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December
Piper has never met Percy Jackson, but she figures he has to be some hell of a guy if he’s got Annabeth Chase on his side.
Piper’s first impression of Annabeth is the blonde girl jumping off of a moving chariot at the Grand Canyon, threatening Piper and her friends with a knife. Piper had been quite overwhelmed in those moments, in part because she had almost fallen to her death just minutes prior, and also because her boyfriend was suddenly claiming he had no idea who she was. Her first thought of Annabeth is something along the lines of Damn, this girl is intense . Later, when she reflects on this meeting, she notes that her first interpretation of Annabeth was right on the money.
When they arrive at Camp Half-Blood, Annabeth is the one who shows Piper the ropes. Piper can tell that Percy’s absence is weighing heavily on Annabeth’s mind, and she really appreciates that the other girl is still taking the time to make Piper feel comfortable. Annabeth is smart, and driven, and kind, and Piper can’t help but feel in awe. When it comes to discussion of who her godly parent might be, Piper realizes she wants her mother to be Athena, because then they’d have that in common.
It turns out that Athena isn’t Piper’s mother. It’s Aphrodite, who claims her in what might be the most embarrassing way possible. It’s Aphrodite, which means she’s got Drew Tanaka as her sister instead of someone like Annabeth. It’s Aphrodite, and Piper thinks that vanity and shallowness and entitlement are what’s in store for her, not intelligence or curiosity or drive.
Piper goes on her quest with Jason and Leo. Annabeth goes out, searching the country for her missing boyfriend. It’s only four days, but it feels like a lifetime. Piper’s quest is… chaotic, to say the least, but she’s with her friends, and they make it out alive. Piper takes over as counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, because she’s learned that there is so much more to love than just looking pretty and she wants to lead the cabin in a better direction. Jason and Piper are sort of a thing again, for real this time, and Leo shows his plans for a flying ship. Things start to fall into routine, living at camp with her friends and learning about this new world. She and Annabeth start spending time together, and Annabeth slowly starts to open up to her. Not a lot; Piper guesses that being vulnerable is not something Annabeth Chase does all that often, but Annabeth starts telling her stories about her adventures, and Piper is more than happy to listen.
//
January
It’s the beginning of January the first time Piper is pulled in to help with Annabeth. It’s the early afternoon, and she and Leo are walking from one activity to the other. They’re chatting, not about anything important, just some memories from the Wilderness School. As they’re passing by the hearth in the center of the cabins, a kid, maybe eleven or twelve years old, runs up to them.
“Hi, Piper,” says the kid, ignoring Leo. He’s short and has mousy brown hair and stormy gray eyes. Probably an Athena kid.
“Hey, everything all right?” she asks, confused, wondering if she’s supposed to know who this kid is.
He shifts nervously from foot to foot. “Um… can you help with Annabeth? We’re… kind of worried about her.”
And Piper doesn’t quite know what that means, or what helping Annabeth might entail, but Annabeth is her friend now and she’s not going to leave her alone. She hasn’t had a lot of friends before, and she wants to do it right. “I’ll go check on her,” Piper says. She apologizes to Leo for leaving him, and he shrugs, clearly not too hurt, and then she’s off to Cabin Six.
When Piper finds her, Annabeth is frantic. Piper stands at the door of the Athena Cabin, watching Annabeth as she alternates between scrolling on Daedalus’s laptop and scanning the multiple maps spread out on her desk. Her hair is a mess, and she looks like she’s wearing the clothes she slept in the night before—that is, if she even slept at all.
“Annabeth, hun, you okay?” she asks, worried. Her heart tugs in her chest. She knows how important it is for Annabeth to find Percy, and she knows it must hurt every second that she’s not actively working to find him. But if she’s not taking breaks to eat or sleep, she’ll wear herself down to the bone, which won’t be good for anyone involved. Piper doesn’t want it to get that far. Piper might not be the most helpful when it comes to tracking Percy down, or fighting to bring him back, but she can help in other ways. If Annabeth isn’t ready to take care of herself, then this is where Piper can step in.
She hasn’t gotten a response to her question; she’s pretty sure Annabeth didn’t even hear her. So she crosses over and puts her hand on Annabeth’s shoulder. “Annabeth. Stop,” Piper says, injecting some charmspeak into her voice. Annabeth freezes in place.
“Wha— what?” she asks.
Piper puts her free hand on Annabeth’s other shoulder, and slowly turns the girl around so they’re facing each other. Asking an open-ended question like ‘are you okay’ doesn’t tend to work when Annabeth is hyper-focused like this. Piper needs to be specific to get a response. “Have you eaten today?”
Annabeth blinks a few times, but holds Piper’s gaze. “Not since…” she trails off. “No. I haven’t.”
Piper thinks quickly. Annabeth needs help. She’s overworked, and stressed, and overwhelmed. She needs food, but that means going to the dining pavilion, and even though it’s not meal time, that’s a pretty public place.
“All right, babe, come with me. I’ll take care of you.”
Annabeth stares at her mutely. Maybe she’s surprised by the term of endearment, or maybe by Piper’s assertion that she’d take care of her, but somehow Piper managed to stun Annabeth into silence. Piper wonders for a moment how many people have managed to achieve that before. “Okay,” Annabeth says.
“Okay,” Piper repeats. She grabs Annabeth’s hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. Annabeth squeezes back, and Piper takes that as a good sign. She steps away from Annabeth and her desk, tugging her hand and guiding her out of the cabin. Annabeth obliges, but she doesn’t say anything, just looks at her feet and follows Piper as if in a trance.
As they pass through the doorway, Piper turns to the Athena boy who brought her here. “Go to the diving pavilion. Grab some bread and cheese or something, and bring it to the Aphrodite Cabin.” The boy doesn’t question her, just turns and scurries up the hill.
The pair make their way to Cabin Ten quickly. “Stay here,” Piper instructs, leaving Annabeth by the entrance of the cabin. “I’ll be right back.” Then she steps into the Aphrodite Cabin. It’s mostly empty, since it’s mid-afternoon and most campers are at activities, but there are a few older kids, Mitchell and a few others, sitting around and hanging out. “I need everyone out of the cabin for the next two hours,” Piper says loudly, getting their attention. She doesn’t need to use her charmspeak, she realizes, because her siblings know that she wouldn’t ask for this if it wasn’t necessary. It’s moments like this that make her glad that her approach to Cabin leadership is much more based on friendship than Drew Tanaka’s fear tactics. So her siblings grab their things and slide out the door, most only sparing a passing glance towards Piper.
Once everyone is gone, Piper turns to Annabeth. She’s standing where Piper left her, at the base of the steps, and she looks so small and folded in on herself that Piper feels a pang of pity in her chest. The pity immediately replaces itself with guilt, because she knows better than to ever pity Annabeth Chase. Annabeth is being vulnerable right now, but she’s also being so, so strong, and Piper knows to respect that.
“All right, come ’ere,” Piper says, reaching out an arm for Annabeth. Reluctantly, Annabeth steps forward, and Piper grabs onto her upper arm. They step inside the cabin and Annabeth looks around.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been in here,” Annabeth says lightly.
“Yeah?” Piper asks. As she looks around, at the rose pink walls and sky blue bed sets and the many dressers with mirrors and make-up products, she feels a little embarrassed. Don’t get her wrong, she’s grown to appreciate being a daughter of Aphrodite, and she understands the importance of good-looks and charm, but it does feel a little shallow compared to the Athena Cabin, with all of its books and maps.
Annabeth nods. “Since Silena,” she says, and it pulls Piper back to the present.
“You guys were close?” she asks after a few seconds. Piper turns to her own bed, a twin-sized mattress only distinguishable from the other dozen by the photos of her family and friends taped on the wall. She sits down and keeps her eyes on Annabeth.
