Work Text:
The hospital room was quiet except for the steady rhythm of the heart monitor and the soft hum of the air conditioning. Penny Jackson shifted slightly against the pillows, blinking away the last fog of anesthesia. The world felt lighter. Her body—though still sore, tender, stitched in places she couldn’t see—felt right in a way it never had before.
Annabeth sat at her side, her storm-gray eyes locked on Penny like she was the most important thing in the world. Maybe she was. Annabeth’s hand rested gently over Penny’s, thumb tracing lazy circles over her knuckles. She had been there through every appointment, every consultation, every nervous breakdown and hopeful smile. And now she was here for the aftermath—the start of something new.
“You’re awake,” Annabeth said softly, voice thick with relief. She leaned forward, her braids falling forward, the blonde ends catching the light like sunlight on storm clouds.
Penny let out a small laugh. Her throat ached from the breathing tube, but she didn’t care. “I’m awake. Still alive. Guess Chiron didn’t need to wheel me to the Underworld just yet.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a smile. “Don’t even joke. I’d have marched down there myself and dragged you back.”
Penny’s blue-green eyes softened. They shimmered when she smiled, the same eyes that once mirrored the sea but now seemed brighter, freer. “You’d fight Hades for me?”
“I already borrow money from him,” Annabeth teased, squeezing Penny’s hand. “Might as well go for the full family discount.”
Penny snorted, then winced at the pull in her chest. She looked down, careful not to shift too much, but she caught sight of the slight curve beneath the hospital gown, the bandages tight around her torso. Her heart stuttered. For so long, she had dreamed of this—her body, finally beginning to reflect who she really was.
Her eyes watered before she realized it. Annabeth noticed instantly. “Hey, hey,” she whispered, leaning close. “What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”
“No,” Penny choked out, smiling through the tears. “I’m… happy. Like, stupidly happy. It feels real now. I’m me. Finally me.”
Annabeth brushed a tear from her cheek, thumb warm and steady. “You’ve always been you. But now the world can finally see it too.”
---
The days blurred together at first—nurses checking vitals, doctors discussing recovery timelines, friends dropping by with gifts and flowers. Hazel brought a bouquet of wildflowers she claimed had “sprouted just for Penny.” Nico awkwardly handed her a box of blue-frosted cupcakes, muttering something about Hazel making him buy them, though Penny swore she saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward when she squealed over the frosting.
“They used Underworld money for this,” Annabeth whispered later, sitting on the edge of Penny’s bed while Penny licked frosting off her fingers. “Literally. I think it came from a treasure vault under some cursed river.”
“Then this is the most expensive cupcake I’ve ever eaten,” Penny joked, crumbs clinging to her lips.
Annabeth laughed, leaning down to kiss them away. Penny melted into the touch, her whole body humming at the tenderness of it.
---
When Penny was finally discharged, Annabeth wheeled her out in a ridiculous blue blanket Hazel had knitted. The sun outside was warm, the sky blindingly bright, and Penny lifted her face toward it with a grin.
Annabeth glanced at her, eyes soft. “You look lighter,” she murmured. “Like… you finally get to breathe.”
Penny tilted her head. Her dirty-blonde hair fell around her shoulders, the black roots unapologetically visible. She didn’t care. “I *am* lighter. And I like it this way.”
She still wore blue, of course. The skirt Annabeth had brought from home was sky-colored, soft cotton that brushed her knees. It wasn’t the first time Penny had worn skirts, but it was the first time she felt like no one could take that away from her.
Back at their apartment, Annabeth helped Penny settle into bed. She was careful—gentle, precise, the way she always was when Penny needed her. Annabeth peeled off Penny’s hospital socks, replacing them with her favorite fuzzy blue pair, then tucked the blanket around her.
“You’re fussing,” Penny teased.
“You just got out of surgery, Jackson. Of course I’m fussing.” Annabeth crossed her arms, though her smirk gave her away. “Don’t make me braid your hair into a crown so you can’t move without undoing it.”
“Wouldn’t mind,” Penny admitted, smiling. “You always make me feel like royalty.”
Annabeth’s face softened, all pretense of playfulness melting away. “You are. You always have been. And I—” She hesitated, words catching in her throat, then reached forward to brush a strand of hair from Penny’s face. “I’m proud of you. For everything. For fighting for yourself. For never giving up.”
Penny’s heart squeezed. She took Annabeth’s hand, holding it against her cheek. “I only got here because you believed in me. When I was scared, you weren’t. When I doubted, you reminded me. I don’t think I’d have had the courage without you.”
Annabeth shook her head. “The courage was always yours. I just… walked beside you.”
They lay together then, the quiet of the room wrapping around them. Penny’s breathing slowed, exhaustion from the long days catching up to her. Annabeth hummed softly, her voice low and steady.
Before sleep took her, Penny whispered, “I can’t wait for everything. Dresses. Swimming. Just… living as me.”
Annabeth pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll do it all. I promise. Every dream, every plan—you and me. Always.”
Recovery wasn’t easy. There were nights Penny ached so badly she cried into Annabeth’s shoulder, hating her fragile body. There were mornings she stared into the mirror, still adjusting to the reflection staring back. But through it all, Annabeth stayed—gentle hands rubbing her back, quiet words of reassurance, fierce reminders that Penny was exactly where she was meant to be.
Weeks later, Penny stood in front of that same mirror, hair brushed, skirt swishing around her knees, a blue blouse soft against her skin. She turned, examining the way her body curved now, how her chest filled the fabric just right.
Annabeth stood behind her, chin resting on Penny’s shoulder. “Told you,” she murmured. “You’re beautiful.”
Penny’s eyes shimmered again, but this time she didn’t cry. She smiled, radiant, the kind of smile that made Annabeth’s heart stutter. “For the first time,” Penny whispered, “I believe you.”
Annabeth kissed her cheek. “Good. Because I’m never going to stop saying it.”
That night, Penny curled up on the couch in Annabeth’s arms, wrapped in the blue blanket Hazel made. The TV played quietly in the background, but neither of them paid it much attention. Penny traced circles on Annabeth’s palm, her heart steady, her soul at peace.
“This is it,” Penny said softly. “The start of everything.”
Annabeth kissed the top of her head. “The start of everything,” she echoed.
And for once, Penny didn’t doubt it.