Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When the Waves Come Ashore:

Summer, 2007

Percy wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up here.

When his mom had insisted on sending him to summer camp, he wasn’t all that thrilled. He knew she was just trying to keep him away from Smelly Gabe, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like being forced out of his house, away from his mom, just so he wouldn’t have to deal with his stupid stepfather. He’d take Gabe over two and a half months away from his mother.

Upon arrival, he’d given her some grief by refusing to get out of the car. He really didn’t feel like going out there to meet new kids who would surely be as cruel to him as every single classmate he’d ever had. Only at the sight of tears springing into his mom’s eyes did he relent. He was upset, but he wasn’t upset enough to be okay with making his mother cry. This must have been as hard for her as it was for him. She only kept on smiling to try and ease up some of his worries.

So she’d left him at the camp after promising to keep in touch and write him as many letters as she could get away with. And Percy had just watched her drive away, leaving him in this unknown valley filled with about a hundred other kids.

His mom had told him the camp should feel better than any of his schools, since the kids there were some kind of family. Distant family. From his dad’s side. He wasn’t sure how to feel about having to spend time with the side of the family that had documented stories about rape, murder, violence and genuine monsters, but he figured his mom was probably right about it feeling different to his schools. At least all these kids were like him in a way.

It didn’t help that he was the only Poseidon kid and was forced to stay in cabin three all by himself, though. That part absolutely sucked. It made him feel like a pariah. All the other kids got to share their cabins with their siblings, yet he had to sleep by himself, and most of the camp activities that the other campers could do with their siblings, Percy had to do by himself.

Eventually he did manage to get a little closer to one of the satyrs that went to the camp. Grover was timid and awkward and seemed to be a little alienated by the other satyrs, but Percy thought he was nice and friendly. And when the guy offered to stay with Percy in cabin three so neither one of them would be alone, it was like they had made a wordless friendship pact. Since then, they ate together, they joined the camp activities together, and they even managed to prank a couple of Hermes kids without getting caught.

In short, Grover was a ray of light in the insufferable stay at this stupid camp. A week and a half into his stay there, he was finally beginning to feel at peace. With his new friend and the letters from his mom and the bags of blue candy he was nearly finished eating, he actually believed there might be a chance he would make it past this summer without it being too awful.

But then Grover had to go to the Big House for a chat with the camp director, and Percy was left to wander around the different activities by himself, looking for something to do.

Seriously, he wasn’t sure how he ended up sitting across from the blond Athena girl, staring at a chess board. Yet here he was.

He’d never played chess in his life. He didn’t know the rules or the names of the pieces. He was actually prepared to just breeze right past the game without a second look, but his eyes had caught on the girl sitting at the table and his steps just faltered against his will.

She was just sitting there, impatiently tapping the tabletop with one finger while leaning her chin on her other hand. He must have seen her before in passing, or maybe he’d seen one of her siblings who all shared the same features, to the point where it was kind of difficult to distinguish them from one another. Her blond hair was tied back with a scrunchie, and her eyes were hooded boredly as she seemed to wait for a partner to offer to play against her.

And Percy wasn’t sure what had possessed him to approach her table and take a seat opposite her. Maybe it was the fact that she looked as alone as he felt. Or the tiny voice of his mom whispering in his ear that it would be rude to ignore her when she could use a partner for this game. Or maybe it was as superficial as him giving her stormy gray eyes one look and thinking she was kind of cute.

He tried not to dwell on that last thought.

But, well, now he found himself sitting opposite a girl who genuinely wanted to play chess… and he had no idea what to do.

“Um,” he greeted.

“White starts,” she prompted him when he stared at her blankly.

Percy looked at the board and realized he was white. So, without thinking about it too hard, he twisted the board around. The blonde girl quirked an eyebrow but didn’t seem to mind. She merely grabbed one of the little pieces and moved it two blocks forward. Then she gave Percy an expectant look.

What in Hades was he supposed to do?

Hoping this wasn’t the wrong move, he copied her own move. She didn’t seem to find it unorthodox in any way. She just moved another one of her pawns. Percy decided to stick to his strategy and just keep on doing as she was doing.

It last three rounds before she leveled him with a flat look.

“You don’t know how to play, do you?” she said.

“Not a clue,” he admitted. “This is chess, right?”

The girl groaned. “Why are you even here, then?”

“Oh, uh… you looked lonely.”

Her lips pressed together. Percy tried not to stare too much. He wasn’t used to being around girls in general, let alone talking to one. The ones at his schools always steered clear of him, like he had some kind of infectious disease. The closest thing to a friendship he had with a girl, was when he had to do a chemistry project with Jackie Skeevie and nearly seared off her eyebrows. After that incident, she developed the habit of giving him a wide berth every time their paths crossed.

So this was uncharted territory, and he was kind of glad there was nothing around that could end up blowing in this girl’s face. He didn’t really want this to become his reputation at the camp as well. It was bad enough to suffer through this during the school year.

Just when he was about to excuse himself and just leave her be, the girl leaned back in her chair and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Percy Jackson. You?”

“Annabeth Chase.” She shifted her legs under the table and accidentally kicked him. “I can just teach you how to play, Percy.”

He scrunched up his nose. “It’s a strategy game, right? I don’t think I’m going to be any good at that, honestly.”

“What are you good at?”

Without hesitation, he pointed in the direction of the lake and said, “Canoe racing.”

She appraised him carefully. “Oh. So you’re the son of Poseidon, huh? I heard we got one this year.” At his inquiring look, she explained, “I’ve been returning to this camp every summer since I was seven. I’m pretty sure there hasn’t been a Poseidon half-blood here since before World War II. The rumor spread quickly.”

“Oh. I guess it makes sense.” He picked up one of the pawns just so he’d have something to fidget with. “Do you like it here?”

“Beats being home and babysitting my twin brothers.”

“Are they children of Athena, too?”

Annabeth blew a loose strand of hair away from her face. “No. They’re my stepbrothers, really. Mortal like the rest of the family. I guess they’re okay for the most part, but I’d rather not look after them all the time. And the campers here are nice.”

“I guess.”

Her head tipped to the side. “You don’t like the camp?”

“It’s not that the camp is the problem. I’d just rather be home with my mom.” He frowned down at the regal face of one of the white little chess pieces. “But I think she didn’t want to have to break up fights between me and my stepfather, so she sent me here.”

“You don’t get along?” She sounded understanding, like she could relate to the feeling.

Percy met her gaze for a brief moment, then quickly averted it once again. He shrugged, as if that was a proper response to the question. He assumed it was, because Annabeth didn’t ask him to elaborate. She just nodded a little and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

His eyes tracked the motion and he found himself once again shoving the thought that she was cute to the back of his mind. It wasn’t her he liked, probably. It was most likely just his brain responding to the fact that a girl was actually having a conversation with him. That was it. He was just hanging on to her specifically because she was the first girl to not pull away from him in disgust. It was honestly pathetic, he decided.

Her leg bumped against his again. Annabeth didn’t apologize, but she did send him a brief, awkward smile. When he returned it, her body seemed to relaxed a little.

“Canoe racing sounds like fun,” she said eventually.

He blinked. “Huh?”

“You said you’re good at that.”

“I mean—yes. But we don’t have to. You wanted to play chess.”

She huffed. “You don’t know how to play chess. Even if I do manage to teach you, it’ll probably take too long before we can actually play properly. I’ll just play against someone else some other time. Come on, racing would be nice, too.”

He stared at her as she pushed away from the table and stretched a little. Eyes darting toward the Big House, he found himself wondering what Grover would think if he finished his chat with the camp director and couldn’t find Percy anywhere. But the satyr was still clearly not done—no one was coming out of the Big House. And someone other than his new friend was finally offering to spend some time with him. He would have to be an idiot to decline the offer.

So, scrambling to his feet, Percy followed Annabeth toward the lake. A smile crept onto his face at the easy-going conversation they managed to strike. He felt a little bashful and awkward still, but honestly, talking to her was easier than he had expected. And later, after he won the race and splashed her in the face to stop her discontent grumbles, he was happy to note that she took it like a champ by retaliating and trying to splash him, too.

And if he let himself get wet just so he could hear her triumphant laughter, she didn’t have to know.

✧ ✧ ✧

Summer, 2007

“Name that one.”

“Which one?”

“Those five stars over there. They kind of zigzag, see?”

“Ursa Major, right?”

“Perrr-cy! That’s not even close!”

“Andromeda?”

“You’re terrible at this, Seaweed Brain.”

“I told you guys,” he whined. “I don’t know the names of the constellations!”

Grover, Annabeth and Percy were lying on the roof of the Poseidon cabin, staring up at the starry sky. He was kind of amazed they could even see that many stars from the camp, but then he realized maybe there was some kind of magic that enabled it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. It was kind of nice not knowing the answer to every single wondering thought he had.

It was Grover’s idea to stargaze together. And, honestly, Percy had no real interest in the stars, but he was just so glad honestly two friends at the camp were getting along and willing to spend time together, he would have said yes to anything. Had Grover suggested scooping poop at the stables, Percy would have at least considered it.

It helped that Percy had had the bright idea to bring with him what was left of his blue snacks his mom had given him at the beginning of summer. Grover and Annabeth mostly let him eat them in peace while also pointing out different constellations, but once they realized just how clueless he was, they seemed to bask in the frustration and embarrassment he felt at his lack of knowledge.

Elbowing his side, Annabeth said, “Well, you should know this one.”

“Why?” He squinted up at the random shape Grover had tracked for him earlier. “It’s not Perseus, is it?”

“No. That’s the one over there. See that crooked line of eight stars? Over there. That’s Perseus. And over there is Andromeda. You know, the one he saved.” Annabeth shot him a look. “You do know that, right?”

He kicked her shin a little at the skepticism in her voice. He did know that, thank you very much.

Maybe oblivious to this, or maybe determined to draw their attention before Annabeth could retaliate, Grover told Percy, “This is Cassiopeia. She was a mortal queen from North Africa who bragged about being more beautiful than the Nereids.”

Percy scrunched up his nose. “Let me guess—my dad didn’t like that.”

“Well… no. He sent a giant sea serpent to terrorize the coast of her home,” the satyr said.

“Oh, wait. Wasn’t she Andromeda’s mother?” Percy recalled. “She sacrificed her own daughter, right? Why she ever thought that would work, I have no idea…”

“At least Andromeda was okay in the end,” said Annabeth. “It could have been a whole lot worse.”

Squinting up at the stars, Percy determined, “Cassiopeia’s constellation is stupid-looking.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. Grover just snickered, then stifled a yawn.

“Man, I’m beat,” said Grover.

“It’s from climbing up the climbing wall, like, a dozen times earlier,” said Percy. “I was exhausted just from looking at you. What was that about?”

Snorting good-naturedly, Annabeth said, “Isn’t it obvious? He was showing off to the wood nymph that was lurking nearby. Didn’t you see her, Percy? She wasn’t hiding very well. And she so was staring at Grover the entire time. You didn’t have to show off, goat boy. She was already clearly into you.”

Completely flushed, Grover spluttered a denial. When all it earned him was laughter from the other two, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared up at the constellations, as if they were the ones mocking him. And maybe Percy would have felt a little bad, but considering how relentless Grover had been the previous day as he’d teased Percy for his obvious crush on Annabeth, he decided he didn’t care.

“You know what? I don’t need to take this abuse,” said Grover. “I’m going to bed.”

“What? It’s been half an hour,” objected Percy. “And this was your idea!”

“Well, you guys can stay, you know.” The satyr got up and shot Percy a smirk as he pointedly added, “You can spend some alone time together, can’t you, Perce?”