“She was like a big sister to me,” Annabeth says. Piper wants to hear more, but she’s nervous to ask. It might not be the best idea for Annabeth to dwell on another person she’s lost. Annabeth doesn’t continue, and Piper doesn’t push it.
Annabeth’s eyes meet hers. “What am I doing here?” she asks.
“You’re taking a break,” Piper tells her.
Annabeth shakes her head. “I don’t— I can’t take a break, Piper. I have to keep looking for him.”
“You’re not gonna be able to help him if you pass out because you keep skipping meals and not sleeping,” Piper says.
Annabeth doesn’t say anything for a moment. “My dad used to get like this a lot,” she notes. “He’s a professor—a historian. When he gets really focused on his research, he pretty much locks himself in his office.” She lets out a small laugh. “I guess I’ve got more in common with him than I thought.”
Piper doesn’t know what to say to that. She doesn't know much about Annabeth’s relationship with her mortal parent, but she does know that Annabeth was a year-round camper for many years, which gives her some significant clues. Annabeth’s eyes start to wander, and she begins worrying her bottom lip. Piper recognizes that Annabeth is about to get lost in her thoughts again, and that the whole point of this little intervention is to get Annabeth to take a break.
“Okay, let’s get you clean,” Piper says, changing the subject. That pulls Annabeth out of her thoughts, and she looks offended at that, shooting Piper a glare. Piper rolls her eyes. “Annabeth, you already told me it’s been a day and a half since you’ve eaten. I’m not even going to ask when the last time you showered was.” She doesn’t mean for her tone to be harsh, but then she sees the way Annabeth’s cheeks redden and how she digs her fingernails into the palm of her hand, and she regrets her words.
She sighs, and decides to switch tactics. “I just mean, you’ve been working so hard that you haven’t had time for yourself. So let’s make some time now.” Annabeth nods, accepting Piper’s words, but not looking too happy about it. “Come here,” Piper says, and she stands up off the bed, tugging Annabeth up after her. She leads Annabeth to a trunk that sits outside the bathrooms. Piper lifts up the lid, revealing dozens of bottles of shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and other shower products. “Choose some that look good,” she instructs.
Annabeth crouches down, her hand skimming the bottles. “There’s so many,” she says, almost in awe. Then she looks back to Piper, biting her bottom lip and looking guilty. “I don’t need any of these,” she says, “I have my own stuff in my cabin, I can just use those. I don’t need new things.”
Piper would laugh at Annabeth if she didn’t think it might make the other girl crumble. “I know you don’t need these. But they’re new, and they smell nice, and it’ll make you feel good.” Annabeth still looks hesitant. “Just accept the gift,” Piper says teasingly, knocking her shoulder against Annabeth’s. Annabeth smiles bashfully, but returns to looking at her options. She eventually settles on two purple bottles and two orange ones, and she holds them close to her chest.
“Ready?” Piper asks.
“Ready.”
Piper leads her to the bathrooms. She’s not sure what the bathrooms look like in the other cabins, but she has a feeling that the Aphrodite ones are… something else. The mirrors above the porcelain sinks are tall and polished, with strips of light illuminating from above. The showers, lined up against the back wall, are waterfall style, and there are two free-standing bathtubs in sectioned-off corners.
“Shower or bath?” Piper asks.
“You have baths in here?” Annabeth asks, stunned.
Piper lets out a laugh. “I take it you guys don’t.”
Annabeth shakes her head, still staring at the large tubs in awe. “They’re not as efficient,” she says in explanation.
“Do you want to try out the bath?” she asks as Annabeth reaches out to touch the side of the tub, delicately, like she might break it if she’s not careful.
“Is that okay?” Annabeth asks, glancing back to Piper.
Piper smiles. “That’s why I offered.”
She shows Annabeth how to turn on the faucets and how to control the temperature. Annabeth sits by the side of the tub with a hand in the stream, checking the heat level, while Piper steps back to the supply trunk outside the bathroom, where she grabs a bottle of bubble bath and a container of epsom salt. She returns and pours the bubble bath mixture into the tub, and Annabeth smiles up at her gratefully.
“I can’t remember the last time I had a bath,” Annabeth says.
“Then now’s the time to really appreciate it. Soak it up, so to speak,” Piper tells her. She draws the curtain for Annabeth, giving her some privacy, and starts to step out. “I’ll be right over here,” she says. “Just call for me if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” Annabeth says as Piper slips out. Her words are quiet; a little hesitant, but Piper’s heart warms as she hears them.
She hears a small splash as Annabeth lowers herself into the water. She hopes that her friend will let herself relax into the warm water, will let herself have some peace for a few minutes. She knows it’s not in Annabeth’s nature to prioritize and indulge herself in these ways, but that’s why Piper’s here. She’s a daughter of Aphrodite, after all. Self-love is just another form of love.
As she returns back to the main section of the cabin, there’s a knock on the door. Piper crosses over to the entry and opens the door, revealing the Athena boy from earlier, carrying a plate of bread and cheese like she’d requested.
“Thanks,” she says, and the boy nods.
He peers into the Aphrodite Cabin curiously. “What are you doing with her?” he asks.
“Just helping her take a break,” Piper explains. “She’s a hard worker, but she’s going to burn herself out if nobody stops her.”
The boy is quiet for a moment, thinking. Then he meets Piper’s eyes, and his gray eyes are fierce and stormy, like she’s used to seeing with Annabeth. “Thank you for helping her,” he says.
His intensity startles Piper a bit. “Yeah— she’s my friend,” Piper says, hoping it conveys just how much Annabeth means to her. And with the look in his eyes, Piper thinks he gets it.
It’s a recurring thing, Piper has noticed. Annabeth has connections with everyone at camp, and they all care for her and love her. She’s been here for so long, has helped protect and care for so many people. Not all of them know quite what to do when she needs help, but she means something to so many people. Piper feels a surge of protective love for her friend, who gives and gives and gives.
The boy nods again, short and decisive. He hands Piper the plate of food before turning and running off. Piper closes the door behind him and goes back to her bed.
Piper busies herself with finding some clothes for Annabeth. She and Piper are about the same size, so she goes through her drawers, pulling out the softest white t-shirt she has and a cozy worn flannel. From another drawer, she grabs her dark gray sweatpants—her favorite thing to wear to sleep when it’s cold outside.
It’s another twenty minutes before Annabeth steps out of the bathroom. She’s wrapped in a fluffy white towel, and her damp hair hangs around her shoulders.
“How was the bath?” Piper asks.
“It was really nice,” Annabeth confesses. “The tubs have those jets and everything…”
Piper laughs. “Yeah, we like luxury here in Cabin Ten.” Then she gestures to the clothes she’d laid out for Annabeth. “I grabbed some clothes for you. It’s all clean, I promise.” Annabeth looks surprised, but she nods, and Piper turns away while Annabeth changes.
“I’m decent,” Annabeth says after a minute, and Piper looks back to her.
She likes the sight of Annabeth in her clothes, wrapped up and warm. She still looks hesitant and a little out of place, like she thinks she’s not supposed to be here. Piper feels another protective urge pass over her. She closes the distance in between them and wraps her arms around Annabeth, pulling her into a hug. Annabeth doesn’t exactly hug her back, but she allows the physical touch, sinking into Piper’s embrace and leaning her chin on Piper’s shoulder. Piper doesn’t feel discouraged, she knows that this is just where Annabeth is at and what she’s ready to accept. After a few seconds, Piper pulls away, but keeps her hands on Annabeth’s arms.
“Why are you doing this for me?” Annabeth asks, quietly. She meets Piper’s eyes, looking at her straight on and not backing down.
