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Annabeth sat down on several cushions stacked on top of each other in front of the couch Percy was sat on in his living room, minutely adjusting the towel wrapped around her shoulders. She'd divided her hair into 4 twists to try and make this less painful for both of them. “You know it’s okay, you don't have to⸺,” Percy cut her of, “Shush and watch the movie.” He paused, “And let me know if I hurt you,” he added offhandedly. Annabeth just nodded. Percy's fingers carefully unraveled one twist, gently spreading her curls and stretching them out
She felt some of the water from the spray bottle hit her neck, and bit her lip, intent on letting Percy do his thing. Which was apparently taking care of her and her hair. Combing through it section by section with a wide tooth comb. Ends to root. From her neck up working his way up. Actually using clips to keep it separated. She’d have laughed any other time at the thought of the research and shopping he must’ve done to have all this on hand.
Instead, her mind began to wander.
One month ago Annabeth had been at her dad’s home in SF, trying to convince herself she liked being there⸺That everything was totally effing fine.
Three weeks ago she’d been on a quest with Percy, Thalia, and Grover in cold ass middle of nowhere Maine. And sure it’d been kinda short notice-but this was what she was about. She knew she excelled at strategy and thinking on her feet. So she packed her bag and did not (totally) lament her hair wasn’t in one of the protective styles she preferred for adventuring. Her edges were laid and she was looking cute enough with her hair pulled back in a durable single puff.
Two weeks and six days ago she was back in the bay area. Except this time she would have given anything to be back at her dad and stepmom’s place, her brothers constantly underfoot, instead of at the top of Mt Tam. Slowly dying from being crushed holding up the sky. Her mind skittered around thoughts of all the agony she’d endured. She felt her head being tugged as Percy gently, patiently, detangled her hair for washing. His soft sorry went unanswered as she kept quiet through it all.
Two and half weeks ago she was held prisoner by one she most trusted. Someone she thought of as family. The kind of family that would never leave you. Never betray. Never not love you enough. Never hurt you on purpose. She sighed and Percy said sorry again.
And Luke tried, she guessed. Didn’t want her dead yet at least (she ignored her heart fracturing at the thought). So he’d tried to keep her alive or least did the absolute minimum to make sure she remained so. But he’d still kept her tied up. Kept her weak and afraid. Made no move to comfort her like she’d still kept thinking he would. He was a traitor. One she was losing hope she could save.
She swallowed thickly, refusing to cry.
Percy left her sectioned half her hair up, put on a new movie, and started detangling the left side of her head. She’d offered to take over, told him she could finish up. But he’d just apologized for taking so long, trying to explain that he didn’t want to hurt her. She’d just nodded along, letting herself get lost in the rhythmic sound of the water misting out of the spray bottle. The gentle tugging. She closed her eyes and blessedly finally let her mind blank out.
She came to Percy chafing her shoulders, telling her to change.
And she must’ve been in a trance because she did. No quippy rejoiner. No cheeky backtalk. No worries about what would come next and did he have the right products. She felt a numbness settle over her. Separating herself from the rest of the world. From Percy, his voice droning on in the distance.
She had no memory of changing into her modest two piece swimsuit, a pair of Percy’s basketball shorts on, drawstrings pulled tight and waistband rolled three times. She was just suddenly sat in the bathtub of his mom’s apartment, Percy’s fingers rubbing the sulfate free (she thought she remembered him repeatedly mentioning that) shampoo all through her coils. His fingers carefully moved through the strands, working the shampoo through all of her hair. Then she felt the pads of his fingers gently massage against one part of her scalp. Both hands attentively working her scalp over, dragging down through her hair.
And in that moment she couldn’t remember anyone in so long just fucking caring about her so diligently just because.
And maybe something that had cracked with Luke, healed with Percy’s chattering and his meticulous work. As he expected nothing in return.
The water poured out of a pitcher and she told herself it’s just that and not tears that wet her cheeks.
He showed her some tub of conditioner, asking her if it was okay, and she just nodded. Letting herself trust him. She could feel the fugue state settling in her bones.
At one point, once her hair was fully conditioned, twisted, and clipped, he brought her a glass of water and some cheesy cracker of some sort. She drank and ate, and she thought she might have offered him a tight smile. A soft thank you. And maybe he looked a little worried. But through the haze of tiredness she couldn’t tell.
Then he was rinsing out each section. She had no idea how much time had passed. Some part of her was startled when she felt him pull a shirt over her head. Before she could ask what he was doing, he was gently blotting her hair dry. Then he twisted the whole thing up and secured it with another duckbill clip by her temple, careful not to grab her hair.