Percy hoped his utter irritation was delivered properly through his glare. But if it did, it didn’t seem to faze his friend all that much. The satyr just made it to the edge of the roof and started climbing carefully down to the ground, Annabeth bidding him a good night. Percy took a moment longer to join her, and he was pretty sure his voice was tight and dripping with annoyance.

And then it was just the two of them, gazing up at the stars with the dark, quiet camp surrounding them.

He had no idea what to do with himself, so he started tugging at the ridges of his orange T-shirt. He stopped the moment his elbow accidentally grazed Annabeth’s arm. The way she shifted beside him in response made him actually pray to his dad in the hopes that he would just strike him down right then and there. Anything was better than sharing an awkward silence.

When the moment lingered for far too long, Percy decided to wisely cut it off with an articulate: “So.”

As if the spell was broken, Annabeth moved to lie on her side. It was difficult to see her face at night, but when he realized she was watching him, he awkwardly turned to face her, too. When their knees brushed, he was prepared to withdraw back. But she didn’t react to it, nor did she pull back. So he experimentally remained in place.

“Can I ask you a question?” she said.

“Um. Sure.”

She tucked her hands under her cheek and asked, “What’s the deal with the blue food?”

“Oh.” He cast the near-empty bag of candy a self-conscious look. “It’s this thing… my mom started it. My stepfather once told her there was no such thing as blue food, and ever since then, she’s been going out of her way to try and make anything blue.”

Annabeth’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought it had something to do with Poseidon and water and stuff.”

“Nope.”

“Huh.” He could just barely make out the smile forming on her face. “Kind of a stupid thing for him to say, really. I mean, blueberries are blue. And blue food coloring is a thing. He made it real easy to prove he was wrong.”

Percy snorted. “He’s not the smartest.”

“You don’t say.” She paused for a moment, then knocked her knee against his and said, “Why is your mom with him, then? None of your stories about the guy make it sound like he’s a loving husband or anything.”

He blew some air in irritation. “I wish I knew.”

He started scratching the roof with his finger absentmindedly, acutely aware of Annabeth’s eyes that were trained on him. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted her to keep on looking at him or finally take the pressure off his shoulders and avert her gaze. So he didn’t say anything, and she kept on staring.

The silence was back. He tried to focus on the sounds coming from the forest nearby. He could hear the rustling of leaves, the distant chatters of the nature spirits and some howls and growls of creatures he didn’t feel like running into. An owl hooted nearby, which made him wonder if Athena was spying on them, making sure Annabeth wasn’t going to get murdered by a son of her rival. The thought was ludicrous, but the stories about the gods always sounded absurd to him.

A flash of movement caught his eye and he dragged his gaze away from his finger and over to Annabeth just in time to see her face getting really close. He went to ask her what was wrong, but then was rendered speechless by the feather-light, flitting brush of her lips against his. His breath caught in his throat and he could have sworn that for a moment or two his heart stopped beating, too stunned to function.

He gawped at Annabeth, who was back to resting her cheek over her hands. Her gray eyes darted between his face and the roof. He was pretty sure he could see her cheek darkening a little. She was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, and her knee was lightly jerking restlessly.

“You—” he spluttered. “You just—”

The corner of her lip tipped up as she said, “You should see your face. You look ridiculous right now.”

His face felt extremely hot. He hoped it wasn’t too noticeable in the dark, but figured that if he could see her blush, she could most likely see his as well.

Annabeth’s eyes finally settled on his face, visibly searching for something. “Was this your first…?”

“Um… yeah. Yes.” His voice sounded weird even to his own ears, but he tried to ignore it. “Are you kidding? I never even talked to a girl before this summer. No one in my schools would have been caught dead talking to me.”

“Their loss,” she said.

Percy chuckled incredulously. Then he hesitantly asked, “Did you ever… I mean, before today—”

“No. It’s a first for me, too.” She wet her lips and Percy guiltily tracked the motion. “I should have probably asked before just kissing you, come to think of it. Was it okay?”

“Yes!” He cringed at his own loud volume and smiled bashfully at the sound of Annabeth’s startled snickers. “Sorry. But yes. It was. It was totally okay. Sorry.”

“You said that already.” Her voice was amused now.

He brushed his bangs back and muttered, “Right. I just meant—sorry for being weird. I was just… you kind of caught me off guard. I don’t think I’m thinking straight. My brain is…”

Annabeth nudged his knee with hers. “Seaweed.”

“I guess that works. And, you know, for the record—feel free to do it again. If you ever feel like it, that is.”

Rolling back on her back to face the open sky, Annabeth said, “If you can name a constellation and point it out, I will.”

He followed her line of sight and stared at the twinkling stars hanging above their heads. His head was still spinning. He felt too light and too heavy at the same time. His heart was beating in his chest like crazy and his pulse was probably skyrocketing. Warmth was filling his stomach and his skin tingled, as if extremely aware of the tiny space separating the two of them right now.

His eyes looked blankly at the sky above. There was no chance he was going to be able to find any constellations like this. He couldn’t even find the stupid Cassiopeia one that looked like an M. Still, he searched the sky desperately, looking for anything that would look familiar or ring a bell. But all he could think about was Annabeth, Annabeth, Annabeth.

“Oh, man,” he muttered hopelessly.

She laughed at him.

“Fine, whatever,” he admitted defeat. “See if I care.”

“You clearly do.”

He scrunched up his nose and shoved her shoulder a little. It only made her laugh some more.

The next day, though, Percy dragged Grover away from everyone else and practically begged his friend to teach him how to recognize a bunch of constellations. His satyr friend clearly found it baffling and curious, but he didn’t seem to mind. They spent almost two hours bent over an astrology book the camp had in store, pointing out different constellations and stars. Percy forgot most of it in under five minutes. But he did his best.

So, two days later, when Percy and Annabeth once again snuck out after curfew to stargaze on top of the cabin roof, he confidently pointed out at a bunch of stars and said, “Okay, Wise Girl. See those? They’re a part of the Astraea constellation.”

“The Astraea constellation,” she repeated.

“Yup.”

“Interesting,” she said with a hum.

 He narrowed his eyes at her. “What? I said something stupid, didn’t I?”

She chuckled. “It’s not that stupid. You’re pointing out Virgo, which people believe represents the goddess Astraea. So you just mixed up the names. Is that what you and Grover have been doing the past couple of days?”

He figured that no matter what he said, he would still sound pathetic. So he just went ahead and remained silent. A part of him was astounded at the fact that he somehow managed to forget everything he and Grover had learned. Another part was distracted by the feeling of his arm brushing against Annabeth’s.

“Should this count?” Annabeth pondered aloud. “Technically, you didn’t name the constellation.”

“Oh, come on!”

Shifting, she moved to lie on her side. Percy did the same a moment after, trying to ignore his disappointment in himself. He kind of just wanted to smack his head against something because it was failing him anyway. But instead he focused on the shadowed eyes that were very clearly searching his face for something.

“Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“I vote we change Virgo’s name to Astraea. It’s a better name anyway.”

He had to bite his lip to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. “Definitely. Love that name.”

There was a chance he would have kept on blabbering, but she shut him up with a kiss. And then a few more. And he honestly couldn’t say he was all too upset about it.

✧ ✧ ✧

Summer, 2007

Percy was uncomfortable and awkward and baffled out of his mind. He walked along the beach with Drew Tanaka by his side, a daughter of Aphrodite, and despite the weird fog in his mind managed to wonder how in the world he ended up here.

He was pretty sure he’d made plans with Annabeth for this afternoon. They were going to go for a swim in the lake to celebrate his birthday, which he was actually looking forward to. But then Drew approached him and asked if he’d like to go for a walk on the beach with her, and against all logic, he’d said yes. The entire memory of the moment was hazy in his head, but he was almost certain Annabeth had given him a betrayed look as Drew whisked him away.

And the thing was—every time he tried to tell Drew he needed to go, she somehow convinced him not to. He wasn’t sure how. It drove him crazy, because he felt compelled to stay while also knowing very clearly that he had to leave. He had never even spoken to Drew before today. He’d caught her sneaking glances in his direction a bunch of times in the last few days, yes, but he’d always dismissed it. He knew nothing about her. He wasn’t exactly all too intrigued about her either.

But now she was talking about herself, about her mortal dad, about how wonderful it was to be a daughter of Aphrodite. He hummed to show that he was paying attention, although none of her words really settled in his head. He was far more preoccupied wondering why he was bothering walking beside her. The water of the Long Island Sound lapped near his feet invitingly—much more so than Drew’s presence on his other side.

His frown deepened when Drew took his hand and started swinging it between them. When he went to try and snatch it away, she kept on talking and the urge faded. A frustrated screech in the back of his head lingered, though.

Stuck there, Percy decided to just make the best of a bad situation. He finally relented and drifted closer to the water. He had shoes on, but he didn’t pay it any mind as he stepped into the surf. Drew still kept on walking along the beach, and he followed reluctantly, but the feeling of the water brushing against his feet was nice. Especially since he made sure they wouldn’t soak his shoes—that would suck.

And the thing was that now that he was in the water, he found the fog lifting a little from his head. Drew kept on speaking to him enthusiastically, but he had a much easier time concentrating now. His thoughts became clearer, his contempt regarding this entire situation strengthening. He still wasn’t sure what was going on, but he found it was actually possible for him to think without getting distracted by the girl by his side.

“Drew,” he said.

“So I told my dad he had to get the green shirt and not the beige. I mean, he would have looked ridiculous otherwise. Beige really isn’t his color. You know?” she said sweetly.

“Drew, I need to go.”

She looked at him a little strangely and her smile wavered. “Oh, but Percy, I thought you wanted to hear this story.”

He frowned. “I already made plans with Annabeth.”

“But—”

Twisting his hand, Percy managed to free it from her hold. He muttered an apology, although a part of him wondered if she even deserved an apology when he was getting quite convinced she must have been using some kind of magic on him this entire time. Before she could say anything else, he turned on his heel and walked back the way they came from, making sure he kept his feet in the surf the entire time so his mind would remain clear.

The further away from her he got, the more certain he was that there was some kind of power Aphrodite kids had that he hadn’t been aware of. There had to be. Because he couldn’t explain his own actions in any other way. Why else would he immediately accept Drew’s suggestion? Why else would he walk away despite seeing the offended, dejected look on Annabeth’s face? Gods, he hoped Drew had used some kind of spell on him and he wasn’t actually this much of a jerk.

He walked around camp, keeping his eyes peeled for Annabeth. He searched all of the activities campers were doing, scanning for the familiar face of his friend. A few times his heart leapt at seeing a blond head only to plummet back down at the realization that it was another camper—usually one of Annabeth’s siblings.

Not having any luck outside, he made his way to cabin six. The door was ajar, enabling him to see the campers inside. None of them were Annabeth, unfortunately, but he did recognize one of her brothers. He thought his name was Malcolm.

“Oh, hey, Percy,” the boy greeted, looking up from the Greek book he was reading.

“Hey. Do you know where Annabeth is?”

Malcolm shrugged. “Last I saw, she was headed toward the Aphrodite cabin. Maybe she’s there. But—er—she looked kind of terrifying, man. Maybe you should give her some space for a little while.”

He wasn’t all that surprised to hear Annabeth was upset. So he mumbled something back and left in the direction of cabin ten. The door of this cabin was closed, so he knocked and waited until a young girl’s voice said it was okay to come in. But as he blinked at the organized beds and the three younger campers sitting on one of the beds, he was disappointed to once again see no hint of Annabeth.