Piper’s gaze flits back and forth between Annabeth’s eyes. They seem a little paler than what Piper’s used to, but still strong and intense. “Because you’re always there to help everyone else. But you never let anyone help you,” she says. Annabeth frowns like she doesn’t totally buy that response, but Piper doesn’t know what else to say. Annabeth has amazing drive and determination—everyone knows that. But sometimes she lets that drive take priority over taking care of herself, and sometimes she needs an outside perspective to pull her away and remind her that she’s important, too. “And because I care about you, Annabeth,” Piper says, doing what she can to inject some charmspeak into her words with the hope that Annabeth will really internalize what she’s saying. Annabeth breaks their eye contact, looking down. Piper feels the urge to smack her friend for not understanding that she deserves to be cared for.
“Let me braid your hair,” Piper decides.
“What?”
“Let me braid your hair,” she repeats. “I just know I really like the feeling of someone playing with my hair. You can say no, if you want. But I thought you might like it.”
“You don’t have to,” Annabeth says. “It’s all tangled and stuff.”
Piper rolls her eyes. “I want to. Let me do this for you.” And Annabeth concedes.
So they sit. Annabeth slowly nibbles on the cheese plate her sibling had brought, while Piper perches behind her, using detangler and a comb to untangle Annabeth’s blonde hair. It takes a while—it’s truly been a while since Annabeth has paid any attention to her hair, Piper realizes—and she worries that she’s hurting Annabeth with the way she’s probably tugging at her scalp, but the blonde girl is patient, and quiet, allowing Piper to work her way through. Eventually, the tangles are sorted out, and Piper is able to grab some hair ties, section off Annabeth’s hair, and start braiding.
Piper has always liked braiding hair. She braids her own hair most days, considering it the easiest way to keep it out of her face. But she likes when other people braid her hair. Her dad used to, when she was younger and before he got famous. There’s something about the physical touch, the feeling of someone running their hands through her hair and gently playing with it, that feels so comforting and caring. Piper hopes she can give that same comfort to Annabeth. So she slowly thumbs through the blonde hair, weaving it between her fingers in a simple rhythm.
“Silena used to do this for me,” Annabeth says after a few minutes, breaking the quiet.
“Yeah?” Piper asks. She doesn’t want to push Annabeth to talk about this, but if the other girl brought it up, then Piper’s ready to listen.
Annabeth nods, and Piper tuts at her for messing up Piper’s pattern. “Back when I first came to camp, when I was seven. Silena was just a little older than me, maybe nine or ten at the time. But she was one of the only girls who was there year-round, so she took me under her wing. I wasn’t good at taking care of my hair—as you can imagine. Silena would braid it so it would be out of the way when I had sword fighting or rock climbing.” Piper hums, letting Annabeth know she’s paying attention. “Eventually, I learned how to do it myself, so we stopped after a while. But in the year before the war, we started again. It was— I think it was calming for both of us. Gave us something we had full control over, and reminded us of simpler times and all of that.”
“I didn’t know you and Silena were so close,” Piper tells her.
“She meant so much to me,” Annabeth admits, her voice heavy with grief. “The other campers, they made sure I was physically safe. But Silena was the one who made sure I felt safe. She’s the one who made this place feel like home. I wish— I wish she had been able to see what life was like after the war.”
Piper finishes the first braid. She grabs a hair tie from her wrist and loops it around the end of the braid. Then, after a moment, she speaks. “I think she can see it,” she says.
Annabeth reaches a hand behind her head and touches the finished braid. “Piper, it doesn’t work like that,” she says sadly. “When demigods die—”
“I know what the Greek belief of death is,” Piper interrupts. “But I’m Cherokee, too. And the Cherokee belief is that spirits can stick around for a while, especially when a lot of people loved them. And a lot of people loved Silena. And even though she’s not Cherokee, I still think that somehow, she can tell that we’ve made something beautiful out of her sacrifice.”
Annabeth doesn’t say anything. Piper wonders if she went too far. Then Annabeth lets out a sound. A sob, something from deep within her, something that she’s probably been pushing away for a long time. She turns, facing Piper, and immediately falls into Piper’s arms. Piper’s taken aback for just a moment before she reacts, wrapping her arms around Annabeth’s shoulders and pulling her in close. Annabeth starts crying, her body shaking, and Piper strokes her back. “It’s okay,” Piper murmurs. “You can cry. I’ve got you.” Her words draw out another sob from Annabeth, who buries her face into Piper’s shoulder.
Piper doesn’t know what Annabeth is crying about. She thinks there might not even be one thing in particular, just days, months, and years of overwhelming emotions without a proper way to process them. Piper can understand that. So Piper does the only thing she can. She holds Annabeth. She allows Annabeth to finally cry over every unfair thing that she’s had to face. Piper can’t fix any of it, but she can be here now. “I’ve got you,” she says again, pressing a kiss to the back of Annabeth’s head, the side of hair that Piper hasn’t yet braided. “You don’t have to carry this all on your own anymore.”
Piper’s not sure how long they stay there. She’s pretty sure she’d stay there for years if Annabeth needed her to. She keeps whispering small words of comfort, keeps running her hands down Annabeth’s shoulders and back so the other girl can feel that she’s not alone.
After some time, Annabeth wears herself out from the crying, and she falls asleep in Piper’s arms. Piper shifts her position, slowly lowering Annabeth down onto the bed. Piper has no intention of leaving while Annabeth is asleep. She adjusts Annabeth so that her head is resting on the pillow, and Piper takes up position sitting next to her, like she’s on guard duty at night, staying up to make sure Annabeth can sleep safely. She never even finished Annabeth’s hair, but she gets the feeling she’ll get another few chances at that.
//
February
She thinks, sometimes, that Annabeth is friends with her because Piper has no connection to Percy. When Annabeth looks at her other camp friends, like Will or Clarisse or Malcolm, she’s reminded of their friendships and histories with Percy. But Piper’s never met him; isn’t associated with him. So when Annabeth really needs to get her mind off of all things Percy, she finds Piper. And Piper finds that she doesn’t mind.
Sometimes, the head counselors will meet at the ping pong table in the rec room to discuss the status of the Argo II and the search for Percy. Usually there’s not a lot of good news to go around. Maybe Leo has made some progress with the rebuilding, or maybe some of the satyrs think they’ve caught Percy’s scent, but more often than not it’s just delays or false leads. It’s after those particularly disappointing meetings when Annabeth will follow Piper into the Aphrodite Cabin wordlessly. That’s when Annabeth needs a distraction, and Piper is more than happy to comply. They’ll sit on Piper’s twin bed, and Annabeth will have her legs pulled up and her chin resting on one of her knees, and Piper will tell her stories about people she’s never met. Tales about her father’s experiences in Hollywood, or memories Piper has from growing up in Oklahoma. Annabeth is a good listener, focusing intently on Piper’s face as she relays her tales.
They continue their routine of Piper braiding Annabeth’s hair. Annabeth still isn’t good at making time for herself, so Piper is there to step in and make it happen. Most mornings, if they’re not pressed for time, they’ll swing by one of their cabins and Piper does Annabeth’s hair for her. Piper thinks that Annabeth hasn’t gotten nearly enough physical affection in her life. The daughter of Athena seems to crave it, albeit self-consciously, like she’s ashamed of needing it. So Piper braids her hair, and sits close enough that their legs are touching, and hugs Annabeth close to her. Even if Annabeth won’t ask for it verbally, Piper can offer it up.
Annabeth decides to take the semester off from her boarding school; due to a combination of not being able to focus while Percy’s gone, and wanting to dedicate all her available time into looking for him. This means that when the winter campers leave as their breaks end, Annabeth stays at camp with Piper and Leo and the others. Piper is glad that Annabeth is staying; glad she’s going to get more time with her new friend. Academic classes start up at camp, English and Pre-Algebra joining Ancient Greek and Pegasus Riding classes. It’s nothing too challenging, but it helps fill the time.
