Archive of Our Own

Annabeth was fussing with Daedulus’s laptop when she heard a knock on her door.

“Come in,” she called out, trying to look for the notes she was taking under the explosion of paper on her desk, “the door’s not locked.”

She was not expecting guests, especially this early in the morning, but these were not usual times. Camp had been in the middle of war preparation for months, and now that she was back, Annabeth could finally assume her position as the lead strategist for the battles to come. The private school her dad sent her to was not that treacherous this time around, but all Annabeth could think of any time she was sitting idly in class amongst mortals was the thousands of scenarios that this war could play out. She would be lying if she said that she saw one in which they would emerge from this battle victorious and unscathed.

“Hey,” a low voice came from behind the door, “thought I’d find you here.”

Annabeth froze in place, her heart somersaulting her chest. Sea-green eyes met hers, a little shy, but as bright and beautiful as she had remembered.

“Percy,” Annabeth croaked dumbly, “you’re here.”

She sprinted straight into his open arms. Annabeth breathed in his familiar sea-salt smell, her heart singing as she buried her face in his chest. He felt… different. He was a few inches taller than her now, chest broad and dependable, arms toned and tanned from years of sword training. His hair looked disheveled as if he had been running, his camp backpack hanging loosely on one shoulder. He smiled into her hair, a little taken aback by her brute force, and let out the most glorious laugh she had ever heard.

“I’m glad to see you too, Wise Girl,” he chuckled, arms wrapping around the small of her back, tightening the hug slightly, “how have you been?”

“Hanging in there,” she pulled away, a little breathless, “with everything going on, you know.”

She realized, a little too late, that it was a dumb thing to say to the Hero of the Prophecy. Percy’s mood turned as turbulent as the sea, eyes dropping onto the floor, avoiding her gaze. 

“Yeah,” he swallowed, “I guess.”

He let go of their hugs, taking a step back to look behind Annabeth’s shoulder.

“Anything good on that laptop?”

“Oh, tons,” she smiled, suddenly embarrassed at the state of her bedroom, “I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of all the ideas he had in here. I’ve been studying it for months.”

“Explain why you didn’t call.”

She stared at him dumbfounded, a hint of hurt flashed through his eyes. She picked at the skin on her fingernails guiltily.

They stood awkwardly for what felt like hours, the weight of all the things left unsaid brewing like a storm waiting to erupt. Last summer, when they parted ways, Percy had asked her to call him. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to! She had picked up the prism so many times during the school year whenever she learned a new fun fact about a building they passed on one of their quests or whenever she found some weird new blue food in the wild. So many days she came home exhausted from everything and wanted nothing more than to see his face smiling through the Iris message. So many nights she had come close to breaking down when nightmares of last summer woke her up in violent jolts and the only thing that chided her back to sleep was knowing that he was safe and sound. 

It was just… Ever since they came back from the labyrinth last summer, Percy had skirted around her like a stranger, and it fucking hurts . Her first time leading a quest and she had failed in all the ways that count. 

To lose a love to worse than death

When Annabeth first received her prophecy from the oracle, she forgot how to breathe.

The gravity of every line sunk her into her pit of stomach. The Child of Athena’s final stand. Destroy with a hero’s final breath. To lose a love to worse than death. 

Final stand. Final breath. Worse than Death. Typical prophecy’s rainbow and sunshine. She had not dwelled on those for long.

It was the last line that she didn’t understand. The last line that haunted her.

A love?

Shit.

They know.

Annabeth had never really known love if she was honest with herself. Her father had loved her, sure, but his love was conditional and fickle, like a candle in the wind, threatened to be blown out by the smallest possible wrong thing that she could do. She had worked all her life to make herself as small and convenient as she could be, packing her own snacks to first grade, taking the bus to school, and eventually, running away to give him a better life. Love to her, just like everything else in her life, was something to be earned.

Then she met Luke and Thalia.

Love became running away from monsters with someone to look out for you. Love became learning how to fight, how to hide, how to call out for help. Love became summer nights laughing in some hideout in the middle of nowhere, starved and bruised and battered but oh so alive. 

Love became a promise: we’ll always be here for you, we’ll always be together, we’ll always be family.

It was the happiest days of her life, that love, no matter how difficult those times were. Being with Luke and Thalia allowed her to be her stubborn, headstrong self. For the first time in her life, love was reciprocated . She had never wanted it to end.

And then, well, Percy.