“Do you guys know where Annabeth is?” he asked. “I heard she was here earlier.”

“Oh, yeah…” an eleven-year-old boy said. “She and Silena were whispering about something in the corner, and then Annabeth dragged her away.”

A girl nodded and curled a strand of hair around her finger. “Silena looked worried, didn’t she? But they haven’t mentioned where they were going. Sorry.”

With a sigh, Percy left the three and closed the door again. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he kicked the dirt at his feet in frustration and stifled the urge to curse. He could see Grover walking a little ways away, nervously chatting with a wood nymph called Juniper. For a second he contemplated asking them if they had seen Annabeth, but the two looked so caught up in each other, Percy was certain they would have missed their friends even if they stared them right in the eye.

“Percy!” a voice called.

He turned to face the direction he’d come from, where the Long Island Sound was, and brightened up instantly. Annabeth was jogging toward him, with the girl who must have been Silena trailing behind her at a slower pace. They both looked relieved to see him there.

Despite being happy to have finally found Annabeth, he found himself grimacing and bracing for a punch to the shoulder or something. Instead, he fumbled to catch Annabeth when she collided with him, throwing her arms around him and nearly knocking them both to the ground. Not that he was going to complain about getting hugged rather than judo flipped or anything. He definitely preferred this.

“Hey, Wise Girl,” he said. “I was looking for you.”

“We were, too,” she said. Her breath tickled his neck and he had to suppress a shiver. “We only found Drew. She told us you already left.”

Stepping closer, Silena said, “And she promised not to use charmspeak on you again.”

“Charmspeak?”

“It’s a power some of the Aphrodite kids have,” she explained. “Like an influential power in our voices. I try not to use it on others if I can, but Drew doesn’t really see anything wrong about getting what she wants like that. I’m sorry about that, Percy.”

He shook his head as Annabeth let him go. “It’s fine. I figured it was something like that.”

Smiling, she nodded and pointed at her cabin. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. Let me know if she breaks her promise and does it again, but she shouldn’t. Hopefully. I’ll see you guys later.”

She left Annabeth and Percy alone. He could have sworn she sent Annabeth an inconspicuous wink over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

“I’m sorry I just left,” he said after a moment.

“It’s okay. It’s not like you had a choice.” She took his hand and squeezed reassuringly. Unlike with Drew, this time Percy felt no inclination to pull away. “And it was kind of obvious something was wrong with you. You looked so dazed all of a sudden. It was ridiculous.”

He huffed. “Shut up.”

She smiled for a moment, but then her lips tugged down and she uneasily said, “Anyway, it’s not like you did anything wrong. I mean, we never said we were… anything, really. You can do whatever you want with whoever you want, I guess.”

Technically, he knew she was right. It’s been weeks since Annabeth had first kissed him, and ever since they kept on sneaking more kisses here and there, usually when they were left alone. But they never discussed it. Percy kept on wanting to bring it up, but was never sure how to broach the subject without sounding awkward and somewhat pathetic. Besides, he was kind of mortified talking about it would bring an end to whatever it was they were doing.

“Um. Right.” He shifted uncomfortably.

“Come on,” she said, her smile looking mildly strained. “We still have some time before it gets dark. We can still go to the lake for a little while.”

Percy let her lead the way. He stared at the back of her head the entire time, nearly smacking into a tree or two on the way. She shot him an inquiring look at that but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure if she could feel the stifling silence like he could. In his opinion, she did look a little more tense than she normally did, but it could have been caused by any number of things.

Spending time in the water did help, at least. The moment Percy set foot inside the canoe lake, his head cleared again. He felt more at ease, in his element. Annabeth probably didn’t feel the same way, but perhaps seeing how relaxed he was made her calm down as well. Anyway, soon enough they were both splashing each other and laughing, with Annabeth shrieking at him to stop cheating with his powers.

By the time the sky was growing dark above their heads and the conch horn blared to declare it was dinnertime, Percy’s worries had been swept away from him. He felt light and happy and oblivious to the rest of the world around them. All he could think about was Annabeth as they made out underwater.

Okay, maybe a small part of him was anxious about his father somehow noticing them. But he tried telling himself the god would have enough sense to turn his attention somewhere else. It would be mortifying to learn Poseidon was keeping an eye on him right now.

“Annabeth?”

Their noses brushed as she said, “Yeah?”

He didn’t think that far ahead. Licking his lips, he tried to figure out how to say what was on his mind, but got momentarily distracted by her eyes darting down to follow the motion. He wasn’t sure who leaned in this time, but he was very aware of the fact that he was the one to pull away. He needed to say something. He had to because he figured it would drive him insane if he didn’t.

“Wait.” He tried to concentrate, but one of her fingers was pressed against a bit of exposed skin around his back, where his shirt was drifting in the water. “Wait. Annabeth—”

“What is it?”

He still wasn’t sure what to say. Ugh, to hell with this.

“I really like you,” he blurted out.

Annabeth blinked in surprise. Then her face melted back into a smile and she said, “I really like you, too.”

“No, but—I mean—” He wanted to drown himself so he would stop sounding like an idiot. “Earlier you said I could do whatever I wanted, but I don’t… I don’t want to. I just want to be with you.”

His face felt hot. It didn’t help that she started moving her finger over his back in a circle. She was probably the most distracting person he’d ever met, which was saying something with the number of loud, obnoxious kids he must have had in his previous schools. At least this time the distraction was pleasant.

At least she looked equally as flustered as he felt as she hesitantly said, “Are you… asking me out?”

“Are you going to shove me underwater if I say yes?”

She snorted. “That wouldn’t really do much.”

“It’s the thought that matters.”

“Right.” Her gaze darted between his eyes. “Summer’s nearly over, you know. We live in two different states. Not really the most promising conditions for a relationship.”

This wasn’t a no. It was doubt and skepticism and uncertainty, but it wasn’t a decisive, resounding no. His heart was pounding erratically in his chest, which he was certain she could feel with how close they were.

“We can call. And we’ll meet here again next year, won’t we?” he said. He wasn’t sure whether he sounded hopeful or desperate. Was there even a difference?

Her eyes crinkled. “We will, yeah. We can do that.”

“So… wait, you’re saying yes?”

She responded with a kiss, which Percy thought was a pretty awesome way of answering his question. And yes, okay, they missed dinner that day. But Percy was in his element with Annabeth Chase pressed close, and for once he didn’t care about food all that much.

✧ ✧ ✧

Summer, 2007

Saying good-bye at the end of summer camp turned out to be a pretty sad affair. Percy would never have expected to find himself actually feeling melancholic. He really had assumed summer camp would end up being a nightmare. Making friends had seemed impossible at the beginning, and spending all this time away from his mom had made him feel upset and discontented.

But here he was, standing on top of the hill overlooking the entire valley, with the camp on one side and his mom on the other. She was sitting in Gabe’s Camaro, waving at him through the open window. He waved back at her, his heart warming instantly at the sight of her, knowing he would be able to go back to interacting with her with actual words instead of pieces of paper he had difficulty reading.

The smile on his face dropped a little when he focused on the two other people he had with him on top of the hill. Grover, being a satyr, lived at the camp. He wasn’t really going anywhere. But Annabeth was all packed, a backpack hanging off her shoulders and a suitcase resting at her feet. One of her hands was gripping the strap of her backpack, while the other was clutched between Percy’s fingers.

Her parents were still not there. Technically, she could have waited down in the valley like the rest of the campers. But when she and Grover heard that Percy’s mom had arrived to take him, they decided to accompany him up the hill.

“So,” he said, swaying back and forth on his toes. “I guess I’ll see you guys next year, right?”

“No way,” said Grover. “New York City isn’t that far. I’ll just come visit you.”

Annabeth wrinkled her nose. “That’s not fair. My dad will never let me leave for New York by myself. And he never goes there for the sake of it. I have to wait months before I see you two again.”

“Aw, Annabeth,” Grover chuckled. “I’ll send you a postcard or something.”

“Oh.” Percy let go of her hand in favor of pulling out a pen from the bottom of his backpack. Uncapping it, he grabbed her arm and started scribbling down. “Here. That’s my address. And that’s our telephone number.”

She squinted at the writing once he was done and moved on to Grover. “Here’s to hoping I can decipher any of that.”

He ignored her.

“Gee, that is pretty hard to read,” Grover observed. “And I’m not even dyslexic.”

“You two are just mean,” decided Percy. He went to put his pen away, but Annabeth snatched it from him. “Hey!”

Sticking her tongue out, she bent down and started writing on his arm, as well. Percy tried not to squirm, but the point of the pen was sometimes too sharp and sometimes too tickling. He could hear Annabeth huffing irritably every time he accidentally made her mess up, but figured it wasn’t too bad. She was still smiling, after all. And she wasn’t snapping at him to quit moving.

Eventually, she leaned back, looking satisfied. “There. Call me.”

He looked down at the number she’d written. He had to admit it did, in fact, look more legible than his own chicken scratches. Not that he was going to tell her that.

“I will,” he promised.

For a moment nobody moved. Percy wished this moment could last forever. He didn’t want to leave, even if he did want to reach his mom and hug her for the first time in weeks already. It was kind of disappointing to know he wouldn’t be able to wake up to Grover’s snores every morning anymore. And he would have to wait almost an entire year before he could hold Annabeth’s hand again, or kiss her, or… do any of the other stuff they’d done this summer.

He wished this moment could last forever, but his mom was waiting. Besides, he knew that the longer they were keeping Smelly Gabe away from his precious Camaro, the more unbearable he would be once they finally got back home. And the last thing he wanted was to return home with his mom and instantly make her life harder.

So Grover clapped him on the shoulder and once again promised he would come visit during the school year. Annabeth kissed him—apparently a little too long for Grover’s taste.

“Guys,” he said. “Gross.”

“You can look away, goat boy,” she said, but she stepped back. “You’d better not forget to call, Seaweed Brain.”

He snorted and took a step down the hill. “As if. You’ll be sick of my voice in less than a month, Wise Girl.”

Again, their friend grumbled under his breath, kicking the ground with his hoof.

Percy chuckled, gave them both one final look, and then walked toward his mom.

✧ ✧ ✧

Fall, 2007

Annabeth’s leg was bouncing up and down on the bathroom tiles. She kept on glancing at the door, as if to make sure it was, in fact, locked. She must have gotten up to check about a dozen times in the last minute, yet she was still feeling ridiculously paranoid. She didn’t have a reason to be, she knew. Her dad and his wife weren’t even at the house right now. Only the twins were, and she’d occupied them with a Disney movie.

She was all by herself in the room, with nobody to bother her.

Her hands felt clammy as she dried them on her denim shorts. A strand of hair fell into her eyes and tickled her nose, so she brushed it back. It fell back down. She felt tears stinging in her eyes and willed them to stay put. She wasn’t about to cry. She still had no reason to cry. She was fine. She was perfectly fine. Except for the nausea, but she tried not to think about that.

On the counter next to the sink was an alarm clock. She’d put it there earlier, and now she found she didn’t have the courage to look in its direction. It must have been three minutes already, right? She started nibbling on her thumbnail, eyes once again darting toward the door.

Maybe she should have called Thalia. She’d wanted to call her, but at the last moment had changed her mind. Her friend wasn’t even in Virginia right now. She was with Luke, probably doing homework or studying for a test. University was time consuming. And while Annabeth knew without a doubt her friend would leave her studies to help her if she knew something was wrong, she found that she didn’t want to bother her for nothing. Not when there was still no guarantee something was even wrong in the first place. No need to drag her all the way over here from New York yet.