“You need to learn how to handle a sword,” Annabeth says one day in February, appearing next to Piper and falling into step. It’s after lunch, and they have some free time before classes start again in an hour.
“I have my knife,” Piper responds. She doesn’t even look over at Annabeth; doesn’t need to in order to know the expression on Annabeth’s face.“You of all people should know that that’s good enough.”
Annabeth rolls her eyes. “Of course I know that knives are good. But I also have years of experience with a sword, and sometimes you’re in a situation where that’s the better option.”
Piper hopes this conversation isn’t going where she thinks it’s going. “I like to rely on talking my way out of those kinds of situations,” she says.
“And one day, that’s not going to work, and you’re going to need to defend yourself with a sword. Trust me, I’ve been in many situations where knowing how to use a sword has come in handy.” She says this with a confidence that comes from many years of experience. She’s not putting on a front; she just is that good. It’s hard not to be intimidated by her sometimes.
“Okay, fine,” Piper concedes. “I’ll sign up for a sword fighting class. You happy?” She looks over at Annabeth now and sees the smug smile clear on her face.
“Yes, I am,” Annabeth says. “And I’ll be even happier after I give you your first one-on-one lesson. Right now.”
Piper groans. “Annabeth, I don’t wanna,” she complains. Annabeth laughs.
“Yes, but you’ll have so much fun anyway,” Annabeth insists. Piper sighs. She really doesn’t want to; was really looking forward to napping or relaxing for the next hour. But Annabeth is right, and she does need to learn how to handle a sword, and sooner rather than later. And it’s better for her to have her first lesson in private, so she’ll get more feedback and not have to be worried about other campers judging her.
“Fine,” Piper concedes, and Annabeth’s face lights up. Piper tells herself she’s agreeing because it’s the smart thing to do, and that she needs to get comfortable with a sword. It has nothing to do with the fact that her agreeing makes Annabeth beam like Piper’s hung up the sun for her.
Piper doesn’t allow herself to think too much about that; about the way Annabeth’s smile makes her stomach swirl. She’s been doing a lot of that; ignoring the physical ways she reacts to Annabeth’s presence. It’s just never a good time to unpack that. Like now, right before a one-on-one sword fighting lesson. Not a good time to unpack things. So she ignores it, and lets Annabeth grab her hand, pulling her towards the arena.
“All right. First thing you need is to find a sword that fits you,” Annabeth says once they’ve set their things down on a bench. Annabeth leads her over to the weapons rack, a section of the training arena that Piper has mainly avoided.
“How do I do that?” Piper asks, looking at the swords but not reaching for any of them.
“You’ve got to just try them out,” Annabeth says. She grabs a sword, a longer one with doubled-edges. She steps back and swings it, spinning it expertly around her in a circle. Piper watches in awe. Annabeth finishes, pointing the sword towards Piper. “See? Like this one isn’t good for me.”
“ How is that sword not good for you? Look what you just did with it!” Piper says, a little astounded.
Annabeth laughs. “Okay, true, but that just comes with practice. It doesn’t feel right in my hands. It’s unbalanced.” She opens her grip on the sword and holds her arm out, and Piper does notice that the sword is leaning much further down on one side. “Grab one. We’ll see if it clicks with you.”
Piper moves to the wall of swords. There’s plenty of different types, some that look like they could be from Ancient Greece, and others much more recent. She grabs one at random, with a leather-wrapped hilt and a Celestial Bronze blade. She passes it from her hands, trying to get used to the feel of it.
Annabeth guides her to the open area. “Knives are great. You know I prefer to use them, like you. But they’re for close combat, or for stealth and subtlety. Sometimes, you need more reach or more strength, and then you’re going to want a sword,” Annabeth says. “Block my attacks.”
Without any time for Piper to protest, Annabeth swings her sword along her right side and slashes it towards Piper. Piper yelps, and holds up her sword in an attempt to use the blade to block her attack, but her grip isn’t strong enough. Her sword falls out of her hand and knocks down to the ground with a thunk while Piper gets a strong blow to her side. Annabeth is using a dull training sword, thank the gods, so Piper isn’t bleeding or anything, but it still hurts.
“Ow, Annabeth! What the hell?” she says, grabbing onto her side.
Annabeth lets out a laugh, almost carefree. She’s in her element here. “Okay, we need to work on your grip of the sword. Pick it up.”
Piper leans over and grabs her sword again, looking at the way it balances in her right hand. Annabeth steps in next to her, analyzing Piper’s hand position. “You’re overextending your wrist, see? You’re rolling your wrist forward, try it like this.” She reaches around Piper and gently grasps onto her wrist. Piper freezes at the contact. Annabeth shifts the grip, her hand turning Piper’s slightly. “It’s more like a handshake. How does that feel?”
In all honesty, Piper can’t really think right now, let alone process the change in grip. “Uh, good,” Piper says.
Annabeth nods, content with that answer. “Okay, let’s try again.” She steps away, grabbing her sword from the ground. “Block my attack. And try not to drop your sword this time.”
Annabeth gives her best effort into teaching Piper how to handle her sword. And Piper really does try to learn, really is trying to take in the tips and advice Annabeth is giving her. They keep going for another half hour, Annabeth repeatedly showing Piper the basic defensive blocks, and Piper repeatedly unable to execute them.
“I don’t know if I can do much more of this,” Piper admits after a particularly embarrassing failure. She’s on the ground, having just fallen on her ass after Annabeth hit her with the flat of her sword. Annabeth reaches down, offering Piper a hand to stand back up.
“Yeah. Maybe sword fighting isn’t your thing. We can work on your knife skills though, make sure those are sufficient,” Annabeth says, her tone a bit cold. Piper hates to think that she is letting Annabeth down by not being better at sword fighting. “Not today, though. We’ll take a break.”
“More knife practice would be really good,” Piper says, eager not to disappoint. “I’d like to do that with you, if that’s okay?”
Annabeth smiles. “We can do that. I’m the best knife fighter at this camp; it wouldn’t make sense for you to go to someone else.”
“I wouldn’t dare ask anyone else,” Piper teases, glad she hasn’t fully let Annabeth down. “What about you? Why did you start using a knife?”
The smile on Annabeth’s face falls immediately, and her eyes grow cold. “Doesn’t matter,” she says, short, and even if she wasn’t proficient at reading emotions Piper would know that she’s touched on a sensitive subject. “We should go clean up before class.”
Piper watches as Annabeth leaves the training rink. She’s not quite sure what happened, and the whiplash of moods from Annabeth has left her feeling out of her depth. She hangs up her training sword and follows her friend out.
//
March
In March, a group of older campers and counselors come together to throw a party. It’s been cold and dreary, and the snow has lingered on the ground, and apparently there’s an annual tradition of revelling together to keep everyone from feeling too cooped up. And as the new head counselor of the Aphrodite Cabin, she’s had to step up on the party planning council.
The party is in Cabin Ten, with more people crowded inside the pink cabin than any other time of the year. The Hephaestus kids rigged up some strobe lights and disco balls, the Apollo kids enchanted some speakers to play music, and Pollux, the son of Dionysus, managed to sneak some alcohol for the counselors.
The music is loud and the lights are flashing, and for one beautiful night, things feel almost normal, like they’re regular high school kids at a party. Piper accepts the glass of wine offered to her and downs it in a few long sips, enjoying the way it warms her chest. She doesn’t have much experience drinking, having spent her delinquent years stealing things much more interesting than a bottle of wine, so she’s not planning on having more than the glass.
She stays by the wall to start, hanging with Leo and Jason. Leo’s telling some nonsensical story, and Jason’s hand is in hers. She’s laughing harder than she has in ages, and she’s happy, happy . The room is hot and a little stuffy from all the bodies and movement but Piper enjoys it, loves the warmth of being surrounded by people she cares about. She knows pretty much everyone at camp now. Or, at least the year-round campers. Her eyes flit over Connor and Travis Stoll, who look like they’re pestering Clarisse with something. Nyssa Barrera and Katie Gardner are chatting near the drinks.