A four-year-old crush that started innocently enough with this elated excitement from fighting by someone’s side again, the feeling she thought she had lost when Thalia turned into a pine tree and Luke grew distant. A crush that quickly evolved into a tugging desire to lay bare your soul in front of someone, to have your walls down, to let them see your deepest desire and your darkest hubris, and to cry and cry and cry into their arms until your body gives out. A crush that deepened into something she couldn’t understand anymore when he came to save her, despite all her lost hopes, and took the burden of the sky from her shoulder. 

A crush that she was terrified had turned into something more. And now they know.

Annabeth remembered stepping out into the arena in a daze, her heart banging loudly in her ears as she looked for Percy in the crowd. She was suddenly seven years old again, alone and afraid.

When he pressed her about the last line of the prophecy, Annabeth fell apart. 

How could she possibly tell him? How could she possibly tell him that all these confusing, unnamed feelings she had for him could cause him a fate worse than death? How could she possibly begin to explain to him how much he meant to her? 

And the stupid kiss. 

No matter how many times she replayed the events that led to that stupid decision, she still couldn’t pinpoint exactly what compelled her to do such an irrational thing. The pressure of the quest. The unknown of the labyrinth. The very real, very possible scenario that she might lose him for good. His back against her, strong and dependable. None of these things explain why she had the guts to say fuck it and follow her heart for once and jeopardize everything. 

Standing in front of him now, the tension between them as thick as molasses, Annabeth cringed at the mental image, her cheeks flushed. She fiddled with the hem of her camp t-shirt and shifted awkwardly on her feet.

“Um, well, I’m here now” she cleared her throat, “What about you? How’s Goode?”

“I’m not expelled yet, thank the Gods and Paul,” Percy rubbed the back of his neck, turning away from her, “To be honest, the only thing that made it remotely bearable was Rachel being there.”

Rachel was, of course, another sore spot for Annabeth. The beautiful redhead had swept into their quests with clear eyes and bright laughter and did everything Annabeth could not. She was fun and brave and contrasted so heavily with Annabeth’s steely exterior that she couldn’t help but feel all-consumingly inadequate. Her head snapped up, anger rising to her ears. 

“Oh?” Annabeth sneered, “Still got time to run around with your little friend I see?”

Taken aback by Annabeth’s attitude, Percy narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“I don’t know if you have noticed, Percy, but we’re in the middle of a war.” 

“You think I don’t know that? Who do you think is the fucking half-blood of the eldest god here?”

“I don’t know. Could have fooled me with how nonchalant you are with this whole war thing.”

“This whole war thing wouldn’t be happening if your precious Luke hadn’t raised Kronos back from Tartarus and betrayed all of us.” 

She stared wide-eyed at him, hands shooting back in front of her chest, trying hard to swallow down a massive lump forming in her throat. Percy’s knuckle was as white as paper, staring back at her with bloodshot eyes, refusing to back down from her glare.

“Get out,” she whispered shakingly, “ I don’t want to see your face here ever again.”

“Fine by me,” he seethed, storming out with a loud slam on the door.

“FINE!” 

Great . She fumed, tears blurring her vision. This is gonna be a great summer.

⁂

Annabeth has completely fucking lost it. 

First, she broke her promise and never called, even though he waited and waited and waited every day since he came back from camp last summer. Then she had to stand there all tall and cute and so beautiful, the way he had remembered her, but a little different too. 

What the hell is wrong with her?

Seeing Annabeth again after almost a year with nothing but the faded picture he printed out in his binder was driving him insane. You think the Gods are petty? That girl can hold a damn grudge. At this point, Percy couldn’t even remember why they were fighting in the first place. Something about Luke maybe, or Rachel, or Calypso, or Kronos, or him dying, or her siding with the enemy, or Mt. St Helens?

Nope, couldn’t think of a single thing.

He was glad to see her, but it also kind of hurt. He had hoped that the distance and time apart from her would make things normal between them again. That didn’t work for him (he does not feel normal), but you never know with girls, right?

“Dude!”

Percy was so lost in his anger that he walked straight into an unsuspecting Grover standing by the Pegasus stables. The satyr was wearing a green “Panic Attack!” T-Shirt, which Percy thought was the sickest thing ever. He made a mental note to go check out the camp’s supply store later to see if they carry them in blue.

“Percy! Welcome back. Long time no see!”

“Good to see you too my man,” Percy grinned, “Sorry for bumping into you. I was… uh… occupied.”

“I can tell,” Grover nodded slowly, hand stroking his beard, “Are you worried about the war?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I just got back here!”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re like…  anything anyone could talk about these days.”

“That’s news.”