New York. New York, New York, New York. Annabeth rolled the name in her brain until it lost all meaning. She could feel the tears in her eyes welling up even more. She glanced down and stared at her forearm blurrily. The skin there was smooth and undisturbed now, but she could almost picture the address and number that had occupied the space only a few weeks ago.

She remembered coming back home and eagerly waiting for a phone call that never came. She remembered pushing her niggling doubt back in favor of trying to call the number she’d been given. Because there was no way he wouldn’t call her unless something was wrong. So she’d have to check herself. It made perfect sense. And he would answer, and they would talk, and he would tell her that he’d accidentally washed the number away without noticing and had no way of calling as promised.

But when she dialed the number she’d been given, a grumpy man’s voice answered and told her that she had the wrong number. She hadn’t been fazed at first. She figured it was the horrible stepfather Percy had mentioned in his stories. That he was just being a jerk and refusing to let her talk to his stepson. But the man told her that no, Percy Jackson did not live in this house. After her third day of calling, she figured he was telling her the truth.

With a heavy heart, she realized Percy must have given her a fake number. She doubted the address was his either. She knew some people did that. She knew there were people out there who handed out fake identities and fake information and fake everything. But her brain had trouble trying to reconcile this kind of person with the awkward and genuine boy she’d grown to know over the summer.

But he wasn’t calling. The number he’d given her was a bust. And when she still tried sending a letter to the address he’d scribbled down despite her doubt, she received no answer.

“Shit,” she muttered when a tear broke free. She wiped it from her cheek.

No more thinking about him. She had to constantly remind herself that she had to move on. He sprang into her mind far too often no matter how bitter she felt about the whole thing. Logic didn’t help like it usually did. She tried telling herself she only knew him for about ten weeks. It couldn’t be that hard to get over a guy she knew for a little over two months. But her heart ached and bled every time she remembered his lively laughter, or the way his eyes would crinkle merrily around her, or all of those stolen moments, when they’d sneak away from everyone else to be together, with no interruptions.

Matthew’s laughter from the floor below startled her. Annabeth cursed, sprang to her feet and once again made sure the door was locked. She heaved a sigh of relief when it refused to open. Good. She was good.

Turning around, her eyes fell on the alarm clock on the counter. Her breath caught for a moment, before she forced herself to exhale slowly. It was fine. It was all perfectly fine. It’s been almost five minutes so she needed to do something. But it was fine, and it would be fine. She just needed to muster her courage and be done with it.

Steeling her nerves, she approached the counter and looked down at the innocent stick resting beside the alarm clock. Her eyes locked on the little window displaying the result of the test. She moved her gaze to the instructions. Sniffing and rubbing her eyes to rid herself of the tears, she once again checked the result.

Her hand fell to her stomach as it turned once again.

“Shit,” she said again. The word echoed around her in the small space. “Shit, shit, shit.”

She cursed the day Percy Jackson had decided to sit across from her for a game of chess.

✧ ✧ ✧

Winter, 2007

“You’re kidding!”

“Dead serious.”

“Shut up.”

“Thalia, I don’t know what to do.”

Thalia cursed under her breath as she paced in front of Annabeth’s bed. She looked even more agitated than Annabeth herself felt. It was kind of amusing, seeing as this wasn’t even happening to her. She looked like she wasn’t sure whether to go punch Annabeth’s parents or go back to New York, look for Percy Jackson and punch him. Annabeth would have paid to see either option, honestly.

Instead, she watched as her friend expelled some of the energy that’s been building up in her body. Only one day ago Annabeth herself had been nervous and anxious herself. Now, though, she found herself finally relaxing. Her friend was here with her, and Thalia would always have her back. She knew that much. In this entire mess, if there was anyone she could lean on and trust, it was Thalia.

“Annabeth, your parents really are the worst,” the woman seethed, little sparks prickling across her skin.

Annabeth subconsciously moved a pillow to rest over her stomach for protection. She wasn’t really worried Thalia would attack her, but accidents could happen. The motion seemed to have caught her guest’s attention because the electricity subsided quickly as Thalia visibly tried to calm herself down.

It was hard to fault her for getting this worked up over everything. The fact that Annabeth found herself pregnant was already a mess she probably hadn’t expected to deal with in a million years. But somehow Annabeth’s parents managed to top it all off by giving her an ultimatum—either to get an abortion or leave their house. According to them, they wanted her to have a future, and a baby would mess with that. They were trying to help her.

She didn’t feel all that grateful.

“Okay, okay,” Thalia muttered. She sat on the edge of the bed and met Annabeth’s eyes. “Ignoring their threat for a minute, what do you want to do?”

Frankly, Annabeth wanted to pick up the phone and hear Percy’s voice on the other side of the line most of all. That was the first thought that sprang to her mind, and she wanted to groan at her own stupid lovestruck heart. She’d expected the anger over the entire situation to completely overwrite her feelings from the summer. But she just found herself with very confusing emotions regarding Percy.

Maybe because there were two versions of him living in her head—the sweet one from the summer, and the absent one she’s been dealing with since coming back home.

Dropping her gaze to her pillow-covered belly, Annabeth chewed the inside of her cheek. Her logical brain screeched at her that getting rid of the baby would be the wise thing to do. She was fifteen. She wasn’t cut out to be a parent, especially when the stupid father was out of her reach entirely. She needed to finish high school. She needed to go to university. She needed to achieve her dream of becoming an architect. This would all become near impossible with an added baby.

And it wasn’t like she was going to kill an already-existing human being. This was a fetus. It was still growing, developing, day by day. It would never know a thing. For the gods’ sake, it was still an it. She had no gender. She had no name. She had no face to add to this creature growing up inside her. Why should she care about it more than herself? She wanted her life. She wanted her dreams. This thing was just a distraction.

But every time she’d tried reading about abortion before now, an uneasy feeling stirred in her stomach and her heart pounded until she could hear nothing else. It was like her soul, her brain, her body were already mourning the loss. Every single cell in her body objected to the idea of cleansing herself of this parasite. She’d found herself sobbing over the idea at least twice, and it always felt grief-ridden.

“Hey,” Thalia said gently, resting a hand on Annabeth’s ankle. “Listen to me—you still have time to decide, right? And whatever choice you’re going to make, I’ll help, okay? I promise. I’ll hold your hand during whatever procedure takes place. I’ll buy you all the sushi you want if you get the abortion, and I’ll be the best crazy aunt in the world if you decide to keep it. And I’m sure Luke will be there, too. Just say the word.”

Annabeth snorted weakly. “Crazy?”

“You and I both know that’s the way the world is,” she said. Her face softened. “You’re thinking of keeping it, aren’t you?”

Gulping thickly, Annabeth kept on staring at the little bump already showing and muttered, “I’m supposed to want to get rid of it, shouldn’t I? It’ll mess up my entire life. And it’s not exactly like I want a reminder of Pe—of the father.”

She wasn’t sure whether calling him that was better or worse, honestly. Saying his name hurt. But calling him the father of this fetus when he didn’t even know it existed was absurd.

Thalia watched her attentively. “But…?”

“But…” Annabeth sighed and finally allowed herself to spread her fingers over the pillow separating her from her abdomen. “It’s irrational.”

“Not everything has to make sense, Annabeth.”

She knew that. Because it didn’t make sense that the kind, friendly and bashful guy was the same as the one who was now ghosting her in one way or another. And yes, it didn’t make sense for her to care so much about this stupid creature that was causing her so much grief—both mental and physical.

Waving her hand, Thalia said, “You don’t have to make your mind up right this second. Take your time.” She paused for a long stretch of time, then curiously asked, “So, about the guy responsible for all of this—”

“He’s no one,” she cut her off curtly.

“And I’m a pink elephant. Come on, there’s no way he’s no one.”

“I’m not going to tell you who he is, Thalia,” Annabeth warned her. “We’re not in touch, okay? We met in summer camp, and we’ll never see each other again. So drop it.”

The woman raised her hands in surrender. “Fine. Your call. Just curious.”

Annabeth hummed and forced herself not to think about him. The result, unfortunately, was that she ended up thinking about the baby. Her brain started coming up with name, picturing possible faces, making plans that might never be required.

Her brain screeched at her to stop. To take a moment to realize how insane it all sounded. But her heart already seemed to expand to the new addition to her life.

✧ ✧ ✧

Spring, 2008

True to their word, Annabeth father and his wife had kicked her out of the house the moment they heard she wanted to keep the baby. It had happened right after she learned that the baby was a girl. Hearing the gender of the baby made it all so much more real, and Annabeth’s internal objections became irrelevant all at once.

Luckily, they weren’t actually rude enough as to force her to leave in a moment’s notice. They let her pack. They let her figure stuff out. And so, by the time Annabeth had stepped out of their front door, Thalia and Luke were already waiting for her inside a rental car.

They had filled the drive from Virginia to New York with lighthearted chatter, telling her stories about NYU, their friends, their studies, their professors. Luke had asked her a few questions, similar to the ones asked before by Thalia. And the two of them had hopefully inquired about the father only to once again let the matter go at Annabeth’s reluctance to speak about it.

Their shared apartment wasn’t big. It was already cramped with their own items, which were strewn all over in disarray. There were two bedrooms, and while Annabeth was pretty sure they didn’t always sleep separately, she had officially been invited to share Thalia’s room. She figured it was basically the perfect excuse for Luke and Thalia to just share a room without having to explain themselves to anyone. Not that anyone would ask.

The apartment was on the seventh floor. And while normally Annabeth wouldn’t have had an issue with this little fact, this time she found herself cursing the dysfunctional elevator. The guests Thalia and Luke had from time to time, while nice, made Annabeth feel like she was being put on display because they never really bothered hiding their curiosity at the sight of her. And while there was a public high school in the area, Annabeth had elected to do her school work from the apartment from now. She didn’t like the idea of being gawked at by curious, nosey teenagers as well.

And maybe—just maybe—a part of her had dreaded entering the classroom and finding Percy Jackson attending it. After all, this was his home city. Supposedly.

More than once since arriving at the city, Annabeth had found herself making her way to the address she’d memorized from the end of summer. She would stare up at the apartment building, scan the windows and ponder actually going up to try and find Percy. Maybe a small part of her had held on to hope, wanting to believe this radio silence was nothing more than a misunderstanding of some kind, as unlikely as it was.

But either she’d get cold feet, or her anger would swell and she’d leave the place without even setting foot in the lobby of the building.

But none of it mattered now.

She was exhausted, her hair was tied up messily, and there were stains on her clothes that she couldn’t explain even if she tried. Her room was a mess, looking like a tornado had passed through it. Items were littering the floor, the bin was overflowing and her bed was left unmade because she had no energy left to try and organize it again, especially knowing she would most likely crawl right back in the second she got a reprieve.

Or, well, maybe the next reprieve.

Right now everything was silent—as silent as an NYC apartment could be, at least. Luke and Thalia were at the university. Birds outside Annabeth’s open window chirped merrily as they flew past. There was a spider in the corner of the room, near the ceiling. And while Annabeth did keep an eye on it for now, she found that she wasn’t overwhelmed with dread. Her focus was elsewhere.

Despite feeling absolutely drained, she stood on her feet instead of taking a seat or lying down. She had one hand braced against the railing of the crib Luke had managed to scavenge for her. The other one was inside, her forefinger clutched tightly between the surprisingly-strong fingers of the baby sleeping inside. Her back was aching a little from her hunched form, but she couldn’t care less.

She stared down at the baby girl, her chest warm. She took in the pale skin of the baby, the size of this little, tiny creature compared to the blanket, the crib, herself. Her chest was rising and falling quickly as she slept soundly. An hour ago the same calm lungs had allowed some high-volume wails to fill the apartment and deafen Annabeth. She was so happy they worked properly.