And there’s Annabeth, eyes closed as she moves to the music, dancing among the crowd of older campers. There’s an old pop song playing over the speakers, one that’s got most people singing loudly and without care as they jump and pump their fists.
Piper takes a moment to just relish in this scene. All these people, her friends , who make her feel safe and let her have fun. It’s not like anything she’s felt before.
Across the room, Annabeth opens her eyes, and she immediately locks them with Piper’s. A smile blooms on her face, and her mouth moves as she says something, though Piper can’t make it out from across the room. Then Annabeth beckons with her hands, gestures ‘come here’, and Piper is pulled like a puppet on a string. She puts her empty cup down on a table and says goodbye to Leo and Jason, who continue with their conversation. She weaves through the bodies, ducking under a swinging arm, and makes her way over to her friend.
Annabeth loops her arms around Piper’s neck, pulling her close. It’s louder here in the throng of people, with the thumping of feet and the shout-singing. “Dance with me,” Annabeth says, her voice cutting through the noise.
Piper’s never been one for dancing. At powwows growing up, she watched as her cousins completed Stomp Dances and Jingle Dances, but she never participated. The handful of school parties she attended before the Wilderness School had dancing, too, but again, she stayed on the sidelines. But Annabeth’s words feel almost like charmspeak tonight, and besides, it does seem kind of fun.
“Okay,” Piper says, and Annabeth’s face lights up. Piper starts to dance, jumping and moving in time with those around her. She doesn’t know the words to the song but it doesn’t matter, everyone else is singing it for her. People are smiling and sweating and being goofy, and nobody’s paying her attention other than to grin when they see her. And Annabeth is by her side, eyes closed again as she moves with the music.
Another song or two play while they dance—whoever’s DJing is doing a good job linking all the music together. Piper’s sweaty now, too, and out of breath. All that jump-dancing takes it out of you. She opens her eyes as she feels Annabeth leaning against her arm. “Wanna take a break?” Annabeth asks.
“Yeah, it’s hot in here,” Piper says.
“Let’s go outside for a bit,” Annabeth says, and turns, grabbing Piper’s hand in hers and tugging her along as she navigates the party.
They pass through the doors, grabbing the jackets they’d arrived in, and the sharp chill of the early spring air startles her. Even within the borders of Camp Half-Blood, where it never gets too hot or too cold, it’s chilly out tonight, and there’s a thin layer of snow covering the ground. Piper pulls her denim jacket on, moving a little slower than she would when sober. Annabeth is leaning against the wall of the cabin so Piper mimics, moving to stand next to her.
“So. How does this party compare to other years?” Piper asks. Each exhale leaves a fog of condensation, illuminated from the lights of the party.
“It’s good,” Annabeth says. “It’s the first one I’ve had alcohol at.”
“Is that… a good thing?” Piper asks hesitantly.
Annabeth shrugs. “I don’t know if it’s either,” she says. “It’s like, there’s a lot of context to all of it. I’m sixteen now, so probably good that I wasn’t drinking a ton before. There was a war on the horizon last year. But this year my boyfriend’s missing, so that’s not great, either.” She pauses for a moment. “I think if I had found the alcohol last year, I would have drank it. Maybe the older counselors hid it from me.”
The noise from the party is still too loud. Even from their spot outside, Piper can still hear the song booming through the speakers and the laughter of the party-goers.
“Oh,” Piper says, not sure what else to say.
Annabeth looks over at her, eyes sharp. “Do you want to stay at the party, or can we go somewhere else?”
“Oh, uh,” Piper stammers. “We can go somewhere else. I’m fine to go. The rest of my cabin can take care of the party.”
Annabeth nods decisively. “Good. I don’t want to be there anymore. Want to go to the Big House?”
“Yeah, sure,” Piper says. “But, uh— why?”
“I don’t want to be at the party anymore. Too many people. But there’s gonna be people in the Athena cabin, and I don’t want to deal with that. I don’t want to be around anyone.”
Piper looks at her carefully. “Do you want me to go?” she asks.
Annabeth rolls her eyes. “No, you don’t count. Come on, let’s go.”
Piper wonders if Annabeth is drunk. She hadn’t seen the other girl drinking anything, but she mentioned the alcohol, and she’s acting a little different than normal. A little blunter. Not necessarily in a bad way. Annabeth starts walking up the hill towards the Big House. “Are you coming?” she calls, turning her head over a shoulder. Piper scrambles to follow.
The lights are all off as they arrive at the door. There’s nobody staying in the infirmary, and Chiron is away for the weekend–he claimed it was to scope out nearby schools for demigods, but Piper suspects he just didn’t want to be at camp while his teenage wards were throwing a party. Deniability and all that. Regardless, the Big House is all theirs.
They make their way into one of the living rooms. The fire in the fireplace immediately lights up, probably from some godly magic, leaving the room in a soft orange glow. Annabeth leads Piper to the big soft couch in the center of the room, and they sit down.
Annabeth reaches into the pocket of her jacket and pulls out a small metal flask. She glances over at Piper before unscrewing the lid and taking a swig of it. Well, that answers Piper’s question. “Do you want some?” Annabeth asks.
Piper’s only had the one glass of wine she started with. “Yeah, okay,” she says. Annabeth passes her the flask. The metal is cold to the touch. She looks down at it for a moment, swirls the liquid inside. Then she holds it up and takes a sip.
It burns as it goes down, something bitter; almost metallic. Piper cringes as she swallows, coughing a little. “Gods, what is that?” she asks.
Annabeth lets out a small laugh. She reaches over and takes the flask back. “Sorry, should’ve warned you. It’s a little strong. Grover got it for me, from some naiads. I don’t really know what’s in it.”
“And you like it?” Piper asks.
“No, not really. But it gets the job done,” Annabeth says vaguely.
Piper glances over at Annabeth. Her hair is messy, coming out of the ponytail she’d put in earlier. There’s soft shadows under her eyes.
“Are you okay?” Piper asks, a little nervous.
“Yeah,” Annabeth says. She sighs. “I don’t think I want to talk about it.”
“We don’t have to. You just… seem a little off,” Piper says.
“I feel a little off. Everything is off.” She runs a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face. “It feels weird to enjoy myself, without him here. But it feels worse to not have any fun at all. And I was having fun, at the party. I was. But then suddenly, I thought about him, and about how he’d love the party, but he’s not here. He’s not here, and we don’t even know where he is, and instead of looking for him, I spent the night drinking and dancing in the Aphrodite cabin.”
Piper really wants to say something comforting. To find the words to make her friend feel better. But the two drinks she had at the party are still fogging her mind, and the words aren’t coming easily. “I’m sorry,” she says, because she can’t say nothing.
“None of this is your fault,” Annabeth says.
“But I’m sorry you’re going through it all. It just— it all sucks. You don’t deserve any of this.”
Annabeth looks over at her, and the intensity of her gaze almost makes Piper turn away. She feels exposed under Annabeth’s piercing gray eyes.
“I’m glad you’re here, Piper,” Annabeth finally says, sighing and looking away.
And Piper doesn’t quite know what to say to that, either. So she scoots closer to Annabeth, close enough so their legs are touching on the couch. She leans over and rests her head on Annabeth’s shoulder. She feels rather than sees the breath Annabeth lets out, resolute. Then Annabeth’s head is resting gently on her own. Piper reaches out and grasps onto Annabeth’s hand, locking their fingers together.