“No, Percy,” Grover shook his head, “You’ve gotta realize… you’re our only hope.”

⁂

For the rest of the week, Percy could not get those words out of his head.

He started noticing things. Small things. The naiads, whose flirting Percy had always subconsciously ignored, started sighing longingly whenever he walked past. Kids in his sword fighting classes would stare at each other whenever he tried making conversations with them. Even the idiots from Ares have eased their teasing completely. 

The absolute worst part of it all was sitting alone at the Poseidon in the Mess Hall, his back tingling with whispers. Percy stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the campers. It wasn’t like he was not used to this treatment the summer he found out he was a son of Poseidon, but this time, it felt completely different. 

No more speculations. No more guesswork on who the Great Prophecy was about. He was, miraculously, turning sixteen against all odds. (Although he shouldn’t speak so early. With his rotten luck, three months is plenty of time for some Gods to change their minds on his odds). He was going to lead them into battle, to stop the Titan’s rise, to restore Olympus, something the Gods can’t even do, or to burn it to the ground and bring upon endless darkness to Western civilization and the world as we know it.

No pressure. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. 

And now, Annabeth, the only one he trusts to discuss all this stuff with, has all of sudden decided that he was the vilest Cyclopes she has ever seen (sorry Tyson) and avoided him like the plague. Here he thought that this summer was going to be different, that their hug would mend all the distance they had last summer. But no. Of course she had to blow up at him again for absolutely no reason, accuse him of not caring about the prophecy when, fuck, it was everything anyone could think about. Of course, she had to switch spots with Clarisse when they were supposed to lead sword lessons together. Of course, she had to spend all her time hole up in her room doing gods know what.

She had fitted so perfectly in his arm. 

Grover was only staying back for a couple of weeks before leaving for the rest of the summer to do Pan stuff. Percy was happy for him, but it felt lonely without Grover and Annabeth, 

Camp was his favorite place in the whole world, next to his mom’s cabin in Montauk and their home on the Upper East Side, but suddenly all he wanted to do was run away. 

The head counselors had started holding council meetings in the Rec Room every Monday morning, led by Annabeth and supervised by Chiron. Following the usual camp order of business, like assigning chore rotations, planning activities, and resolving petty disputes between the cabins (at this particular one, it was a prank that the Hermes cabin had pulled on the Aprophite kids by replacing all the mirrors in the Big House into fun house mirrors and gave them body image issues for a week. Percy admitted it was pretty funny, though mean-spirited), they discussed battle strategy and mission assignments. Annabeth always got heated during these sessions, bringing maps and binders full of research, bossing everyone around, and furrowing her eyebrows, the picture-perfect daughter of Athena. He might have thought she was cute if she didn’t make it her life mission to disagree with every possible idea he brought to the ping-pong table. 

“I can ask my dad for help with sinking the Princess Andromeda .”

“Poseidon has enough on his plate defending his territory against the Titan Oceanus.”

“We should station people near San Francisco, we know their base is in Mount Othrys.”

“It’s too dangerous. We cannot afford to lose more campers.”

“I can help scout more campers.”

“No, we need you here to raise morale and protect you now that every monster on Kronos’s side has a bounty on your head.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Percy stood up from his seat, slamming his hand on the table and glaring at her from across the room, earning an amused eyebrow from Connor Stoll and a disapproving look from Michael Yew.

“You’re our trump card, Percy” Annabeth returned the glare, arms crossed defiantly, “Stay put and wait until your time to fulfill the prophecy.”

“So you want me to do nothing? ”

“Can you manage that? Or should I give you a binder?”

“You’re impossible,” Percy threw up his hands in a fit of frustration and stormed off, “Call me when you need me. If you even do.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. All the whispers, all the responsibilities, 

The cold shoulder Annabeth was giving him. Her cruel words. Her ignoring him

I have to get away. I have to go somewhere where none of this matters. I have to get out of here.

He ran and ran until he passed Thalia’s border, where Peleus was fast asleep. He picked up a cell phone from his backpack and entered in the familiar digits he had committed to heart.

“Hey Rachel,” he said, “You free?”

⁂

Annabeth woke up panting from yet another nightmare.

She hadn’t had a good night's sleep in what felt like years. This was it, the summer of the Great Prophecy. The Summer she had been threatening since she first learned about the damn prophecy all those years ago. For the longest time, the threat of losing Thalia, losing the only family she ever had, the only one who ever cared about her, loomed over Annabeth like a shadow she couldn’t rid of. She had committed every line of the wretched things to heart, turning it over and over again in her mind on sleepless nights, finding a loophole, planning a way out. For the longest time, Annabeth prepared herself for the worst. For the longest time, fearing it was all she ever knew.