Brushing her thumb over the baby’s cheek, keeping her touch feather-light, Annabeth smiled. Her eyes kept on traveling up to the top of the baby’s head, where a turf of black, soft hair stood in contrast with the almost translucent skin it was growing from. She remembered seeing the dull, indistinct color of her baby’s eyes peeking at her and knowing with full certainty that they would eventually shift to a vibrant shade of sea-green.

A lump had formed in her throat the first time she’d tried to give the baby a shower. It had already been a stressful, scary situation as it was. It had become near impossible once she realized that the water just slid right off without actually wetting the wailing infant. Thalia had had to intervene because Annabeth had nearly had an anxiety attack right then and there.

But now, staring down at the sleeping baby, she couldn’t find it in her to detest the similarities between her and Percy. Because she was pretty sure she would forever remember the boy from camp fondly. Those memories were tainted by what happened afterward, but they still existed. And if she couldn’t have the guy she remembered, she would take this baby, and she would make sure she would never hurt anyone the way he did.

She stifled a snort at the absurd pity she felt. Here she was, her entire life flipped upside down in a terrifyingly wonderful way because of this precious thing that was holding her finger captive. And somewhere in this city—maybe—Percy was living his life, unaware of this tremendous change. She pitied him. She really did. He had no idea what he was missing out on.

The sound of the front door being unlocked reached her ears. Annabeth didn’t look away from her baby, though. She just listened to the soft click of the door closing again. There was a thud as a backpack must have been dropped on the floor. Then footsteps approached the door before Annabeth could feel a presence joining her. From the corner of her eye, she could see Thalia’s profile as the young woman smiled down at the sleeping infant.

“Hey,” she whispered.

Annabeth brushed the baby’s thumb again. “Hey. How was class?”

“Not as hectic compared to home, anymore. Who’d have guessed a baby would make all the peace evaporate, huh?” She sounded fond all the same. “So? Have you settled on a name yet, or are we still going to call her The Baby?”

The baby made a small sound. Annabeth’s heart skipped a beat as she held her breath, waiting to see if anything was wrong. But then she just kept on sleeping, as if nothing happened. Everything was fine. She wasn’t choking or anything. It was all good.

Speaking in an even lower volume, Annabeth said, “I keep on coming back to the same name. There are so many great names out there, and I keep returning to this one specific one.”

“Well? That’s good, right? It means you clearly seem to like it best.”

“It’s not that simple.” Annabeth bit her lip for a moment, then admitted, “It’s related to… to him.”

Thalia tore her gaze away from the baby in favor of looking at Annabeth. “The mysterious father?”

She nodded.

“What, are you considering naming her after him or something?”

“No, I… it’s just this thing he said once. It was barely anything, really. Just this random conversation we had.”

“But it’s still connected to him,” Thalia said. She tipped her head a little to the side. “I thought you hated the guy. Thought that was why you never tell us about him.”

Annabeth’s gaze trailed back over the baby’s features. She wasn’t sure whether she hated knowing this baby took after him or be thrilled. He was good-looking, after all. Didn’t that mean her baby would probably inherit this? That was a good thing. Even if Annabeth would have to be reminded of Percy every time she looked at her.

“It’s… more complicated than that,” she said. “I’m mad at him. Now. Because I think he lied to me and gave me a fake address and the wrong phone number. He was supposed to call me once he got back home but he never did. I’m… I’m furious with him for it.”

Thalia opened her mouth—no doubt to curse—before her eyes darted down to the sleeping baby. Her lips snapped shut again and she frowned.

“But gods, Thalia. If you had seen him before, you’d never have guessed it would end this way. He was always so nice and sweet. He was so friendly to everyone, and he was kind to everyone around, even if they didn’t deserve it. And there is no way I imagined it—there’s no way I deluded myself that much, okay? Every time he looked at me he seemed to light up. I couldn’t have made that up.”

“Annabeth,” her friend said, sounding conflicted on whether she should burst her bubble or not. “It can’t be both.”

“I know.” Annabeth smiled sadly at the baby. “But I’m sure it was real. At least some of it. I don’t think I can hate the guy I remember. He wouldn’t have hurt me like that.”

Thalia rested a hand on her shoulder. It went without saying that Percy had hurt her like that.

Setting her jaw, Annabeth said, “I want to remember that version of him. The good one. I know it didn’t end well on all accounts, but I got this little monster so I’m not going to regret it.”

“So you have a name.” It wasn’t a question. Thalia just looked expectant.

“Astraea,” said Annabeth, a sense of calm filling her at the decision. “After the Astraea constellation.”

Thalia’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought it was called Virgo.”

She stifled a bittersweet chuckle. “He was an idiot.”

“Oh, gods…”

✧ ✧ ✧

Spring, 2009

She was standing in front of the front door of the cursed apartment building again. East One-hundred-and-fourth and First. The address was supposed to live in. Annabeth would probably remember this address for the rest of her life. And once again, she was standing in front of the closed door—this time with company.

Technically, she was supposed to pick Astraea up from daycare and bring her back to the apartment, where Luke and Thalia were waiting to celebrate the baby’s first birthday. It was purely for their own sake, since Astraea could care less about it all. Sure, she would get presents from her mom, aunt and uncle, but the meaning behind it would be lost, and Annabeth would dig the toys from under the fridge in a couple of days.

But the daycare was just so close to Percy’s address, and so Annabeth found herself taking a little detour. She couldn’t even decide if it had been a conscious decision or not. Yet here she was. And here Astraea was, obliviously sucking on a star-shaped plushie while humming contentedly.

She should just go, she knew. She had no reason to still try and reach out. In fact, she had every reason not to do so. Lately she even managed to think a little less about Percy in her spare time. Maybe because she didn’t have much spare time left. Astraea reminded her of him, yes. Her eyes really did end up being the same lively shade of green she remembered Percy having. But it became a duller ache, something Annabeth could push past without too much trouble.

But it was her little baby’s first birthday, and she felt like giving it one last chance. Not for her, because she was pretty sure she would like to punch Percy in the face if she ever saw him again. But for Astraea. She could be as happy as a clam without a father, yes. Demigods grew up without their godly parents, and they were mostly okay. But if she could somehow get her baby girl to have both her parents involved in her life, Annabeth would feel a little more at ease.

She had to at least try. One last chance. After today, she would drop it forever.

And so, squaring her shoulders, Annabeth pushed pas the front door and summoned the elevator. It creaked open for her and she rolled the baby buggy inside before following suit. The small space stunk horribly—and that was coming from someone who got used to changing stinky diapers over the last year. She was more than relieved to get out once the door opened at the floor she needed.

Going down the hall, she looked at the apartment numbers, then stopped once she found the correct one. There was no name in sight—no first names, no last names. Nothing. Just the apartment number glaring back at her. At least the stunted ring of the bell made Astraea release a bubbly sort of laughter.

“I know, Raea,” said Annabeth fondly, but her voice was more agitated than usual. “Someone should really fix that.”

Her daughter stuffed the plushie back in her mouth.

A few seconds later, the door swung open and a baffled-looking woman blinked at Annabeth. The girl was about to ask her if she was Sally Jackson, but then she realized how stupid that would be. This woman had black hair and a purple streak running down the side. She’d caught a glimpse of the woman while saying good-bye to Percy at the end of camp. That woman had brown hair, much lighter than the one of this lady.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked.

“Um, sorry to disturb you,” said Annabeth. “I was just wondering if you know of anyone with the last name Jackson? Living in this building?”

The lady put a hand on her hip. “Don’t think so. No one I know, at least.”

“Oh.”

Yes, she would definitely punch Percy in the face if she ever ran into him.

Maybe feeling bad for her, the woman added, “But hey, I’m not the best person to ask. Just moved on a few months ago. But assuming you picked this apartment because this is where some Jacksons are supposed to be… sorry to break it to you, but the last guy who lived here was named… what was it? Ugliano, I think. Stupid name, if you ask me. Sorry, kid.”

Annabeth shook her head and mumbled a small, “Thank you.”

The woman nodded and closed the door. Astraea dropped her plushie and started whining until Annabeth absently picked it back up and handed it to her. The baby happily went back to trying to eat it with her tiny front teeth.

“He’s not here,” said Annabeth. She crouched in front of Astraea, who met her eyes but didn’t comprehend a thing. “I’m sorry. I tried. You can’t say I haven’t, right? But I can’t make a guy appear out of nowhere, Raea. I wish I could, because you deserve to have him in your life. But I can’t find someone who doesn’t want to be found. And you don’t need him, okay? You’ll always have me, and you’ll always have Aunt Thalia and Uncle Luke. That’s going to be enough, right?”

Astraea made the star plushie squeak accidentally, and she dropped it in surprise, then squealed in delight.

Picking it back up, Annabeth fondly shook her head at her daughter. She wiped a tear she hadn’t even noticed, wincing at her shattered hope. Because as unlikely as it had been, she really did hope to find Percy up here. She wasn’t sure which Percy—the one she remembered or the one who had abandoned her out of nowhere—but still Percy. And now she was needlessly disappointed.

“Okay,” she straightened up and plastered a bright smile to her face. “Let’s go home and eat some cake!”

Astraea babbled happily.

✧ ✧ ✧

Fall, 2009

“My alarm clock is pure evil,” whined Hana.

“Come on,” Annabeth said encouragingly. “The first day of school is, like, the easiest day of school. We never actually learn anything. It’s just pure chaos anyway.”

“I thought you loved learning.”

She shrugged. “I do. But you don’t. Come on, this day will be over before you know it.”

Hana buried her face in her hands and moaned in aggravation. It was a little over-the-top, but Annabeth got used to that by now. As did, apparently, the student body. No one in the front courtyard of the school even cast the two of them a look.

Honestly, she had no problem with school starting again. As much as learning was a burden to so many of her classmates, she herself kind of enjoyed it—as long as her dyslexia didn’t drive her insane. True, it meant she had even less spare time because of all the homework and tests, but it was something she was used to. Last year she’d feared going back to school, thinking it would overwhelm her completely. But it was actually a nice reprieve from the chaotic energy at the little apartment.

Thalia called her insane for thinking this way. Luke just patted her shoulder and wished her luck.

It helped that the kids at her new school in New York were okay. They knew she had a toddler—mostly because hiding something like that became extremely difficult after less than a month. Eventually, she just came out with it, and let the rumors spread. They freaked out at first, but eventually just let it go. Certain people were mean about it, yes, but for the most part nobody bothered her.

It also meant no one really asked her out, either. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She was pretty sure she would have said no to anyone anyway, because she wasn’t sure how to handle a relationship and raising Astraea. Besides, she’d been burnt once. She didn’t feel like opening up only to suffer through the same kind of pain once again.

This school wasn’t the best. If it had been her choice, she would have looked for one where she could focus more on architecture. But she could afford anything fancy or special. Her father sent her some money from time to time, maybe feeling bad for leaving her to fend for herself. She sent him photos of Astraea in return without any added text. But still, she spent most of it on baby stuff—not her education.

“How are you this energetic?” whined Hana. “My sister just had a baby and she’s been awake for the last week straight. She’s practically keeling over. You’re so… ready to learn.”

“We’re seniors!” Annabeth said cheerfully. “We’re nearly done with high school.”

Hana snorted against her palms. “Yeah, joy. Then we can move on to study in college.”

