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Annabeth sighed as she walked into the bathroom.
Percy hadn't self-harmed in a few months, but he'd been really stressed the past week, and now here he stood, a razor blade in one hand and blood dripping from the opposite arm.
"Can you set the blade down, love?" she gently asked. He silently did as he was told, and she made quick work of discarding the blade and retrieving first aid supplies from under the sink.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly as she sat by him and began to clean up the wound and surrounding skin with an alcohol pad. He winced at the burning sensation, but he knew it was important, so he did not complain.
"I'm sorry" he muttered as tears sprang to his eyes. He felt like such an idiot.
"It's okay" she soothed. "One relapse doesn't undo the fact that you went several months clean" she continued. "I know this is addictive, and I'm proud of your progress"
"I just got so stressed"
"I know" she nodded, holding his arm still as she applied a thick bandage. The wound site felt warm and itchy, but Percy did his best not to mess with it. "All done"
"Thank you..."
"No need, Seaweed Brain"