Then Thalia died, and came back, and became immortal alongside the hunters. And then Percy showed up. 

Nothing had prepared her for Percy.

Oblivious, impertinent Percy. Loyal, brave Percy. Ever since their first encounter in the camp’s infirmary back when they were twelve, Annabeth had known that he would change the tides for all of them, for better or for worse. Call it her battle intuition or Athena’s gift, she could sense a crucial pawn on the Gods’ chess board when she sees one. He had waltzed through Thalia’s barrier, the minotaur’s horn in his hands, knowing nothing and caring nothing about the Gods. Son of Poseidon. Child of the eldest gods. Reviver of quests. 

Hero of the Prophecy. 

Annabeth sat up from her bed and drank a large gulp of water. No point in trying to go back to sleep now. She stepped out of bed and grabbed the Yankee cap from her nightstand. There was so much to do. She needed to clear her head.

From all her years at camp, Annabeth has figured out the perfect way to avoid the cleaning harpies. Harpies were wind spirits and loathed their nightly duties of eating campers outside after curfew. They mostly hang around the beach where the wind is nice and breezy. She put on her cap and headed towards Zeus’s Fists.

It was weird to think that the place most campers considered cursed was now one of Annabeth’s favorite places to think. She had made a little tradition for herself to put her hand on the pile of rocks whenever she came here at night and send a silent prayer to Daedelius and her mother. She doubted that Athena heard it, with no offerings and all, but it always calmed her down. 

“I’m gonna have to report you to the harpies.”

Annabeth turned around quickly, startled. Her shoulder softened when she realized who the voice belonged to. She should have known that with Juniper’s tree nearby, of course, he would be here.

“Grover, you’re blowing my cover.”

“I think the harpies are sharp enough to smell you sneaking out in the middle of the night,” Grover feigned concern, shaking his head with a tsk tsk tsk.

“Oh shut up, they’ve never caught me before.”

“Using your gift from Athena to break the rules? What did you do to my Annabeth?”

She laughed heartily, nudging him with a scoffed “please”. Grover sat down next to her, back leaning against the rock. 

“Worrying about the prophecy?”

“Have been since I first heard it.”

“I know.”

They both looked beyond the woods to where Thalia’s tree was, sharing a sigh. 

“You know,” Annabeth said wistfully, “even though I’m glad that Thalia isn’t the hero of the prophecy, I’ve always thought that she would make a wonderful one.”

“I can’t disagree with you there,” Grover smiled, “She was the best of us.”

“I thought that the hero, whoever they are, would be the one to allow me to prove myself to the gods,” Annabeth looked up to the sky, “I just didn’t think that he would end up being like Percy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s kind, loyal, brave,” she paused, “a huge idiot sometimes, and gets on my every last nerve…”

“You like him.”

Annabeth blinked at Grover, eyes widened.

“I’m a satyr, I know these things” Grover shrugged, “Besides, you and Percy are my best friends.”

“Is it really that obvious?

“Annabeth, you are the smartest, most logical strategist I know,” Grover said seriously, “but you wear your heart on your sleeves.”

Annabeth pulled her knees close to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I-I’ll get over it eventually,” she breathed shakily, eyes turning back to the stars. Grover stared at her incredulously, 

“What?”

“It’s just… a thing I’m going through, I think,” she shifted uncomfortably, “We’re in the middle of a war. We can’t afford to have me like this.”

“Annabeth, that’s ridiculous,” Grover furrowed his eyebrows, looking directly at her, “You wearing your heart on your sleeves is what makes you the greatest child of Athena of our generation. We would be lost without you.”

“It’s not just that,” she hesitated, “I care about Percy. I don’t think he deserves to be burdened by all these… complications.”

It was the first time that Annabeth had ever put these feelings into words. It felt weirdly like an admission. The weight of her thoughts materializing into something that someone else could hear hit her all at once. She winced.

“Besides, what are the chances of him actually returning my feelings anyway? He’s too much of an idiot and well… I’m… me.”

“Stubborn?”

Annabeth laughed.

“Cold-hearted. Calculating. Prideful. I could never give him a peaceful life like Calypso, or a mortal life like Rachel.”

“That’s not true, Annabeth…”

“You know I’m right. A daughter of Athena is never wrong.”

They kept looking forward in silence. Annabeth closed her eyes and breathed in the summer air. Grover picked at the gravel beneath their feet, humming quietly.