He pulled her up in the tub, holding her hand and helping her out.
The ice that had formed thick around her cracked, and she sobbed, wrapping her arms around Percy’s waist. His arms immediately came up around her shoulders. Neither one caring she was soaking his clothes, the towel in his left hand completely forgotten.
She didn’t know whether she was crying because someone had shown her such thoughtful kindness. Or if it was because for once she wasn’t expected to be strong or in charge. Percy had created a space where she was allowed to be taken care of. Vulnerable. Soft. Not responsible. And she had no idea how to process all the emotions crashing through her.
He held her. No sassy quips for once. She thought she might’ve felt his lips press against the shirt wrapped around her hair, but knew she must be wrong.
Percy led her back to the couch. He sat her down on the cushions in front of him, both of them sitting sideways and wrapped the same towel from earlier over her shoulders. His hands smoothed down over arms.
“Now for the final moisturizing step,” he said proudly. He carefully unworked one large twist, pulled a much smaller section apart from the rest, and beginning at her roots, added a leave-in conditioner. Working it through diligently, making sure there were no tangles or knots, doing his best to put her hair in two strand twists as he finished each area.
She hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps breaking out across her neck. Glad for the towel covering so much of her from his eyes. Mostly because she was finally in a space to notice just how bigger than her he’d gotten. His presence behind her was large and warm.
Annabeth was used to feeling competent. Delicate and small, not so much. She didn’t know what to do with all she was feeling. Percy tilted her head back and up, his fingers running through the front of her hair, from her forehead down to her temples making sure all of her hair was moisturized. Her breath caught. She fervently hoped he hadn’t noticed.
His breath wafted against her ear. “All done,” he said.
“Okie dokie,” she answered. And cringed so hard she jumped up off the cushion stack, causing some to topple over. She pointed to his room with her thumb, “I’m gonna go get dressed,” she said inanely.
When she came out of his room she was wearing a long sleeved shirt of her own, and a pair of sweatpants he’d lent her. And sure he’d told her they were too small for him. But apparently too small for Percy was still too big for Annabeth. She’d rolled the waist she didn’t want to even think how many times, and the sweatpants still swamped her.
“Don’t laugh,” she said, coming back into the living room. Percy looked up a wide smile on his face, something sarcastic ready to spill forth. But instead he gulped. Annabeth couldn’t help being suspicious of what he wanted to say.
“Alright spill it out Seaweed Brain,” she said much softer than she meant too.
“You sure you aren’t a minibeth?” he asked. And maybe it should’ve been funny, and they’d have laughed and goofed together any other time. But his eyes were locked on hers, keeping her from moving. Something intense building between them.
“Maybe you’re part giant,” she practically whispered, somehow now a handspan away from him. “Maybe you should stop growing and leave some for the rest of us,” she said, her eyes never leaving his. Not even to notice that the words leaving her mouth barely hit the middle of his chest. And when did that happen?
“Don’t think you’re ever getting more than three apples tall minibeth.”
Whatever she would’ve said was lost as they both heard the door open. Percy looked towards the front hall, “C’mon let's finish the movie. You can have my room by the way,” he told her. They sat on the couch. He nodded over to a nearly folded stack of bedding she hadn’t noticed before then. “I’ll sleep out here.”
“But-,”
“Nope, you’ve got that flight tomorrow back to SF. Just,” he looked back at her from the tv, “you deserve a good night’s rest before your travels. Okay minibeth?” a smaller version of his normal shit eating grin finally popping up.
She just nodded, Ms. Jackson walked in, talking a mile a minute, keeping her eyes on Percy, till she finally looked over at his mom.
“Hi Ms. Jackson. Thank you so much for letting me stay. And for taking me to the airport tomorrow.” She heard his mom’s voice but couldn’t focus on her words, still feeling his eyes on her. Her heart skipped a bit and something low in her stomach turned over.
“Just finishing Toy Story 2 mom,” he said.
His voice moved through her, the conversation between mom and son background noise, and before she knew it she was drowsing against Percy.
“C’mon let’s get you to bed.”
He pulled her into his bedroom, Annabeth not putting up any resistance as a bone deep weariness washed over her. Safe. Finally, she thought. She let him move her around in a haze, until she was done brushing her teeth, and he started gathering her twists. She looked up at him in the mirror and he was trying to get her hair in a silk bonnet.
Her heart swelled with affection, and she helped him get it on. Her eyes closed and he was settling her in his bed. He tucked his comforter around her. The last thing she heard was “Night Minibeth,” and his chuckle as she flipped him off.