Chapter Text
Annabeth is stressed. This is stressful. It’s the heart-pounding, sweaty palm, mind-racing kind of stress that she has always done her best to avoid like it’s a plague. Anger is better, anger is much easier.
Annabeth is angry. She’s furious at the situation and basically everyone in it. Jason, for being so obnoxiously calm and collected (and for being here in general), at Piper for wanting to talk about feelings , at Leo for being so unhinged and hyperactive which she knows is all very hypocritical and rude of her, but she’s just so stressed that she’s physically aching with it. Her nervous system has been a wreck for months. She has to practically unscrew her jaw to do anything other than frown because of how often she sleeps clenching her teeth. And now? Oh, she’s a ticking time bomb, she’s a precariously constructed tower of spaghetti, marshmallows, and prayers. One wrong move, one breeze in the wrong direction could send her toppling to the ground. Even Grover has been subtly avoiding her during the maiden voyage of the Argo II, she suspects because she is probably giving him a stomachache.
(Tough. She’s had one since March. Her internal monologue has just been a running commentary about designs for the Argo II, a countdown to this date, and, the most pervasive, various scenarios she might face in relation to Percy and his memories. She’s imagined seemingly every possible scenario: a blank stare in response to Seaweed Brain , derision and disbelief at her claims to know him, open hostility, Percy remembering everything except for her, and, worst of all, Percy being exactly who she’s always known him to be and remembering everything. It’s obviously the best case scenario, but if Annabeth knows anything about their lives she knows that almost nothing is the best case scenario. It’s the most painful to imagine, because she can’t afford to hope for it, not when it’s taken so long for Jason to get his memories back. She has no clue what Percy will be like when she sees him again, but her brain seems to think that it does know, which honestly is just more stressful than it is helpful.)
Anyway. Stress. It seems to all be accumulating and rising to the surface at this moment.
It only grows as she feels the ship descend, as she makes her way up the stairs from the cabins and prepares herself to face - whatever she’s about to face.
Jason looks like more of a wreck than Annabeth has ever seen him look, which weirdly makes her feel so much better. The two of them share a commiserating, miserable look, and suddenly she feels like they understand each other now. The two of them are stressed, type-A personalities that overthink everything and plan for every eventuality, only to find out that they didn’t prepare for real life. She imagines what his daydreaming looks like these days, if it looks anything like hers does. She hopes not. She wouldn’t wish this on anybody.
It’s strange. Now that Percy is within her sights, that she knows she’s about to see him, she feels so much more compassionate.
(He always was her literal better half.)
“Everyone knows the plan, right?” Jason asks. His voice cracks on ‘right’. He’s such a mess, Annabeth doesn’t know how she didn’t see it before.
“There isn’t really a plan, is there? I mean. Really, we’re just hoping it goes well. And if it doesn’t…” Leo trails off. Piper flicks his ear with more flourish than is really necessary.
“Don’t even joke about that Leo. Seriously? Yes, Jason, we know the plan. You only went over it with us, like, twenty thousand times,” Piper gripes, rolling her eyes in exasperation. Annabeth doesn’t know who, exactly, she’s annoyed with. Maybe both of them. That checks out.
Annabeth takes a deep breath. “It’s going to be okay, Jason. We’re well prepared. You described Camp Jupiter perfectly, so we know where to go and what rules to follow. This is the prophecy. No matter what happens, there will be seven demigods on this ship when we leave, and that’s all that really matters, right?”
She’s aiming to be reassuring. She even looks Jason in the eyes again, and she sees that they’re a little brighter than usual, and he won’t quite meet hers. Seeing that, it feels like a punch to the gut. This is why she’s not the pep talk person. What was she thinking? Of course there are more important things to him than the prophecy. Did she learn nothing from the last one?
( “You’re a coward, Percy Jackson!”)
She tries to backtrack.
“I mean, obviously welcome home? And everything. Um. Yeah, it’ll be fine. I’m sure your friends will just be so excited to see you again. Right?” She looks desperately at Grover, hoping he’ll see the cry for help in her eyes and intervene. Luckily, he does, though not after giving her a bemused, exasperated side-eye.
“Jason,” Grover says, putting his hand on his shoulder, his voice reassuringly deep and calm and confident. Annabeth feels her shoulders automatically loosen, and sees Jason’s do the same. “Whatever happens, you’ll always have a place with us. You’re a great guy, and I know that if you suddenly went missing on us, we’d be dying to get you back. So get out there and give Reyna and Hazel the biggest hug you can.” Grover smiles at Jason, and Jason has this look of euphoric relief on his face, reminding Annabeth of how it felt to let go of the sky, like colors were brighter and gravity didn’t have its vice grip on her anymore and she was weightless. Anyway, Annabeth relates. After Grover’s speech, she feels the same way. She curls the gray streak in her hair around her finger, and Grover pats her knee. They share a look and she knows they’re thinking the same thing. For once, this shared thought doesn’t fill her chest with heavy dread, but bright hope instead.
The ship lands with a soft thud just outside the borders of the no-weapons zone, on what Jason had said was the war games field. There was no obstacle, so the Romans must have cleared it for them, which is a good sign.
Jason squares his shoulders at the door of the gangway, taking a deep breath. They’d decided that Jason would go first, negotiate peace if needed, then he would come and get the rest of them.
The walkway descends toward the ground, and Jason walks tall down the steps.