“For what it’s worth,” Grover said suddenly, “this cold war you guys have going on. I’m on your side. Percy’s an idiot.”

“Thanks, Grover,” Annabeth smiled gratefully, “Always good to have people confirm my beliefs.”

“So… are you leaving for another scouting mission tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we got tips that there might be some activities in Philly that I need to check out. I don’t think Percy will be back anytime soon this week. Rachel picked him up last night.”

“Sounds like you’re avoiding him.”

“I’m also helping our cause. I’m nothing if not efficient.”

“You’re not even going to deny it?”

Annabeth stood up, putting her Yankee cap back on and helping Grover up.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” Annabeth smiled gently, “Now come on, let’s head back to the cabins. I think I heard some rustling in the woods earlier. You know the harpies love goats.”

Their laughter faded away into the chilly summer breeze, ringing gently in Percy’s ear. He came out from behind the juniper bushes, inhaling sharply.

“Another scouting mission? She’s got to be kidding, right?”

⁂

One of the perks of being a son of Poseidon -  you can sneak into camp from the beach and no one will suspect a thing. 

Percy was enjoying Sally’s dinner at home when his mind wandered back to cabin three. The summers he spent there. Tyson's homey touches. The state of his room.

The state of his room.

Percy packed his bag. After much pushback from Sally and a lot of gaudy descriptions about what the harpies do to kids who fail room inspection (waivers were signed and they are permitted to eat kids legally), Percy found himself back in Long Island Sound, in the middle of the night, eavesdropping on Annabeth and Grover.

He never pegged himself as one of those people who listens in on their close friend conversations, but something in their hushed tones and the twitching on his right eye told him it definitely involved Percy somehow. 

He missed being a loser. At least no one talked about him.

Percy tried to make out their conversation. Given that he listened in on the end of it, he only got the gist of Annabeth’s confession. The gist was quite enough. 

She was, in fact, actively avoiding him AND going on other scouting missions. 

After blowing up at Annabeth earlier in June, Percy was under the impression that the only reason he was not allowed on missions with other demigods was because Annabeth needed him nearby. He told himself that even though it sucked that he was stuck at camp, at least she was right there with him.

But no. Apparently, she had been going on missions, secretly, behind his back, multiple times.

Percy’s knuckles went white, nails indenting crescents into the meat of his hands. His feet dragged him back to Poseidon’s cabin. In the faint flow of the abalone wall, Percy saw the man-made horror that was the state of his room. He left in such a rush last night that his room looked like a tropical storm made its rounds inside. Blame Rachel. She was the one rushing him to go to some gallery openings in Chelsea. His bed was a mess of unfolded blankets and scattered pillows. There were camp t-shirts littered on the floor and goblets of blue cherry cola unfinished all over the place.

He really had not spent any time here. It made him a bit sad.

Percy did some light cleaning before shuffling into his pajamas, staring up at the bronze hippocampi Tyson hung on the ceiling. His mind went through all the things he wanted to say to Annabeth, each new thought consuming his mind like wildfire. He did not like being angry,

She said they shouldn’t risk losing anyone. She said there was nothing to do. She said he was needed here.

She said she would call.

And now, she was apparently avoiding him and not even trying to deny it anymore. He tried everything. Everything. Every single one of his feeble attempts was met with her cold shoulder. Every time he came close, she pushed him away. All he wanted was to be close to her again, to finally untangle all the knots that were choking him up inside.

Why did it feel like he was the only one who cared about their friendship? He felt betrayed, yes, but mostly, he felt useless. Annabeth didn’t need him, didn’t want to be anywhere near him. She didn’t need him by her side, the way he needed her. She didn’t think he was capable enough to handle these missions she put other campers on. She didn’t need him.

And by the gods, she was about to have a piece of his mind.

The next morning, Percy woke up bright and early to catch Annabeth before she left. He was formulating perfect scenarios in his head, ones where Annabeth apologized and asked him to be friends again, when one of Athena’s kids, Malcolm, came barging out of cabin six’s door.

“Can somebody please go get someone from Apollo?,” he shouted, “Annabeth’s sick.”

All the fake arguments Percy won in his head fizzled into thin air. He took two seconds to register what Malcolm was saying before stumbling into the cabin, bumping into the poor kid on the way.

“What’s wrong? Is she alright?”

Malcolm held out his arm, forming a barrier to push Percy out. His eyes narrowed:

“Um… it’s not visiting hours yet...”

