the planet. Maybe he could help talk her through this.
No, she thought, nothing is wrong. I just want to start a perfect tradition for my child. I just want to be a good mom. That isn’t a bad thing.
“There’s nothing more.” She assured him.
Percy seemed reluctant. “There’s a zero percent chance you’re telling me the truth right now. But if you don’t want to talk about it…” he shrugged. “I’m just gonna have to babysit you all day I guess.”
“Excuse me?”
“I did all my tasks on the list. I will now be on Annabeth-watch to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Like grab a burning pie tin.”
“My pie!” She’d almost forgotten about her baking debacle. She needed to see if they were too burnt to salvage.
Annabeth whirled on her heel and made for the kitchen. She heard her husband sigh and follow after her.
When she made it to the sink, her heart dropped into her stomach. No no no no this couldn't be happening! The tops of both pies were blackened to an inedible crisp, charred remains of ash decorating her carefully crafted lattice crust. It had taken her nearly an hour to get that apple pie perfectly crusted!
You ruined Thanksgiving! Her brain screamed at her. All those years of having no family to celebrate it with, turns out that doesn’t matter. You can’t even bake a pie! How are you going to be a good mom?
Annabeth tried to think strategically, but she wanted to break down crying. Shame overwhelmed her. How could she possibly start good, motherly traditions if she couldn't even bake a damn pie? Maybe all she’d ever be good for was demigod crap. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this.
“Annabeth?” Percy’s voice was gentle. “I’m sensing some… bad vibes.”
That was putting it mildly. It was everything she had not to collapse into a ball on the floor.
“I ruined it.” She managed, her voice weaker than she’d expected.
“It’s just pie, okay? I’ll call my mom and have her pick some up on their way over. It’s okay.”
“I ruined it, Percy.” Annabeth shook her head, gripping the counter for stability. “I can’t even bake some stupid pies.”
“Babe, what? Hey, so you burned some pies, it’s okay. You were just doing too much.”
“How am I supposed to be a good mom if I can’t multitask?” She demanded.
“Annabeth-”
“You don’t get it.” Annabeth was vaguely aware that the octave of her voice was reaching a slightly hysterical note, but she didn’t care. She felt overwhelmed, ashamed, like a failure.
Percy took a step closer and reached out to pry her hand off the counter. He squeezed her palm, studying her face, until something like realization passed over his expression. “You don’t think you have to put on this perfect Thanksgiving show to be a good mom, right? Tell me I’m misunderstanding.”
“It’s-its not as simple as that.” She insisted. She was humiliated to realize her breaking voice was about to give way to tears. “Percy I…”
He was looking at her with those big green eyes, so full of worry and concern, so loving. That face, that handsome, perfect face that she’d seen grow from a dorky twelve-year old boy, into a striking man, those dark waves of hair, those goddamn beautiful green eyes.
He was there, perfect, patient, Percy. And she was ruining everything.
Annabeth didn’t realize she was sobbing until Percy’s thumb gingerly wiped wetness from her cheek, and his arms pulled her in. She cried into his shirt, effectively ruining the blue-button down she’d made him wear. His hands gently carded through her tangled curls, and he murmured quiet comforts, allowing her to weep against his chest.
When she glanced up at the clock next, it was 3:45. They were running out of time. But every muscle in her body felt fatigued. Her brain was basically radio static. Her burned hand ached and she couldn’t stop the tears from running down her shirt collar.
“Annabeth?” Percy prompted softly.
She glanced up at him through watery eyes.
“I’m not asking, I’m telling.” He told her in a kind, but stern voice. “Go upstairs and lay down. I will handle the pie, and the rest of the cleaning, and the prep. Don’t come down until I come get you.”
She bristled instantly. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
His eyebrow arched. “You’d rather tell me what’s on your mind?”
Annabeth deflated. She definitely did not want to tell him what was on her mind.
“Fine.” She muttered, untangling herself from his arms reluctantly. She lamented the lack of contact, but had to admit, she was feeling pretty weary.
“I love you.” Percy added as she made for the staircase. He looked like he was about to move forward to help her up the steps.
“I love you too.” She waved him off dismissively and began her ascent toward their bedroom.
-
Annabeth found herself drifting into a restless sleep.
Dreams could sometimes be a plague, even as an adult demigod who didn’t much wrestle with the world of Olympus anymore. Today, her stuffy nap was weighed down by dreams of her childhood, despite how much she didn’t want them to come.
She dreamt of spiders crawling in her bed, she dreamt of her step mother’s unhappy expression, she dreamt of standing outside a neighborhood boundary with Thalia and Luke, watching the Christmas lights in amazement.
She dreamt of loneliness and not belonging. She was a child with nowhere to go, no real family except the two other kids who took her under their wings. One of whom died, and the other… a betrayal so visceral she still could hardly bear to think of it. Nothing stayed. Everyone left her.
Her dream changed then, and she found herself staring at a young girl. She wore a pair of blue pajamas, and had an abundance of tangled blonde curls. Her eyes were seagreen, dimples in her cheeks accenting a delighted laugh.
The girl rushed forward. Annabeth thought she was running toward her, but the girl bypassed her. Annabeth turned and saw Percy, bending down to scoop the girl up into his arms. It strangely looked so natural, him with the little girl in his embrace. He kissed the top of her head, and then glanced over at Annabeth.