Annabeth tried not to think about that. She had to somehow find a job this year—in addition to maintaining good grades and taking care of a year-and-a-half year old toddler, she needed to earn money so she could actually go to college. The idea of not going mortified her almost as much as this entire year did. There was so much to do and so little time. Honestly, some of her energy drained out of her at the reminder of just how much she had to do.

Still, she patted her friend’s back comfortingly. She glanced at her watch to check the time. There were still about five more minutes until the bell rang.

“Think positive, Hana. Once this year is over, we will never have to eat the cafeteria food here ever again,” said Annabeth. “And nothing can be worse than the questionable meat they give us here, r—what in Hades!”

“Huh?” Hana raised her head and looked at her friend in surprise. “What happened?”

Speechless, Annabeth pointed at the curb in front of the school. Teenagers were rushing toward the open gate from both directions of the street, looking mildly relieved at not being late or at spotting their friends. But her own focus was trained solely on one figure in the crowd, who was walking leisurely with an adult man carrying a buggy by his side, and a bundled baby cradled in his arms.

He was taller than she remembered him being, his skin slightly more tanned. His face seemed to be slightly sharper, like a handsome marble statue. He was lithe and slender—not exactly any more muscular than he had been two summers ago. His hair was exactly as she remembered—windswept like he just came back from a walk on the beach, and the smile on his face, which was directed at the baby he was holding, was crooked and so genuine.

“Who am I looking at?” asked Hana.

Annabeth didn’t answer. She just got up and walked forward, her vision tunneled so that all she could see was Percy. And she was sure it was Percy. It had to be. He was older, but still very clearly the same guy she remembered from summer camp. And he was walking into her school.

As she got closer, she could hear the voices of him and the man he was walking with.

“—even finish breakfast!” Percy said.

“You ignored your alarm clock for half an hour, Perce. There’s not one you can blame but yourself,” the man said in amusement.

With a pout, the teen said, “Perfectly good blue pancakes—all going to waste because you guys wouldn’t let me sit down and eat for five minutes.”

“Five more minutes and you’d be late to school.”

“What else is new.”

“Come on, one last year,” the man encouraged. “You just need to try and survive in this school for one year, and you’re never going to have to set foot in another school for the rest of your life. Except for college, but that’s a different type of school.”

Percy’s eyebrows scrunched together. “That’s… not comforting, Paul. You’re really bad at this. Don’t you have to go to Goode before you’re late to the first day, too?”

“I’m the teacher. I can be late.”

“That’s so unfair.” The teen looked down at the baby and cooed, “Right, Estelle? Your dad is so mean. He just enjoys tormenting me. Don’t learn from him. You have to love me.”

The man—Paul—huffed and raised his hand. It hovered next to Percy’s head for a moment, like he wanted to ruffle his hair. But then he self-consciously brought it back down. If Percy noticed, he didn’t comment on it.

They passed through the gate, then stopped walking. Annabeth hovered unsurely, staring at Percy as he obliviously pressed a kiss to the baby’s head before putting her in the buggy. She thought she could hear the baby squealing a little, as if wanting to be picked back up. But Percy and Paul just bid each other farewell before the man waved and left. Percy stared after them for a moment longer, then turned around, his shoulders rising edgily.

She stared as his eyes roamed around the courtyard, taking everything in with an almost calculating look. He looked like he was trying to find safe hiding places in case something went wrong. Or like he was searching for the people who might cause him grief as a new student. His guarded expression shifted into a brooding frown when he noticed Hana staring at him curiously. Then he looked slightly to the side and—

Their eyes locked. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he took her in quickly. Emotions seemed to flash across his face in quick succession; too fast for her to decipher anything. But he was very clearly shocked to see her again. He was staring at her like he thought she might not be real, like she would turn to mist and disappear if he so much as blinked.

“Annabeth?” he said, stepping toward her cautiously.

Her brain was struggling. She was transported back in time. All of the warm, happy, precious moments they’d shared at the camp flashed before her eyes. The emotions from back then seemed to smack her in the face out of nowhere. She could have loved him. Maybe she did love him. She wasn’t sure. It all ended too quickly when he fell off the face of the earth—

And just like that, she remembered the misery that came from knowing him—the resentment and anger and disappointment that have been haunting her for two years now. And, well, she did promise herself she’d punch him in the face if she ever saw him again. So she did just that. He never saw it coming.

One moment he was staring at her in something akin to awe, and the next he cradled his cheek with one hand, looking stunned. Heads turned to stare at them. Some of the teens recognized Annabeth and looked even more surprised than Percy.

“Annabeth! What in the world?” Hana spluttered.

Grimacing, Percy muttered, “Okay, I deserved that.”

Anger flooded her all at once, overwhelming her senses and making her tremble in place. Someone in the crowd whistled. Another shushed them. Hana looked like she was too scared to approach Annabeth and try and calm her down. But Percy at least met her fury head on instead of shying away from it.

“That barely scratched the surface of what you deserve, Percy Jackson,” she seethed. “Gods, I could kill you!”

He lifted his free hand in surrender. “Look, I know I didn’t call, and I’m sorry. But—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“But you—”

“No, listen.” Her voice was colder than it had ever been. For the first time since meeting her, Percy actually looked like he was afraid of her. “You don’t even know how much of a mess you left me to deal with.”

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “What are you—”

She glared at him. “Listen.”

The courtyard was as silent as a grave. No one said anything. No one seemed to dare breathe the wrong way. She imagined at least some of them made the connection between her daughter and this boy she was so mad at. But while Percy had no idea Astraea existed, he still fell silent and let her speak. His eyes were blown wide open, their color reminding her so strongly of her toddler that she nearly averted her gaze, but she held firm.

“I don’t need some flimsy excuse or an explanation. And I don’t want any sort of apology from you. I looked for you and you weren’t there. You can’t make up for that, and no excuse will be good enough to make it okay. All I want from you, is space. Don’t talk to me and don’t come near me. I want nothing to do with you.”

Everyone in the courtyard seemed to hold their breaths.

He stared back at her. His hand had dropped from his cheek while she was talking and now, she noticed, it was clenched to a fist by his side. She wasn’t sure how to decipher the expression on his face, but she was sure she could detect some hurt in there. She didn’t care. Or maybe she did, but she couldn’t afford to take back her words or be gentler.

Finally, Percy took a step back. His face and voice were utterly blank as he said, “Fine.” And then he walked past her into the school building, the crowd of students clearing him a path like he was infectious.

Hana stepped closer to Annabeth and timidly said, “Was that… Astraea…?”

Annabeth pursed her lips and glared at the space Percy had occupied. Her eyes were stinging and her heart felt heavy as all the anger left her all at once. She wanted to sob. She wanted to turn around and chase after him, beg him to forget everything she’d just said. She wanted him to meet Astraea, to be in her life.

But he hadn’t been there before. Why start now? The last thing she needed was for her baby girl to get attached to someone who would then get up and leave without a second thought.

“He’s no one,” said Annabeth. “Come on, let’s go to class.”

Her friend didn’t argue.

✧ ✧ ✧

Winter, 2010

For the most part, Percy really did stay away. Actually, at the very beginning he literally went out of his way to be as far away from her as possible. If they had a shared class, he would sit in the seat furthest away from her. If they walked down the same hall, he would either go as close to the wall as possible, or he would turn on his heel and look for a different route to take. If they had to eat lunch, then he would grab his food and go eat outside instead of sharing the cafeteria with her.

She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or like a diseased pariah.

And then things changed. She overheard him talking to a few of their classmates. They pestered him, trying to understand how he knew her. Percy had refused to answer, trying to shake them off as politely as possible. But eventually he’d snapped and asked why they cared about it so much. And, of course, they told him about the toddler and how no one knew who the father was.

Suddenly, instead of turning away and leaving her alone, Percy made beelines for her. He tried to talk to her, to ask her about it. She usually managed to avoid him or brush him off. Sometimes her friends would shoo him away, and while he was clearly unhappy about it, he left. She had a feeling it had to do with the lack of privacy more than anything else, though. But he kept on coming, and she kept on dodging.

Until she got sick of it after one of their shared literature classes. She’d waited until everyone else had left the room before rounding on Percy. The boy, while determined to hear her out, had pulled a face at the upset scowl she directed toward him.

“She’s not yours,” she’d snapped at him.

“She’s not?” He’d looked momentarily lost, then hurt.

“Not in any way that matters.” Annabeth had not expanded on it to take the hurt out of his eyes. She’d just wanted him to know, okay? “A parent is supposed to actually be there, Percy. You missed everything. You missed the birth, her first laugh, her first tooth, her first step, her first birthday. You weren’t there when she got sick or when she had the hiccups or when she fell down and screamed bloody murder. So no, she’s not yours.”

He’d shaken his head at her. “That’s not fair. It’s not… it wasn’t my fault.”

“Whatever, Percy.” She had shouldered her backpack and walked toward the door.

“No. But—Annabeth, you have to let me explain!”

She hadn’t bother answering—she just left.

After that, he no longer avoided her completely, but he seemed to go back to respecting her need for space. So his eyes would linger on her almost every single time he saw her, but he wouldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t ask her any further questions. He would just look away and focus on his own thing.

Thalia and Luke noticed something was up with her, but Annabeth didn’t explain the situation to them. She didn’t feel like telling anyone without leaving room for doubt that Percy was Astraea’s father. The ones who guessed never received any sort of confirmation. The ones who were still clueless just kept on wondering what the deal was.

But the longer this went on, the more fatigued Annabeth got. She felt tense and on edge at school, knowing Percy was constantly around and never knowing what to expect from him. And she felt conflicted every time she spent time with Astraea and was once again reminded of just how similar to her father she was.

What if she was depriving her daughter of a good opportunity by keeping Percy away from her? What if she was making a mistake? What if Astraea grew up and resented her for making this particular decision? Who was she to keep her baby girl from someone who was just as responsible for her creation as Annabeth was?

Sitting on a bench in the school courtyard, Annabeth pondered all of this. Her last class was cancelled, but she needed to wait before she could pick Astraea from daycare. The school was closer to it than the apartment, so she decided to do her homework while waiting. At least it was a nice day, slightly cloudy, with the sun peeking out and keeping her warm enough despite the cool wind that breezed past.

Annabeth tilted her head up and stared at the clouds. She tried to imagine what shapes they reminded her of, but all her brain kept coming back to was that she wished she could see the stars. She wanted to see the constellations. Gods, she wanted to see Virgo, point it out to her toddler and explain why she was named Astraea. She was too young to understand right now, but the urge was still there.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Attention pulled away from the sky, Annabeth turned to blink at the woman standing in front of her. She was holding a baby in her arms—younger than Astraea—who was squealing brightly, waving its arms around joyously. The pink bow in her salt and pepper hair made it obvious she was a girl.

“Erm… sure,” said Annabeth. She scooted a little to the side and awkwardly bounced her leg. “How old is she?”

The woman smiled warmly. There was something so familiar about it. “Seven months.”

“She’s adorable.”

“Don’t let it fool you. She can be a little gremlin if she wants to be.” The woman sat the baby down on her thighs. “Right, Estelle? You can be almost as chaotic as your brother, can’t you?”

The name echoed in Annabeth’s brain. She looked between the woman and the baby. Her gaze drifted past them and over to the school building. And suddenly she knew why the woman’s smile looked so familiar. Because it looked almost exactly like the slightly more crooked smile that had once been aimed at her for an entire summer.

“You’re…” She swallowed uneasily. “You’re Percy’s mom, right? Mrs. Jackson?”

“Sally is fine. And you must be Annabeth Chase,” said Mrs. Jackson. At Annabeth’s baffled expression, she chuckled and said, “Trust me, if you had to listen to all of his stories about you like I did, you’d have been able to recognize a stranger with relative ease, too.”