Percy channeled all the rage of the seven seas and gave Malcolm the coldest, deadliest glare that a Son of Poseidon had to offer. The blond-haired boy cowered like a puppy dog, removing his armbar from the door.

“O-on second thought,” he stammered, “I’ll go get Will Solace.”

Percy pushed his way inside, waking up a herd of confused and sleepy Athena kids. Even though it had been a while since Percy visited, his body autopiloted straight to Annabeth’s room.

Annabeth’s lips were pale, and she was shivering all over. Curling up in her blanket, her forehead beaded with sweat, Annabeth mumbled incoherently in her dreams. She had the blanket clenched tightly in her hands, her eyes shut tight. As he approached, he heard a terrified whimper:

“Please… You promised… Luke.”

Percy’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. He tapped her shoulder lightly. 

“Annabeth, Annabeth, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Annabeth’s eyebrows knitted together, her expressions contorted. She let out another shivering groan.

“No… Don’t hurt him. Leave him alone.”

Percy shook her a bit harder, rubbing the tears streaming down her face with his thumb. Annabeth sprung up from bed with an exasperated gasp, her breathing so heavy it sounded like she just finished a marathon.

“Ugh… my head.”

She put her head in her hands and mumbled to herself incoherently: “This is great, this is just great. I need to tell Chiron that I’m out of commission, which could put us back weeks. Need to reassign someone to Philly, can’t leave Connor to go by himself. Check in with Berkendorf. Switch stable duties with Silena. Oh, and javelin classes…”

Fearing that Annabeth would talk herself into psychosis, Percy tried clearing his throat. Annabeth jolted, her hands reaching for her dagger.

“O-oh, it’s you.” She said, sitting up “I didn’t realize… I didn’t… oh… oh no, what are you doing here?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Percy pretended to look around, “Cabin inspection.”

“But it’s not your…” Annabeth furrowed her brows before slowly regaining her composure. She looked up at him, unamused, “Don’t try me, Kelp Face. Nobody does inspections in the morning.”

“Just making sure that Athena’s head counselor isn’t a sloppy mess,” Percy smirked, which earned him an eye roll from Annabeth, “I’m here to see you.”

Seeming surprised by his answer, Annabeth burned holes into his face and tilted her head.

“I thought you were supposed to be with Rachel until the end of the week?”

“I had to, uh… come back for something,” Percy smoothly omitted the truth. He would rather clean the flesh-eating horse stable again than admit to Annabeth that he forgot to clean his room. “How are you feeling, though? Malcolm made it sound like an emergency.”

Annabeth sat up straighter, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Percy could very clearly see goosebumps on her arms. 

“I’m fi-”

Whatever she was about to say, the words were caught in a coughing fit so violent her entire body shook. Percy rushed over to her side, rubbing his hands over her back.

“Annabeth, you’re shivering all over,” he said worriedly, his voice harsh. He reached up to feel her forehead with the palm of his hand, “And you’re burning up.”

He didn’t think her face could get any redder. It’s almost the color of Rachel’s hair. It’s kind of… cute.

“D-don’t touch me!” she swatted his hands away, flustered, “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“What if I want to?”

She threw a pillow at him. He dodged it with practiced ease.

Before she could reach for her dagger (again), Will barged into the room with Malcolm and Connor Stoll in tow. The Apollo boy immediately rushed over to check her pulse, eyes closing as if reading diagrams in his mind. Connor stood by her bedside, a smirk on his face, all sandy-haired and blue-eyed like Luke’s. He has met Hermes and the guy is not that handsome. 

“Heard you’re out for Philly,” Connor grinned, “Did our little Annie finally crumble?”

“Shut up, and don’t call me that,” Annabeth glared, but Percy could hear hints of fondness in her voice, “Sorry to leave you hanging like this. Malcolm could go in my place instead, is that ok with you, Malcolm?”

Malcolm nodded. Connor ruffled Annabeth’s hair.

“Don’t sweat it, Beth. You take care of yourself for me.”

His blood boiled.

“She can take care of herself,” Percy interrupted rudely. Everyone stared at him, including Annabeth. Connor let out an amused laugh before grabbing Malcolm and waving goodbye. Annabeth gave Connor a faint smile.

Percy decides that Hermes' kids are the worst, and they should all die, maybe. When did Annabeth and Connor even become friends, let alone friends who have nicknames for each other? Annabeth would trust a brother of Luke before she trusted him? How does she know that he’s not secretly conspiring with Kronos?