When Piper wakes up the next morning, Annabeth is sitting on the far end of the couch, her legs tucked up in front of her and her chin resting on her knee. Piper blinks awake slowly, replaying the events from the night before. The party; leaving early. The foul drink Annabeth had in a flask. Falling asleep with legs and hands touching, not quite enough room on the couch. Piper wonders if these are normal things that normal friends do with each other. Seeing as she hasn’t had a lot of experience with friends, she’s not too sure.
Annabeth glances over at Piper, and Piper is struck by how exhausted the older girl looks. It looks like she’s been up for hours.
“Today’s our six month anniversary,” Annabeth says suddenly.
Piper’s heart drops in her chest.
“I really thought we’d have found him by now. It’s been three months. What more do I need to do?”
“You’re doing so much already. Grover’s got the satyrs; Thalia’s leading the Hunters. We’re going to find him soon, or at least a clue. We just have to be patient,” Piper says, repeating words that have almost lost their meaning at this point.
“What if he doesn’t remember me?” Annabeth asks. Piper stills.
A fun little elephant that Piper has been avoiding: The fact that Percy has probably lost all his memories, just like Jason did. Annabeth and Piper both know fully well how difficult it has been for Jason, to try to slowly piece together his entire past.
Piper suspects there is more to Jason’s past than he is letting on. She suspects there was a someone , back in Jason’s old life. She’s afraid that he’s going to have an Annabeth waiting for him, someone who loves him so fully and whole-heartedly, someone who’s been searching for him non-stop, someone Piper won’t compare to. She’s scared about what that means for her and Jason, but she’s equally terrified about what it might mean for Annabeth. If Jason had forgotten, even if temporarily, about the people in his old life… could Percy have forgotten about Annabeth?
But even without the terrifying possibility of whether or not Percy is moving on with someone new, the question of Percy and the extent of his memory loss is constant.
“Then you’ll work with him until he remembers,” Piper says, certain of it. “You wouldn’t let something as small as amnesia keep you from being with him?” she teases.
Annabeth smiles softly, biting her lower lip and looking down. “No, I wouldn’t,” she agrees.
Piper continues. “And— and you know that Jason has been getting more and more of his memories back. So you know Percy will get his, too. And you have an advantage, because you’ll actually know what he’s talking about, and you’ll be able to confirm things for him, and remind him of what is real.”
Annabeth nods.
Piper feels like she’s going to be sick.
This whole ‘friends’ thing is harder than she expected.
//
April
Sometimes, Annabeth drives into the city to visit Percy’s parents. Piper doesn’t really know what goes on during those visits, but she knows it’s important. Annabeth always comes back from those trips looking utterly exhausted, and yet somehow a little lighter. When she arrives back at camp, either late in the night or sometime the following morning if Sally convinces her to stay, she tracks down Piper, and Piper immediately wraps her into a hug. Annabeth doesn’t like talking about those trips and Piper doesn’t press. Usually Sally sends a batch of blue cookies back with Annabeth, and the girls find somewhere private to eat them. Piper doesn’t try to distract Annabeth in these moments, or get her to think about something else. As much as it hurts Piper to watch, she knows Annabeth needs some time to just be sad about what’s going on. But even in sadness— especially in sadness, really—it hurts to be alone, so Piper stays with her. Annabeth is probably feeling loads of different emotions, but one thing Piper won’t let her feel is lonely.
Annabeth has been making these trips more and more, as the search for Percy stagnates. She goes and finds Piper afterwards more and more, and Piper lets her. Piper doesn’t mind it.
There’s another change to their dynamic, some time in April. Piper is at the Aphrodite table in the dining pavilion. The restrictions about sitting at your own table are more lax during the off months, but Piper still enjoys spending time with her siblings. One morning, midway through breakfast, Annabeth appears, seemingly out of nowhere. Maybe it’s the invisibility cap, but even without her magic item Annabeth has always had a knack for sneaking around.
Annabeth stands for a while, watching as Piper eats her meal of scrambled eggs and toast. Piper raises her eyebrows, wondering if Annabeth is going to say something or sit down or what. Then Annabeth’s hand darts forward, and she grabs the piece of toast off of Piper’s plate, and she takes a bite.
Piper looks up at her in surprise. “What was that about?” she asks. She’s a little stunned but mostly just amused, especially given the little smirk forming on Annabeth’s face.
“It’s sourdough,” Annabeth explains as she swallows her bite. Then she takes another bite and keeps chewing. “I wanted to eat it.”
Piper rolls her eyes. “You know you can just get your own plate,” she says.
Annabeth’s smirk grows into a full smile. “But I like taking yours,” she tells her. Piper is tempted to throw her other piece of toast at Annabeth, but that feels like it would just be playing into Annabeth’s hands. Instead, she waits for Annabeth to sit down next to her, and once the other girl has a plate loaded with her own food, Piper grabs her fork and steals her scrambled eggs.
It becomes another weird habit of theirs. It’s only at breakfast; lunch and dinner are off-limits. But for breakfast, Piper learns to be alert, learns to watch out for Annabeth’s quick hands. Piper likes this tradition for a few reasons. One, because it guarantees that Annabeth will show up for at least one meal every day; not fully closing herself off to the world as she dives into her work. And two, because it’s so simple, and silly, and with everything else Annabeth has to deal with right now, she can use something simple and silly.
So now sometimes Annabeth will appear out of nowhere and steal Piper’s breakfast. That’s just what the two of them do.
“I think I have a thing for blondes,” she tells Leo one day, when it’s just the two of them in Bunker Nine. He doesn’t stop laughing for a solid five minutes.
It’s not that she has a crush on Annabeth or anything. She might be a little bit into Annabeth, maybe. That feels sort of inevitable, she thinks, given Annabeth’s princess curls and striking eyes and the way she gets so passionate about whatever she puts her mind to. Annabeth is beautiful, there’s no denying that. How could she not fall for her, at least a little bit?
But she really, truly, has no intention of doing anything about this non-existent crush. She’s already trying to figure out her kind-of relationship with Jason, and she’s witnessing firsthand just how much Annabeth cares about Percy. But Piper can’t deny that she just really enjoys being around Annabeth. That she’s drawn to her, and wants to do everything she can to make Annabeth happy.
Annabeth needs a friend right now, and not-crush or no not-crush, Piper is going to be that friend.
//
May
As the weather gets warmer, Piper finds herself outside more. She hasn’t spent much time–any, really–on the east coast prior to this year. It’s different than Oklahoma, even from inside Camp Half-Blood’s borders. It’s more humid here, for one thing; with the air feeling heavy as the summer months approach. And the beach. There were lakes, sure, and she definitely spent time wading into nearby creeks, but there’s something uniquely beautiful about the ocean.
So she spends her free time outside, often by the water. The grains of sand are smooth beneath her feet. The water laps at the shore, rhythmic and relaxing. It’s here where Annabeth finds her one afternoon, perched on a fallen log and tucked away from the main path down to the water.
“Mind if I sit with you?” Annabeth asks.
“Go for it,” Piper says, shrugging. She scoots over a few inches, and Annabeth takes a seat next to her, facing out at the water.
“The weather’s getting nice again,” Annabeth says. “This is probably the best time of the year. During the summer, it’s going to get brutally hot. But right now, it’s pretty nice.”
Piper hums in acknowledgement. She thinks about hot and bright summer days, and summer camps she saw on TV shows but never got to experience. “What’s it like when all the summer campers come?” she asks.
Annabeth lets out a little laugh. “It’s pretty chaotic,” she admits. “You saw a little bit of that when you were here over winter break. It’s more crowded, and people are excited about seeing their friends for the first time in a year. We stop doing regular classes and lean fully into demigod training. And we have fun activities, too. Like Capture the Flag. And we always have fireworks on the Fourth of July.”
“That does seem fun,” Piper says.
“Have you ever been to something like this before?” Annabeth asks. “Like another summer camp or something? Before you came here, that is.”