“C’mon babe.” Percy extended his hand for her to take.
“Me?” Annabeth asked.
“Mommy!” The girl threw her own arms out, beckoning Annabeth forward. “Come on! It’s time for Thanksgiving!”
Mommy…
Annabeth accepted Percy’s hand, warm and familiar in her own. He led her through a doorway into a dining room. The table was empty.
“There’s no food.” She observed with a frown.
“That isn’t what matters.” Percy said quietly. His eyes were locked on her face.
“What matters?” Annabeth’s voice was hollow.
Percy smiled, and passed the young girl over. Annabeth quickly adjusted and took her in her arms. The girl wrapped her arms around Annabeth's neck. In that moment, strangely, Annabeth felt utterly complete. She could tell the girl felt safe in her arms, that she had no doubts in her mind of how much Annabeth loved her. That she was the most important thing in the world.
“I love you mommy!” The girl cooed.
“This.” Percy said. “This is what matters. Not making the perfect traditions, or having everything planned to a T. Just our love for each other, and that will never run out.”
Annabeth really wanted to see what happened next, but unfortunately, a fragmenting shard of reality broke through her mind. Someone was gently shaking her shoulder.
“Hmm?” Her eyes opened groggily, and she stared up into the handsome face from her dreams.
“Hey babe.” Percy swept a lock of blonde hair off her forehead. “How was your nap?”
“Mmm….” she groaned, “how long was I out? How much time do we have left?”
“It’s almost five now.” Percy replied.
She took a moment to process his words. “Huh?! Is everyone late?!”
“No, no. Everyone’s downstairs playing charades. The potatoes will be ready in five minutes, so I figured I’d come wake you up before we eat.”
Confusion and lingering sleep clouded her mind. “They’re here… why didn’t you wake me earlier!”
“I thought about it.” He admitted. “Even came up here. But you were snoring like a wildebeest and I knew you needed the rest.”
Her cheeks burned red. “Oh my god. I’m the worst host in the world, I’ve been asleep for half the party.”
“Our friends have helped us save the world. I think they understand that a pregnant woman needs some rest.” Percy reminded her lightly.
“I don’t-”
“Annabeth, before we argue about whether or not you’re a normal human who needs to sleep, can we please talk about what happened today?” Percy’s expression grew somber.
She sighed heavily. This would be unpleasant, but at the very least, she owed him an explanation. After her nap she was feeling… she wasn’t sure, more calm?
“Um, listen…” Annabeth cleared her throat uncomfortably. “You know how I ran away young… didn’t have much in the way of family.”
His eyebrows set. “Yes.”
“Well… that sort of meant I never really got holidays. No traditions or anything. Just camp stuff.”
Understanding crossed through his eyes. “Annabeth…”
“I just thought if I could make this perfect, start this tradition before she’s here… I don’t know. She’d never have to feel the way I did.” Annabeth blinked rapidly to dispel the tears threatening her. She didn’t feel like crying again. “I get that it’s stupid, or irrational, I just…I’m so scared to be a mom. To be responsible for a person’s entire life. What if I screw it up like my parents did?”
“I get it.” Percy assured her. “I’m scared too, really scared. This will definitely be a new quest for both of us.” He offered her a small smile, and reached out to take her hand. “But you are nothing like any of those people who call themselves your parents. You are brave, and kind, and so selfless sometimes it really frightens me.”
“No, you are.” She argued instantly. It was an age-old debate between the two of them, both thinking the other was the most generous person in the world.
“Rubber, glue.” Percy waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter. I know you’re going to be an amazing mother, because I know you. And not just that you’re amazing at everything you do. But I know you, Annabeth. Who you are.” He scooched closer beside her on the bed. “You’re the girl who put herself in danger to help others so many times, I’ve lost count. You’re the girl who didn’t let all the horrible things make you bitter or angry. You’ve stayed kind, and good from head to toe. You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met. This kid is so damn lucky to get you as a mom, she won’t know what hit her. Even if you burn a couple of pies.”
She smiled, glancing down bashfully at her lap.
“This isn’t going anywhere.” He finished quietly. “Me, the baby, everyone downstairs. We all love you so much. This is life now, okay? This is our family. You don't have to build it, it just is. And it’s permanent. It’s forever.”
His words washed over her like a soothing wave on a sandy shore. Her shoulders relaxed, and she leaned into his touch. He smelled, as always, crisp and clean, with the faintest whiff of sea breeze. Her Seaweed Brain. Always right there when she needed him. Always managing to say the perfect thing in decidedly imperfect situations.
“Thank you.” Annabeth wiped at her eyes, wincing as her bandaged hand pulsed with aching pain.
“How’s the hand?” He asked gently.
“Hurts.” She admitted.
“Why don’t we go have Will take a look at it?” Percy suggested. “Nico is kicking his ass at charades anyway. His word was shadow.”
Annabeth laughed, accepting Percy’s hand as he helped pull her to her feet. He gave her a squeeze and leaned in to press a quick kiss to her lips.
Things had definitely not gone the way she was hoping today, but as they headed for the staircase and she heard the laughter of their friends and family downstairs, Annabeth felt like that was okay.
It was just like Percy had said, in her dream. This is what matters. His hand in hers, their baby safely on her way, their loved ones killing each other over French party games.
It didn’t have to be perfect. It just had to be this.