“You have a cold, likely from fatigue, a lack of sleep, improper diet, etc., etc.,” Will said after doing some more checks on Annabeth, “I would recommend bed rest, an Advil to reduce your fever and plenty of water.”

“Dude, I thought you were a magical doctor,” Percy said, earning an eyebrow raise from Will, “Can’t you like- give her some ambrosia or something?”

Will stared at Percy like he was bored. 

“Annabeth, when was the last time you had a full 8-hour of sleep?”

“I don’t…”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“I… I don’t know how this is relevant,” Annabeth groaned, frustrated, “I have ADHD. I just forget to eat sometimes when I’m hyper-focused on something. I’m perfectly healthy otherwise. I’ve been training non-stop.”

“You see what I mean,” Will rolled his eyes and gave Percy a look “What she needs is proper rest. She’s sick because her body has reached its limit. Your body has a way of telling you when it needs rest. You have to listen to it.”

"But..."

“No buts. Bed rest until the end of the week. Apollo’s order,” Will looked sternly at Annabeth. Percy thought it was hilarious that anyone dared tell Annabeth no, and for a second he was a little worried for Will’s life. Will continue, “Percy, you're in charge."

"What?"

"You heard me. Make sure she rests. We’re counting on her,” Will nodded at Percy, who was struggling to hide a smirk on his face, “Now I gotta get going. Let me know if you need me!”

When the boy left, Annabeth groaned loudly into her pillow, coughing and mumbling Greek curses so inappropriate Percy got offended on Athena’s behalf. She was reaching for Daedalus’s laptop when Percy snatched it out of her hand, crawled up to her bed, and scooted closer.

"You think Daedalus's laptop got DVDs?"

⁂

They spent all day in bed.

Annabeth tried to ignore how close they were. His weight of him on her bed. His shoulder leaning against hers. His breath grazing the side of her cheek.

She cannot overthink this. She cannot read into this. It was the fever talking, she thought, the banging in her chest a side effect, the heat creeping up her neck a symptom of the cold. 

This is totally normal. She cannot be weird about this. Just two friends. Hanging out. Totally chill. 

Isn't there some camp rules against this? Where is everyone? 

“This thing has like, every single movie you could think of,” Percy said in awe, browsing the massive collection the man, the myth Daedalus procured, “ Citizen Kane. The French Connection. Narnia! Who would have thought that that crusty old man had such good taste in movies.”

“Please don’t call the most revered child of Athena crusty,” Annabeth scowled between coughs, “I doubt he actually watched all of these. The machine is intelligent enough to scrape every single piece of media in existence to continuously update its firmware. It’s centuries ahead of any piece of technology in existence.”

“It has Wizard of Oz, ” Percy exclaimed, pretending to ignore Annabeth’s nerd rambles, “Annabeth, please tell me you’ve seen the Wizard of Oz. ”

Still feverish, Annabeth's eyes fluttered dreamily. Strange. Even though her whole body was on fire, her hands and feet felt like they were dipped in an ice bath. She rubbed her hands on the top of her arms continuously, goosebumps blooming under her fingertips. She answered sluggishly:

“Ummmmmmm,” she dragged, “I’ve definitely heard of it.”

The name was ringing a bell. She was planning on seeing it at some point. She could feel the memory hovering right there behind her brain fog, just out of reach, its silhouette bittersweet. She remembered the whirlpool in her stomach. The way it consumed her entire being. She remembered the familiar pang.

“Heard of it? It’s the Wizard of Oz. How have you lived this long and never seen it?”

“I think… I’m supposed to see it last year…” she cocked her head to one side, dragging the memory out, “I think in the city…?”

Silena had fussed over her hair for an hour while the rest of the girls at camp poked and prodded her with questions. She remembered their giggles, their teasing, her being so embarrassed she stormed out of Aprodite’s cabin. The first time she stared frustratingly at her own reflection, trying everything to tame the blonde birdnest on her head just to pull her hair up into a ponytail again.

At the last minute, though, she remembered pulling out two little tendrils of curls in front of her face. It made her feel like a normal girl. 

Not a demigod, not a soldier. Just a normal girl going on a normal da- 

“Oh,” Percy said, his face carefully neutral “With me.”

“Oh right,” she blurted happily, clapping her hands together, “with you!”

Before Annabeth realized what she had said, Percy quickly turned his attention back to the screen in front of them and put on a random movie set in New York that he thought had a cool poster. Even though they settled into a comfortable silence, the turmoil twisting Annabeth’s insides made her wince. She chided the butterflies erupting in her stomach, reminding them that he was being a considerate friend and that the girl he liked was elsewhere. 

