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Annabeth blinked her eyes open. Her eyelids were heavy with sleep, and it was hard to pull herself out of it. She blinked a couple of more times, trying to clear the cloudiness from her eyes. After a few moments, she finally realized that the haze wasn’t in her vision, but in the room itself. She closed her eyes again, realizing she was in an unfamiliar room and had no idea how she’d gotten there. She couldn’t hear anything in the room that signaled immediate danger, but it was hard to hear anything over the trickling sound of a fountain.
Annabeth opened back up her eyes. The last thing she remembered was clinging desperately to the Ironclad as it lifted higher and higher into the air. Annabeth turned her head to the side and jumped slightly when she saw a figure lying across the small room. She relaxed slightly when she saw the blue jacket and blonde curls, realizing it was Percy. He was still sleeping, his head turned slightly towards her. She sat up cautiously and looked around the room. It looked like she was in a giant bathroom, or maybe more accurately, a spa. The fountain that she’d heard was putting out hot steam into the air. Annabeth took out her knife and moved around the small space, breathing a sigh of relief when she noted that they seemed to be alone. There was an open doorway into another room that she couldn't see into because of all of the steam. Before she looked through that room, Annabeth turned her attention back to Percy, nerves kicking back up when she noted that he hadn’t moved an inch since she’d woken up.
She went over and sat on the bench next to him. “Percy,” She said softly, shaking his shoulder slightly. Percy gave no sign of waking; his face remained relaxed and peaceful. His chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and he had no visible injuries. One of his hands was resting on his chest. She took his wrist and felt his strong pulse. Annabeth rested his arm back on his chest and sat back slightly. He seemed okay. She wasn’t sure why she’d woken up before him. Maybe he’d needed more time to recover after using his powers on the Ironclad, maybe he’d gotten hurt, or maybe he’d arrived wherever they were after Annabeth had.
Whatever the reason, Percy currently seemed unharmed. Annabeth tried to calm her fears, but it was hard without him to reassure her in that steadfast way of his. She took a couple of breaths and watched him sleep, hoping to see those blue eyes open. The last time she'd seen him, he was trying to control the sea of monsters. His face had been a steely mask of determination. It was a look that she'd only seen him wear once before, when he'd created the tidal wave that had crashed into Ares. Annabeth knew that as a child of one of the big three, he was powerful, but it was sometimes easy to forget that when Percy was cracking jokes and playing dumb. The way he'd looked on the Ironclad, however, had shown her that she didn't know just how much power he wielded. Looking at him now, with his relaxed face and soft curls, he looked like a normal 13-year-old, not the son of Poseidon who had a Great Prophecy hanging over him.
“Wake up, Seaweed Brain, I could really use some of your endless optimism right about now,” Annabeth said. Everything had gone so wrong, so quickly. She had just confessed to Percy her fears about human choices, and then that very thing had led to disaster. No matter how much Annabeth believed her plan had been the best choice, it hadn’t mattered because she hadn’t been able to convince Clarisse of that. Annabeth might be good at strategy and planning, but she was bad at people.
The boy lying in front of her was good at people. Even if it was frustrating at times, she could always rely on him to remind her of the human element. Yet, he’d backed her plan with Scylla without hesitation. A plan that intentionally sacrificed Clarisse’s soldiers. Maybe he hadn’t considered the ghosts part of humanity. Or maybe he’d learned to trust her instincts when it came to strategy. Annabeth was glad for the trust, but she hoped it didn’t come at the price of his trusting his own instincts.
"C'mon, Percy, I really need you to wake up," Annabeth said, tapping his cheek lightly. He didn't respond, and Annabeth leaned back, letting her thoughts wander to everything she might have done differently on the Ironclad.
After almost ten minutes, she stood up. She had to move, had to do something useful. She was going to drive herself mad if she continued to sit there and wait for Percy to wake up. Annabeth wandered around the small room. There were two exits, one double-doored exit that looked like the main exit, and another open doorway that looked like it led to another room.
Annabeth opted to go into the room next to theirs. She took out her knife, not sure what she’d be walking into. It was a similar-looking space, and there was just as much steam filling the air. It might’ve been a harmless steam room, but Annabeth was suspicious about the lack of visibility. She wandered slowly around the room, checking all of the corners. There weren’t any other exits, and there didn’t appear to be anyone else in the space.
“Hello?” Annabeth heard the distant sound of Percy calling out and moved back to the room she’d woken up in. She didn’t answer him back, just in case his call had alerted someone who would be a danger to them. She hurried towards him, and by the time she’d reached the main room, he was moving to open the main door.
“Don’t go out there, I haven’t had time to make a full scout,” She said in way of greeting.
“Oh, you’re…” Percy trailed off, looking at her. She didn’t need him to finish the sentence. She felt the same way seeing him up and moving. Immense relief that was quickly eclipsed by the fear of the unknown.
Annabeth tried to see if he could sense where they were. He’d told her about his abilities to sense exactly where he was in the ocean. Before he could answer her, they were interrupted by Hylla. The next thing Annabeth knew, Percy was sitting back on the bench, thinking Tyson and Clarisse were dead.
Annabeth didn’t know how to comfort him, she’d always struggled when it came to dealing with the emotions of others, and Percy tended to feel things to the extreme. She'd learned to appreciate that he wore his heart on his sleeve, but it did make it hard for her to comfort him in times like this. She tried to use logic to help him, telling him that Tyson was fireproof and he could still be alive.
“We lost…” Percy said, looking more broken than she’d ever seen him look before. “Everything.” Annabeth’s stomach did a flip, and she straightened. She didn’t know how to console him. She couldn’t tell him that it would all be okay or that they’d figure it out because she wasn’t sure if that’d be true. Percy had lost the brother he’d only just gained, and she knew exactly how that felt. She still felt the pain of losing Thalia.
Annabeth watched him for a few moments. Waiting to see if he would look back up at her. Waiting to see if he’d crack a joke or find some humor in the horror the way he normally did. Waiting to see if she could figure out a way to break him out of the stupor.
“Stay here,” She said finally, at a loss for what else to do. “I’m going to scout ahead.” Annabeth gripped her knife and was out of the door before he had a chance to respond.