Piper shook her head. “Nah. We didn’t have that kind of money when I was a kid.” She tilts her head to the side for a moment, thinking. “But I did go to boarding school.”
“You? Went to boarding school?” Annabeth asks, an eyebrow raised.
“I can promise you it was nothing like you’re thinking,” Piper says quickly.
Annabeth’s eyes flit back and forth between Piper’s. “Okay, so what was it like?” the blonde girl asks.
“It was a school for troubled kids,” Piper explains. “So, kids like me, who’d gotten in trouble a lot, or had gotten kicked out of all the other schools. We did a lot of manual labor, and hiking, and things like that.They wanted to tire us out, so we wouldn’t cause trouble. We were out in the desert, in Nevada. I remember doing a lot of clearing plants and things to make hiking trails. The teachers there didn’t like us very much. I think they were used to kids acting up, and they were tired of it. So they’d yell a lot, or wouldn’t give us our food. One kid, Brian, he got in trouble for trying to get his brother to sneak him drugs during a family visit. The teachers got so upset with him that they drove him ten miles away from the center and made him walk all the way back.”
“That’s awful,” Annabeth murmurs.
Piper shrugs. “That’s just how it was. They were trying to teach us how to be good members of society. I mean, parts of it weren’t bad. Being in nature all the time was pretty nice. I got really close to Leo, of course, and Jason…” She trails off, remembering that Jason wasn’t actually there. Stupid false memories. Annabeth doesn’t point anything out; just waits for her to continue. “But, you know, another thing was that a lot of the kids who were at that school had gotten in trouble for bullying at their old schools. So people were mean, a lot of the time. They’d try to pick on the smaller kids, or the kids they didn’t think could defend themselves. And the teachers didn’t care, as long as nobody had to go to the infirmary. Because we were ‘sorting things out for ourselves’ , or something stupid like that.”
“That is terrible, Piper,” Annabeth says. “I had no idea. You didn’t deserve any of that.”
“Yeah, well, I was a bad kid,” Piper says. It was an awful few months, sure, but she’s over it now.
“You were not a bad kid,” Annabeth says sharply. It startles Piper, the passion—and compassion—in those few words. Annabeth turns to look at her, and, helpless, Piper looks back. “So you did poorly in school. So you stole some things. You still deserve to be treated with respect. And basic human decency.”
“I stole a lot of things,” Piper reminds her. “Expensive things.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Annabeth says. “You were just reaching out, trying to get what you needed. And maybe you didn’t do it in the smartest way, but you…” she trails off, shaking her head. “You were just a kid. You just wanted your dad to pay attention to you. Besides, you had charmspeak that you didn’t know how to control. It barely counts as stealing if they just give it to you.”
Piper stills. Yeah, Annabeth pretty much hit the nail on the head with that one. She lets out a breath, trying to release the tension she feels in her body, and knocks her shoulder gently against Annabeth’s. “Well, thanks for breaking me out of there, I guess,” she says.
Annabeth smiles at her, easy and lopsided. “Any time. Who am I to say no to a trip to the Grand Canyon?” Piper laughs, and looks back out at the water. To her surprise, Annabeth keeps talking. “I probably would have ended up in a place like that school,” she says. “I ran away when I was still pretty young, but I can see how that would have been on the table for me. Back then, it felt like my stepmother would do anything to get me out of her house.”
Piper is quiet. She still doesn’t know all that much about Annabeth’s past, or why she’s been at camp for so many years. “You didn’t deserve that either, you know. Whatever happened, you were not a bad kid.”
“Thanks,” Annabeth says. Her gray eyes shine. “That means a lot, Piper.”
They fall into a silence, looking out over the water. The tide has risen, just a little, but it’s slowly creeping towards their feet. The salty spray mists over to them. Piper can hear the calls of different birds, reaching out to each other from up and down the shore. The ocean is deep, rich and blue, and the waves crest with hints of white from the incoming tide. Piper wonders if Annabeth is thinking about Percy.
“They called Percy a bad kid, too,” Annabeth says.
Well.
“How so?” Piper asks.
“He also caused trouble, even though he didn’t mean to. His teachers couldn’t see that he was smart, because of the ADHD and dyslexia. And he got kicked out a lot, too. Six schools in six years. He probably would have ended up at a place like the Wilderness School, except his mom did everything she could to keep him out of that.”
“The Wilderness School wouldn’t know what hit them,” Piper says.
Annabeth snorts. “That’s for sure. I remember one of his first days here at camp, before he learned he was the son of Poiseidon, he accidentally exploded all the pipes in the bathroom. Like, all the pipes. There was just water bursting everywhere. If we didn’t have the naiads, I don’t know if we would have been able to fix it.”
Piper lets out a laugh. “What I would give to have seen that,” she says, just imagining all the chaos.
“You’ll get a chance to see something like that. When we find him,” Annabeth says.
Piper glances over at her. Annabeth’s jaw is set. “I’m looking forward to it,” she says, a little hesitant.
Annabeth lets out a huff of a breath. Her body deflates, just a bit. “Can I tell you something? It’s been on my mind a lot lately” Annabeth asks.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
Annabeth takes a moment to breathe, maybe to collect her thoughts. Piper glances over at her, waiting for her to be ready.
“The winter when Percy and I were fourteen, we went on a mission together that went horribly wrong. We had gone up to a school to check out some potential demigods and bring them back to camp. Thalia and Grover were with us, and we’ve all done that kind of mission tons of time before, so it should have been easy. But then the vice principal of the school turned out to be a manticore—”
“A manticore? ” Piper interrupts. She’s getting more and more used to the mythological creatures just being a background part of stories, but sometimes she’s still caught off guard.
Annabeth laughs. “Yeah, it wasn’t super fun. Anyways, we ended up fighting the manticore, and he was getting close to killing the kids, so I tackled him off a cliff.” Once again, Piper is caught off guard, but Annabeth continues without elaborating on the matter. “I fell with him, of course, and I ended up being taken prisoner by Kronos and his army. Percy and our friends had no reason to think I didn’t die in that fall, and some people I think did accept that I was gone. But not Percy. They didn’t allow him to go on the quest to rescue me, but he snuck out of camp, and crossed the entire country to find me. He could have been kicked out of camp, he could have died , but he went looking for me anyway. He said that he knew that I was alive, that he would have known if I was dead, and that he wasn’t going to give up on me.”
“And… he found you?” Piper asks.
She nods. “He found me. I thought everyone must have given up on me, and that I was out of luck, but he found me.”
“That’s… really impressive,” Piper manages.
Annabeth looks away from Piper and turns her gaze out to the ocean. “I think that’s when I first started to realize just how much I meant to him,” Annabeth says. Piper watches her face, trying to read Annabeth’s emotions. She’s not sure what Annabeth wants right now, or where this story is going, but regardless, she reaches over and grabs her friend’s hand, weaving their fingers together and squeezing.
Annabeth squeezes back, and Piper sees the hint of a smile on her face. “That next summer, we were on a quest together in the labyrinth. It was this series of mazes, connecting underneath the continental United States.” She must see Piper’s concerned expression, because she laughs. “Don’t worry, we’re pretty sure it’s destroyed now,” she says, which doesn’t actually help assuage Piper’s concerns. But that’s for later, she determines. “Anyways, it was just me and Percy. We found ourselves at the base of Mount St. Helens. Do you remember the eruption that happened a few years ago?”
“Yes?” Piper says.
“That was Percy.”
She remembers hearing about the eruption, how it had gone off with absolutely no warning and seemed to stump researchers. “He… erupted a volcano? How did he even do that?”
Annabeth smiles, shrugging. “I don’t really know. He helped me escape before he did it.” Then her smile fades slightly. “But… he exploded, along with the volcano. He was blasted in the air. He should have died, which isn’t new, but he ended up landing in the water, somewhere in the Atlantic. And when he finally got to shore, he was on an island called Ogygia.” She turns to Piper, scanning her face for any recognition.