Her face grew hot and she ducked her head. The idea of Percy talking about her to his mother was almost alien to her. Yes, she’d imagined he would do something like that at the end of that summer. Before everything went to Hades. But after the radio silence between them, Annabeth had assumed he probably hadn’t brought her up. Why would he? He didn’t seem to care about her as much as she’d thought.

“Did Percy send you here to corner me or something?” she asked disdainfully.

Mrs. Jackson looked at her sadly. “No. I told him I’d come pick him up after school today. We wanted to spend some time together before he was swarmed with too much school work. And this little one,” she added, looking down at Estelle, “heard Percy’s name and decided to come along.”

The baby started making excitable noises the moment she heard Percy’s name. Mrs. Jackson looked at her fondly. Annabeth couldn’t help but smile a little.

“I wasn’t planning on meeting you here, dear,” said the woman after a long moment. “But I won’t lie—I would really like to tell you what happened. Because Percy gave up on trying, but I hate seeing how sad my boy looks. And while I can see where you’re coming from, this really was out of his control.”

“I don’t—”

“If not for him, then for me.” Mrs. Jackson looked her in the eye, and suddenly Annabeth realized there was a suspicious wet sheen there. “I just heard I have a grandchild and I’m not allowed to see her. And I won’t force you to, I promise you that. But just… can you withhold judgment until you hear the full story?”

Annabeth had never even thought about that. She’s been so upset with Percy, she had never even entertained the idea that his mother might long to see Astraea, too. This woman had never done anything to her. From Percy’s stories, she sounded like a good person—the best person. And while she wasn’t sure she fully trusted Percy’s opinion on anything, it was true that she was kind of being unfair to Mrs. Jackson. The grandmother of Astraea. The least she could do was hear her out.

Taking a breath, Annabeth said, “Okay.”

The woman looked so relieved, it was almost heartbreaking.

“Thank you, Annabeth.” Mrs. Jackson bounced Estelle up and down and started talking. “It happened right as we got back home. My husband at the time—his name was Gabriel—was home, playing some card game with his friends. I suppose he was in a bad mood. I remember sending Percy ahead of me because I dropped my keys. I was right down the hall, but I guess I wasn’t in Gabe’s line of sight. I don’t think he would have done anything had he known I was right there.”

Annabeth drew her eyebrows together. “Percy mentioned him before. He wasn’t all too fond of the guy.”

“No, he wasn’t. It was mutual. I just didn’t know how bad it was,” the woman said. She bit her lip and brushed her fingers through her daughter’s hair. “Gabe must have lost a lot of money, or maybe he was just not all too happy to have Percy back home with us. I didn’t wait around to ask. They… they said some things to each other. I was too far away to hear what. And the next moment, Gabe was beating my baby right in front of me.”

“Wait, he—” Annabeth’s brain screeched to a halt. “He hit Percy?”

Mrs. Jackson sent the school building a look, as if she wanted to march right in there, find her son and make sure he was okay. Annabeth couldn’t even blame her. She tried to imagine finding someone hurting her own daughter and shuddered. If anyone ever ended up doing such a thing to Astraea, she was certain they would regret it right away. She would make sure of that.

“I should have known, really,” muttered Mrs. Jackson, mostly to herself. “Of course he wouldn’t spare Percy if he was already doing it to—anyway.” She pointedly ignored Annabeth’s horrified expression and said, “He stopped when he saw me—long enough for me to manage to drag Percy out of there. We left without looking back. But I had to take Percy to the hospital. They said he had a mild concussion, and a broken bone in his arm. They had to set it and put a cast on. Once his mind cleared a little, he wasn’t too thrilled about it, to put it mildly.”

“Well, I should think,” mumbled Annabeth. “I wouldn’t be thrilled if someone put me in the hospital either.”

“Oh, honey, he didn’t care about that. I remember it as clear as day. He looked down at his cast, and then started begging the doctors to take it off. He was so frantic, no one could calm him down. It took me a while to realize he was just desperate to get the number under the cast. He’d shown it to me before. Said he memorized it by accident. But the concussion made him forget, and by the time the cast was taken off, the number was completely gone.”

Annabeth craned her neck back and stared at the clouds again. Her mind felt foggy. The tips of her fingers were tingling and the rest of her body felt numb. There was a strange ringing in her ears and a blurry mist in her eyes that her brain sluggishly computed as gathering tears. When her lips finally managed to part a little, all that came out was a trembling exhale that sucked all of the air out of her lungs, leaving her chest feeling hollow.

She wasn’t sure how to process this. For two years now she’s been trying to reconcile two versions of Percy that she had in her head. It’s been so tough, knowing he’d let her down tremendously while still clinging to the good parts she remembered. Because every pleasant memory made her question her sanity, her judgement. Thalia had been right, after all. Percy couldn’t have been the goofy, awkward kid she remembered from summer camp and the jerk who’d left her with no real way of tracking him down intentionally.

After Astraea was born, she kind of forced herself to just try and put it behind her. She wanted to just stop thinking about it. Which was made insanely difficult the moment Percy started attending her school. Her doubts returned full force, which was probably a part of the reason she didn’t want to even give Percy the chance to explain himself. Because what if she heard his excuse and fell for a lie? Or it ended up actually being as flimsy as she’d imagined? What if it cemented the bad version of Percy in her head?

But now she was running Mrs. Jackson’s words through her head, and her chest squeezed painfully at the realization that she should have given Percy the chance to speak. Yes, she had every right not to hear him out. The logical part of her brain insisted that with the evidence she’d collected, this choice made perfect sense. She didn’t need to feel guilty about it in the least.

And yet.

Learning that it really hadn’t been Percy’s fault—that he’d ended up in the hospital because of his stepfather, and that it had stomped on all their plans—made Annabeth feel like crap. Because it meant that instead of two versions of Percy, there had always been only one version, the one she remembered from camp. And while she’d been cursing him up and down in her head, he was just helpless, unable to reach out to her even if he wanted to.

And no, no, it wasn’t on the same level as the pregnancy. It wasn’t as life-altering in the least. But she couldn’t hold any of this against him anymore. She searched deep inside for the anger she’d been nurturing within her for so long. It was still there, but when she mulled over it, she found that it was no longer directed at Percy. It was directed at his stupid stepfather, at the poor circumstances that had caused both of them so much grief. It felt like the entire universe had decided to conspire against them.

The bell started ringing. Soon the doors of the school would burst open and students would pour out. Annabeth sent the building an unseeing look. Her hands were clenched in her lap, trembling despite her best efforts.

“What happened to him? Gabe?” she managed to ask hoarsely.

“He’s in jail now,” said Mrs. Jackson, and she sounded triumphant and relieved. “He won’t stay there forever, but at least for now he’s gone from our lives.”

Annabeth nodded slowly. Her lips just barely managed to tug up when Estelle squealed joyously and reached out her hands to her, as if she wanted to be picked up. Instead of taking her, she hesitantly let the girl grab her fingers. Her eyes shot up toward Mrs. Jackson, to make sure it was okay, but the woman didn’t seem to mind. She just looked on fondly as Estelle moved Annabeth’s fingers about with all the curiosity her little body could contain.

After another moment, the woman gently said, “This wasn’t what you were expecting at all, was it?”

Biting her lip, Annabeth paused before saying, “I wasn’t really sure what to think. When summer was over and I couldn’t reach Percy, it just felt like I was dealing with a completely different person all of a sudden. It didn’t fit with the image I had in my head. I was going mad, trying to figure out what I was missing. I was so… I was so mad at him, but I still missed him. I couldn’t wrap my head around any of it.”

She kept on watching Estelle, smiling encouragingly at the baby despite the stinging in her eyes. The growing chatter from the school let her know students were trickling out, finally released from their lessons. When she felt a steady weight on her shoulder, she froze for a moment before her brain managed to identify it as Mrs. Jackson’s hand.

“I imagine there are a lot of things that made the last couple of years difficult for you, dear,” she said kindly. “I wasn’t in high school when I had Percy, but I was only nineteen, and I remember how frightening it was. I was so overwhelmed and had my hands completely full. So just know—no matter how you feel about Percy—you can always turn to me for help, Annabeth.
For anything.”

Annabeth raised her gaze away from Estelle and looked at Percy’s mom. The color of her eyes was blue, very different to the one Percy and Astraea shared. It was probably a trait passed down from Poseidon. Like the rest of their features, really, because Percy and this woman shared close to nothing. But their smiles were the same, and the warmth radiating off Mrs. Jackson reminded her of the cozy feeling she sometimes felt while thinking back on that summer of 2007.

“I—” Her throat felt tight, but she managed to force out a few choked-up words. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Estelle gurgled and smacked Annabeth’s hands together, her wide eyes locked on her mother. And then her gaze seemed to trail further away from the woman and her face practically lit up. She let go of Annabeth’s hands in order to reach forward desperately while babbling incoherently.

“Hey, Mom,” called a familiar voice. “Ready to—oh.”

Both women followed Estelle’s line of sight and found Percy approaching the bench. His steps faltered a little at the sight of Annabeth sitting there. His gaze flitted between her and his mother repeatedly, like he was trying to make sense of their close proximity.

Annabeth wiped her eyes discreetly to make sure they were completely dry. She inched a little away from Mrs. Jackson, suddenly feeling almost like an intruder. She had no reason to feel this way, she knew. The woman had chosen to sit beside her, after all. But the words of their conversation kept on swirling around her head as she stared at Percy, her eyes darting down to the arm he’d broken almost against her will.

She grimaced and turned to stare at her hands.

“Hi, sweetie,” Mrs. Jackson said. “I hope you don’t mind—Estelle heard we had plans and decided to join us.”

“Hmm? Oh, no. That—that’s fine.” He sounded distracted, but when Estelle made another needy sound, he finally picked her up and said, “Aw, I missed you too! You are so much more interesting than my lit teacher.”

“Don’t let Paul hear you,” his mom warned lightly. Her hand squeezed Annabeth’s shoulder. “Anything you need, you can always reach out, okay, dear?”

Annabeth nodded mutely without looking up. She felt the loss of Mrs. Jackson’s grounding touch the second the woman let go and got up. Her mind was swarmed with too many thoughts, too many emotions to try and decipher. She could hear Percy and his mom talking right next to her, but their words came in one ear and out the other.

And then she realized she could see their feet beginning to move away. They started walking down the street, away from her and the school. Her eyes widened and a jolt ran down her spine. She sprang to her feet before she could even comprehend her own actions.

“Percy!” she called.

He turned to her, brows arched up and eyes watching her warily.

Estelle patted his cheek but he didn’t react. A step further than her son, Sally Jackson caught Annabeth’s eyes and smiled encouragingly at her.

Gripping the straps of her backpack tightly, she said, “Are you doing anything tomorrow after school?”

“Am I…” His voice trailed off, but she could see his lips repeating her words, as if he was having trouble computing them. Then he shook his head hurriedly and blurted out, “No. No, nothing. I—um—why?”

“I was wondering if you’d maybe like to come over.” She stared at Estelle’s hand as the baby kept on trying to regain her brother’s attention. “To… to, like, talk and stuff.”

He was silent. He was silent for so long that Annabeth started panicking. She tore her eyes away from Estelle and finally met his gaze. The familiar shade of green made her stomach twist guiltily but she pushed past it. Now that she was finally looking at him properly, Annabeth could see the utter shock and bemusement written so clearly all over his face. The way his eyes stared at her intensely let her know he was so quiet because he was observing her, appraising her body language.

