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They’re standing in New Rome, surrounded by beautiful fountains, classic buildings, and potentially dangerous Roman demigods. A small, seemingly insignificant weight lies in her pocket,
The four travelers from Camp Half-Blood are standing in a straight line. Leo and Piper standing shoulder to shoulder, which is easy considering they’re practically the same height. Jason stood half a step further than the other two, wrapped in his purple bed sheet, his golden hair glinting in the sunlight, his electric-blue eyes focused on the woman in front of him.
She’s probably around Annabeth’s age. Black hair falling over her shoulder in a perfect braid, black eyes glinting with forced confidence.
Reyna.
Jason had told them of her, a girl that had taken him under her wing, an older sister/mother figure of sorts. It was because of that information that Annabeth noticed that Reyna’s eyes were only half focused on sizing up Annabeth, occasionally looking over Jason as though cataloging every detail of him to memory.
One part of Annabeth’s brain, the one that she liked to think of as her ADHD part, was taking in all of this information, cataloging it for future reference. However, a much different, and larger part of Annabeth was zeroed in on him .
There have been many reunions between Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson over the years.
The time when he saved her from Mount Othrys; the time that he crashed his own funeral; the time when he had been incapacitated when she went into labor, and managed to get there just in time to save Grover from a broken hand.
Annabeth remembers each of those memories in vivid detail, holding each moment close to her heart. A lifetime of disappointment when it came to people sticking around had taught her to never take a single second with the ones she loved for granted.
As corny as it sounds, these memories served as a reminder that no matter the pain, no matter the situation, as long as they were together they could get through it, stronger.
Maybe that’s why seeing him for the first time after six months apart was like being doused with cold water.
Salt water, of course.
He was standing at the edge of the crowd of Romans. His sea-green eyes, the ones that she had missed so much, pinned her in place in a way that not even gods or titans could. He’s smiling at her, the same smile that has equally annoyed her and endeared her since she first saw it at twelve years old while covered in toilet water.
Percy’s hair is longer, curls falling down his forehead. It could just be an effect from the cape that he’s wearing, but Percy appears broader, more muscular than she remembers. He hadn’t been out of shape six months ago, but it had been a long time since either of them had dedicated a large amount of time towards training.
The weight in her pocket grows heavier the longer that she stares at him.
Reyna speaks up, fully turning to face Jason, a look that one could almost call warm flashing across her face. “Jason Grace, my former colleague.” A small smile twitches across her face as she says the word ‘colleague’. “I welcome you home. And these, your friends—”
Don’t ask her which of them moves first, because she honestly won’t be able to tell you. All that she knows is that one moment Annabeth is staring at Percy from a distance, and the next, she is flinging herself into his arms and eagerly pressing their lips together, her hands running through his dark hair, knocking the laurel wreaths askew.
Percy’s lips are salty. His smell (the scent of a rainstorm when the sun is still out) permeates her senses, and she relishes it after so long having only his pillow to breathe in.
My Seaweed Brain, she thinks, one hand in his hair, the other clutching his shoulder as they finally part for breath.
Percy’s hands are on her face, touching her reverently, like she was something to be treasured. Annabeth’s left hand slides down from his shoulder to rest on his forearm, tracing the lines of one of his tattoos.
“Gods,” Percy whispers, and she feels a knot in her chest loosen at hearing his voice. “I never thought--”
Annabeth’s grip tightens on his arm, and she flips him over her shoulder, six months of buried anger flaring within her.
She had been so angry these last few months. Angry at the gods. Angry at feeling like a single mother. Angry at being left alone by the one person that she had always believed would never leave her.
It wasn’t his fault. She knew that. But it wasn’t like she could go around judo flipping Hera.
On second thought, if she ever got her hands on Hera, she would do a lot worse than judo flip her.
Distantly, she hears Reyna shout, “Hold! Stand down!”
A small part of Annabeth’s brain comes to the conclusion that the Romans probably believed that Annabeth, an apparent enemy camper, was attacking one of their own.
They didn’t know that the two of them had been practicing this same move since they were children. That Percy had long since perfected the right way to fall and be thrown.
They didn’t know that Annabeth wouldn’t hurt him. Annabeth would never hurt him.
Percy knows that she would never hurt him, which is why he smiles as he looks up at her. Years of love and understanding shining in his damned, beautiful eyes.
Percy knows that Annabeth would never hurt him, the same way that Annabeth knows that Percy would never hurt her.
She digs inside her pocket and pulls out the small copper band that she has been carrying around every day for the last six months. She sees Percy’s eyes light up as he recognizes the band that a group from Hephaestus’ cabin had welded for him almost seven years ago.
“You swore that you would never take this off.” Annabeth is actually quite proud of how steady her voice sounds. “You broke that promise.”
“Technically, I’m pretty sure that I wasn’t the one that took it off.” Percy says softly. However, he raises his left hand, and silently asks her to do the honors.
Despite her earlier actions, Annabeth slides the ring onto his fourth finger with gentleness. “If you ever leave me again,” her voice is starting to crack, her eyes are stinging, “I swear to all the gods—”
Percy had the nerve to laugh. A beautiful sound that knocks the breath out of her faster than any judo flip.
“Consider me warned,” Percy whispers. “I missed you, too.”