When Annabeth doesn’t continue for a few seconds, Piper realizes she might be waiting for a response. “Am I supposed to know where that is?” Piper asks, unsure.
“That’s where Calypso lives. She’s a daughter of the Titan Atlas. After she supported him in the first war against the Titans, she was exiled to live on the island. Part of her punishment was that, every few centuries or so, a hero would come to her island needing help. She’d always fall in love with the hero, and he’d always have to leave and break her heart.”
Piper processes Annabeth’s words for a moment. “So… Percy?”
Annabeth nods. “He was there, and she healed him, and she fell in love with him.”
“Did he…” Piper starts. There’s a question she wants to ask, but she’s hesitant to put it into words. But Annabeth is smart, and she seems to know what Piper is asking.
“Was he in love with her? I don’t know. He had a lot of stuff going on at that time. Maybe a little bit, but that’s just kind of the way Percy is. He has a lot of love in his heart, and he gives it out willingly.” Piper thinks of the surge of happiness she feels when she holds Jason’s hand. She thinks of the butterflies that swirl in her when she sits close to Annabeth. She thinks she might know a thing or two about having a lot of love in her heart.
Annabeth shakes her head and returns to her story. “Anyways, that isn’t the important thing. He was on the island for two weeks, and the whole time, none of us had any idea where he was or what happened to him. When he didn’t show up or contact anyone for so long, we thought he must have been killed in the eruption. That was the first time I really thought I’d lost him.”
“Oh, gods,” Piper murmurs. “That must have been awful.”
“It really was,” Annabeth agrees. “Tensions were really starting to ramp up, and it was becoming clear that there was going to be a war. And he was already such a leader, so losing him took a huge toll on morale. Not to mention, that was the summer that he and I… well, I kissed him for the first time right before the explosion.”
“And then you thought he was dead?”
“Yeah. Pretty awful,” Annabeth says. She sighs and leans back, propping herself up on her hands. “I keep thinking about those two weeks. And how I felt so helpless and so hopeless, and just every day felt so impossible. It had been so hard for me to realize that I had feelings for him, and then when I finally got the nerve to actually kiss him, and I thought he’d died? It was awful. I felt like I had so many things left to say to him.”
Annabeth lets out a breath. She turns to Piper, and Piper is struck by the sheer determination in her gaze. “He was gone for two weeks. Only two weeks, and I had already lost faith in him. I thought he was dead. I let him down. This time, I’m not going to give up. I know him, and I know he’s going to find a way to come back, no matter where he is. I’ll keep searching for him for as long as it takes until he comes back to me.” She looks so stoic. Her eyes gleam silver.
“Annabeth,” Piper says.
“I don’t care what it takes, Piper. If I have to, I’ll go down to the Underworld and face Hades himself to bring him back. I can’t let him down, not when he kept looking for me.”
Something in Piper’s gut squeezes.
She wants Annabeth to find Percy. She really does. But—
She’s worried, if she’s fully honest. She likes being Annabeth’s person; the one Annabeth turns to, with her hopes, her fears. When Percy comes back—and he will, because Piper has so much faith in Annabeth—he’ll be the person Annabeth goes to. He’s her best friend. And there’s a small, ugly part of Piper that can’t help but feel jealous.
//
June
Midway through June, Piper is awoken in the middle of the night. Annabeth, still clad in her sleep clothes with her blonde hair curling around her shoulders, stands above her, eyes wide.
“Wha… Annabeth?” Piper asks, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“I saw him. He was in my dream,” Annabeth says. It takes Piper a long second to figure out what Annabeth is saying, but Piper knows there’s only one thing that would make Annabeth this excited.
But Piper is uncertain. “Annabeth… are you sure it wasn’t just a regular dream?” she asks.
Annabeth, to her credit, is undisturbed. “No, Piper. It was real. I was in— we were in the woods somewhere, maybe on the west coast. And it— he looks different than how he looked in December, that’s how I know it was real. His hair is different, and he’s wearing— he’s wearing a purple shirt. Like the one Jason was wearing when we found you all. And he asked me if I was real. Piper, he’s alive, and he remembers me!”
And even if she has doubts about the validity of the dream, Piper can’t help but feel excited as well. “Okay,” Piper concedes. Annabeth’s smile is contagious— Gods, Annabeth is beaming right now—and Piper grins back at her. “What do we do next?”
And— it’s okay. She’s happy. Annabeth is ecstatic. Piper’s happy.
She repeats this to herself as Annabeth tells her about her dream.
The flight across the country in the Argo II takes five days. They’ve all been restless the entire trip, and Annabeth the most so. She’s been doing a lot of standing at the bow of the ship, squinting ahead, like Oakland will appear on the horizon if she just looks hard enough.
Jason, too, has been oddly silent, like he’s busy mentally preparing for whatever it means for him to return to his old camp. Piper has been splitting her time, half with Annabeth and half with Jason. For both of the blondes, she’s not sure how much time she’ll have with them after they meet with Camp Jupiter. Annabeth will have Percy, and Jason… well, none of them really know what’s waiting for Jason.
“It’s almost funny,” Annabeth tells her, a few days into the trip. “My dad and his family– they live in San Francisco. Less than twenty miles from Oakland. If I had visited him at all these past six months, I would have been closer to Percy than I was this entire time.”
“Well. We’re heading there now,” Piper says.
Annabeth smiles, and it seems more genuine than half the smiles Piper’s seen from her in the past six months. “We’re heading there now,” she repeats.
And then, suddenly, it’s time.
So Piper descends down the rope ladder. She stays at Jason’s side, allowing Annabeth to lead the way. They cut through the crowd of assembled demigods. She scans the faces of the Romans, trying to get a read on what their hosts are feeling. Nervous? Excited? Angry?
There’s more than just teenagers here, Piper realizes. There’s adults, and families, and old people wearing togas and jeans. Piper feels off-balanced. She recites in her head the words she’s planned. Lower your weapons , she practices, we just want to talk . Nobody’s holding any visible weapons, but she wouldn’t put it past someone to try to sneak something in. Better safe than sorry.
A girl around their age steps forward. She’s wearing full armor and a regal purple cape, and she’s got a strong nose, dark black hair, and apparently more confidence and composure than half the Greek demigods put together. Immediately, Piper knows that that’s Reyna.
She watches as Annabeth comes to a stop, about twenty paces away from Reyna. The two girls stand apart, sizing each other up.
Piper has prepared what to say. She’s practiced how to make them come off as friendly yet respectable neighbors. She’s ready to talk, ready to create this relationship between two worlds.
Then Annabeth bursts into a run. It’s so sudden that Piper flinches back in shock, a little worried that someone is being attacked or something. But things quickly click into place as she sees where Annabeth is heading. There’s a tall boy with messy black hair, wearing a purple t-shirt and white toga. Piper has never seen him in person, but she has no doubts about who it is. He’s got sea green eyes and a lopsided grin, and he starts running towards Annabeth. He throws his arms around her and she pulls him into a kiss. Piper feels it in her body like a gut punch, the way he holds her close, fingers firm on her hips. Annabeth pulls away after a moment, and after an almost-manic laugh, she judo-flips him over her shoulder, and proceeds to pin him down with a knee to his chest. “If you ever leave me again, I swear to all the gods—”
The boy—Percy, she knows it’s Percy—laughs. “Consider me warned,” he says, “I missed you, too.”
The conversation moves on, as Jason starts to talk to Reyna, but Piper watches. Annabeth and Percy can’t keep their eyes off of each other.
Piper lets out a breath. She reaches her hand out to find Jason’s, and links their fingers together. She knew this was an inevitability. She’ll be okay.
Jason squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back.