But you liked him first. The butterflies crooned. 

Annabeth’s going to skew them one by one and flay them alive. 

“Oh, check out this sick building,” Percy exclaimed, pointing to a zoom-out shot of a green-roof, marble structure emerging from Central Park. 

“Percy, that sick building is the Plaza Hotel,” Annabeth retorted, “You know, one of the most iconic New York City landmarks? Mansard roof, French Renaissance, the jewel of the Manhattan city skyline? It was designed by Henry Janeway Hardenbergh, another talented son of Athena and founder of the Demigod Fine Arts Society, and took twenty-four years to complete. Well, initially, the first hotel was built on the grounds of the New York Skating Club, but then they demolished it to…”

"Are you gonna be like this when we go to the movies together?" Percy interrupted, making Annabeth freeze in her tracks. 

"I- Huh? What do you…,” she stammered, “I was... It's a cool building." 

Percy chuckled, running his hand through his hair. As if she could focus on anything else in the movie now. Feigning hunger, Annabeth buried her face in her pillows. Percy got the hint, stood up, grabbed strawberries from the mini fridge in the Common Room, and microwaved some popcorn. 

The tantalizing smell of butter wafted into her room, triggering the growling in her stomach. Ok, perhaps she wasn't feigning after all. 

“Breakfast is served.”

She wasn’t sure how Will would respond to the questionably nutritious diet she was having, but she didn’t have it in her to pay it any mind. As if reading her mind, Percy animatedly wiggled his eyebrows.

“Don’t worry! I added some calcium-riched ingredients in there, Sally special, guaranteed to chase your cold away.”

The calcium-riched ingredient in question was a pack of peanut M&M’s.

“Here, allow me.”

Carefully, she picked out all of the other M&M’s colors until all that was left in the bowl was Percy’s favorite blue. Cupping a handful of colorful M&M’s, she inhaled all of them in one go, looked up at Percy, and grinned.

“Now it’s Sally-approved!”

They giggled, settled onto the bed, and back to sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. On the screen, the main protagonist stood motionless, looking longingly as the girl he loves boarded the next train leaving Grand Central Station. A melancholy pop-ballad crescendoed in the background, cueing to the audience that this was an emotional moment and it was time for some waterwork. 

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t just tell her,” Percy said, clicking his tongue, “It can’t be that hard.”

“Maybe it’s hopeless,” Annabeth shrugged, “Can’t try forever.”

“But she obviously feels the same way,” Percy said exasperatedly, “She was practically begging him to ask her to stay.” 

She thought she felt his eyes on her, but immediately shook her head and resumed her attention to the next scene. In her mind’s eyes, though, his gaze burned like a brand, calling her to unveil its meaning. She quickly pushed those hopeful thoughts away. 

Percy had never really looked at her the way he looked at girls. She knew, deep down, that she would always be the friend from camp who fought monsters by his side. Nothing less. Nothing more. 

He made it pretty clear when he never brought up the kiss again. 

There were moments, of course, where she had thought that perhaps, even for a little bit, where she had thought, had hoped that they could be something more. Boys are rarely ever so complicated, Thalia had said to her unprompted when she was younger, if they liked you, they would make it known. 

Seemed to her that he made it pretty clear who wanted to spend his last summer with. 

The familiar feeling of guilt swelled in her chest. How incredibly selfish of her, wanting him all to herself. He deserved to be with someone who made him the happiest hero on earth, and she was no Andromeda. 

Maybe one day, when all of this has passed, when the war is won and the hero of the prophecy finally gets the girl, she will find happiness in seeing him happy. Maybe it will stop hurting then, being with him, knowing that he always had somewhere else to belong to, and accepting that she only ever had this complicated, dangerous, dead-end demigod life. Maybe things will be like they used to. 

He smelled like salt air.

He was never hers to lose. 

Liking a boy really was ten times worse than being a demigod. She would die in quests a million times over just to never have to go through this again. 

She turned to look at the outline of his face, tracing the curve of his nose, and the sharp line of his cheeks, wondering where the years had gone. She realized, a little too late, that she had always looked to him, had never looked away from him. The warmth of his presence quieted her aching heart. The movie kept playing, the dialogue fading into static. 

He was never hers to lose. Everything is perfect right now. This was enough. This had to be enough. 

Feeling the storm in her mind beginning to dissipate, Annabeth drifted off to sleep. In her dreams, she almost felt a pair of lips on her forehead, the imagination lulled her into dreamless slumber. 

They were going to be ok.