A part of her wondered if he was apprehensive, worried she would yell at him some more if she got him alone. She tried not to dwell on that thought.

Eventually, the corner of his mouth tilted up hesitantly and he said, “Sure.”

“Cool. I’ll… see you tomorrow then. Bye, Mrs. Jackson.”

She walked out of there before either one could say anything back. She needed to pick Astraea up, anyway. There would be plenty of time to freak out some more later in the day.

✧ ✧ ✧

Winter, 2010

The next school day felt remarkably awkward. Annabeth thought that trying to avoid Percy was already distracting enough, since it forced her to be very aware of where he was every time he got to the same areas she occupied. But, as it turned out, trying to ignore his lingering glances as they both waited for the final bell to ring was much worse.

She half expected Percy to just approach her during the school day and ask her what the hell was going on. She wasn’t even sure if he knew about her conversation with his mother or not. But while he did pause for a moment upon entering their homeroom and seeing her in her seat as usual, he didn’t come anywhere near her. Like he was still trying to give her space and respect her boundaries. Or he was afraid of doing or saying something wrong that might make her retract her invitation.

At least they didn’t share too many lessons that day. She was pretty sure she would have been different if she kept on feeling his eyes boring into the back of her head from his place at the back of the class. And the looks they garnered from some of their classmates weren’t helping in the least. Maybe they could see the change. Or they could feel the shift or the different tension they exuded. Whatever it was, their nosy classmates were obviously interested; especially the ones who heavily suspected Percy was Astraea’s father.

Hana poked and probed, trying to get a reaction from Annabeth. She, unfortunately, did share a lot of classes with her that day. The two of them were reprimanded by three different teachers for disturbing the lessons, and while Annabeth instantly apologized, Hana didn’t seem to care. She just kept on asking Annabeth what was going on and what had happened between Percy and her.

Before her last period, Annabeth’s heart fluttered as she read the text Thalia sent her, informing her that she’d picked Astraea up and that they were back at the apartment. It was a customary text, really. There was nothing special about it. But this time it only served to remind Annabeth of just how important this day was. The gravity of her choice nearly floored her, but she tried to swallow her concerns.

A lot of things could go catastrophically wrong. She could say the wrong thing, or Percy could mess up spectacularly. The fact that Thalia would be in the apartment as well was both comforting and concerning. On the one hand, Annabeth knew she would be able to rely on her in case things went south. On the other, she got the feeling her friend would either scream at Percy or inflict the worst pain imaginable upon him if she learned who he was exactly.

Maybe she should have given her and Luke a bit of a warning. Really, they had been home the previous day, and they had clearly noticed Annabeth’s agitation. It would have been easy to come out and tell them they would have company the next day. But Annabeth couldn’t bring herself to say it. She was going to drop a bombshell on just about everyone she cared about.

Well, except for Astraea. Her toddler didn’t understand—it was obvious—but Annabeth had still told her everything quietly while playing on the floor of her bedroom. She’d told her about her chat with Mrs. Jackson, and about Percy’s anticipated visit to their home. Her daughter had comprehended none of it, clearly. But Annabeth did try to prepare her for this. No one could claim she hadn’t.

She wasn’t sure how she managed to miss every single word their teacher said during the lesson. All she knew was that one moment she walked numbly into the classroom, and the next, she could hear the last bell releasing all of them for the rest of the day.

She didn’t move. She wasn’t sure she could move.

The classroom was empty apart from her by the time she heard approaching footsteps. Her eyes snapped up and she wasn’t surprised to see Percy weaving his way between the desks before stopping in front of hers. He looked about as nervous as she felt, but he still managed a sad little smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he said.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. When nothing came out, she just clasped her lips together and wrung her fingers in her lap.

“My mom told me what she told you,” he said after a while. “I swear, I didn’t send her there to talk to you.”

“I know.” She shifted in her seat but still didn’t get up. “You were right, by the way. She was really nice.”

His smile became marginally less strained. Some of the tension in his shoulders bled out when Annabeth met his eyes and offered her a small smile of her own. She still felt jittery, though. Her muscles all felt stiff and restless, but also too much like jelly to actually carry her. She tried stretching her legs and accidentally knocked them against Percy’s ankles.

He snorted. “What is it with you and kicking me?”

“You’re just kickable, I guess.”

“Great.” He shifted his weight between his legs. His voice sounded more solemn as he added, “I don’t have to come today if you’re not ready, you know. Or if you’re still upset with me. You don’t have to—I mean, my mom didn’t mean to pressure you into doing this.”

Annabeth shook her head. “I’m not upset with you, Percy.”

“You’re… not?”

She chuckled mirthlessly. “Are you seriously asking me if I’m still mad at you for breaking your arm and getting a concussion? No, of course not, Seaweed Brain.” His eyes gleamed at the familiar nickname. “I’m furious with the piece of scum who did this to you, and with our horrible luck, and with myself for ever actually believing you could have done something this malicious despite knowing better—”

“Whoa, hey.” He twisted the chair of a different desk around and sat down, facing her. “I’ve done plenty of the first two, trust me. But… you didn’t know better, Annabeth. We knew each other for… what? A little over two months? That’s nothing. It must have looked really bad from your end of things—anyone would have thought badly of me. I know I would’ve.”

“I should have at least heard you out.”

He spread his hands on the table and stared at them. “I don’t know.”

Silence descended upon them.

Annabeth wasn’t sure whether she was uncomfortable or not. A part of her felt slightly calmer. She was surprised at how deeply soothing it was to simply talk to Percy without trying to keep up the walls she’d constructed over the last couple of years. This felt stilted and awkward and slightly uncomfortable, but so familiar, she ached.

“I kept on trying to defend you,” she said after a while. When he looked back up at her, stunned, she knew it was the right thing to say. “I looked for you. I used the phone number you gave me, and I sent letters, but you had already left that apartment. And then I moved here and I kept on going back to the address you gave me. I went there last year with—” Her breath caught. “You weren’t there. I just sort of gave up, I guess.”

Percy stared at her in a mixture of devastation and regret. He leaned back, looking somewhat defeated. For the first time, Annabeth noticed the dark circles under his eyes. And while she could attribute that to the fact that he, too, lived with a little baby who most likely woke up every night, she imagined there was more to it than that.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He looked at her sharply. “For what?”

“I think… I know I was mad at you, but letting you learn the truth from other people was wrong. I should have been the one to tell you about her. I don’t even know how you took the news. I never really thought about how it would affect you.”

“I won’t lie, I’m kind of glad you didn’t see me freak out,” he said with false levity. “It was, like, a complete meltdown. You didn’t miss anything.”

With a tentative smile, she knocked her foot against his and said, “I can picture that.”

“Please don’t.”

“Did you make nearby water pipes explode again?”

“Shut up. That happened one time.”

She chuckled. Her body relaxed further when he joined her.

Almost experimentally, she stretched her arms out and let her fingers brush against his. Percy’s laughter died down. She didn’t look at him when she felt his gaze on her, instead watching their hands attentively. Her body stilled when he slowly wrapped his fingers around her hands. First loosely, as if he expected her to try and snatch her hands away. But when she didn’t move, his hold became firmer.

This time when Annabeth chuckled, it came out wetter. “I really missed you.”

“Gods, yeah. I missed you, too.” He smiled bashfully and added, “It was kind of pathetic, actually. When Grover came to visit, all we ended up doing was pour over this really old phone book, looking for different Chases. There were some really weird people who answered, by the way.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Are you—are you serious?”

“Dead serious. I was hoping to see you at camp last year, but you never showed up.” His eyebrows drew closer together. “Well, now I know why.”

They both glanced at her phone when it pinged. Annabeth pulled back one of her hands and picked it up, finding a text from Thalia. She wanted to inform her that, once again, Astraea was refusing to take a bath. It was nothing, really, but it reminded Annabeth why exactly she’d been so stressed earlier.

Putting her phone back down, she bit her lip and started bouncing her leg under the table.

“What?” Percy asked, suddenly alert. “Did something happen?”

“No, just… this day could go wrong in so many ways,” she admitted. “I’m terrified.”

He carded his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. That’s… yeah. Me too.”

She squeezed his hand and said, “Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t—you don’t have to do this.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bracing herself, she said, “I’m giving you an out. It was my choice to keep the baby, so I think you deserve to make your own choice. You can back out right now. I won’t hold a grudge and I won’t blame you for it. She still hasn’t met you—it won’t affect her in any way. But if you meet her… it means you’re all in, Percy. No disappearing or slacking off or regretting it. It’s all or nothing.”

He stared at her blankly. There was no contemplation in his eyes—he was just… processing, she thought. Like his brain was taking its sweet time, trying to make sense of what she’d just told him. She wished she knew what it meant or what to expect from him. She’d heard what a lot of the guys in her class were saying behind her back. There was no doubt in her mind that they would have taken her up on her offer and vanished from Astraea’s life without much hesitation.

With a stab of dread, Annabeth thought: Would Percy do the same? She would let him go—she wasn’t lying about that. Maybe she would even be amicable toward him. But the disappointment would linger, without a doubt. All of the lost opportunities would haunt her. Maybe offering such a deal wasn’t the wisest course of action, but she preferred to have him leave now than later on. She didn’t want him to do this out of obligation.

Finally, he let go of her second hand and said, “Right.”

Her heart dropped. She withdrew her hands as if burnt. When she felt a lump forming in her throat and the familiar stinging in her eyes, Annabeth forced herself to breathe and calm back down. A small voice in the back of her head wondered why Percy was rummaging through his backpack instead of getting up to leave.

“Right. So I actually got this thing yesterday with my mom,” he said flippantly. “I don’t know if it was meant to be a present or, like, bribery. I just thought it was cute, and Estelle definitely agreed because she tried to hog it all to herself. I had to pry it out of her hands this morning.”

Annabeth blinked dumbfoundedly as he dug something out and placed it on the desk between them. It was a plushie. A blue-and-white stuffed dolphin. Its beady black eye seemed to stare right at her. She picked it up cautiously and turned it over in her hands. It was soft to the touch, naturally. And it reminded her of all of Astraea’s other plushies. Except that it was completely different.

When she looked back up at him, his face was completely serious, all of the mirth from earlier gone. And she recognized some of the emotions displayed there: Fear, anger, grief, anxiety.

“Look, I know I said I freaked out after I found out you had a kid,” he said, fidgeting with his hands. “And I did. I mean, who wouldn’t. And I figured it—she was mine, but you were the only person I could ask, and you didn’t want to talk to me. I was just frazzled and confused and I wasn’t sure how to feel about this. Until you told me she wasn’t mine.”

She shook her head immediately. “She is. I didn’t mean it like that—”

“I know.” He smiled, but there was so much pain in his eyes that it felt wrong. “Maybe I should have just been relieved, but… I wasn’t. It wasn’t even close to what I was feeling. It only made this whole thing real. Until that point I just thought the only person I ended up hurting was you, but then it hit me that there was this whole other person out there who was let down by me as well, and I had no idea. And gods, it hurt to think about. So much. Because, like, here I was, doting over my baby sister like there’s no tomorrow. And in the meantime, there was another baby I was supposed to be around for, and I didn’t even know she existed.”

His eyes were shimmering when he locked them with hers. “And the worst thing about all of this was that just when I realized that, I realized something else too. That you weren’t going to let me see her or get anywhere near her if you could help it. And there was nothing I could do or say to change that.”

It took Annabeth a moment to realize she was strangling the dolphin plushie. She had to pry her fingers apart so she wouldn’t end up ruining it before it ever made it to Astraea.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He gently took her hands in his again and shook his head. “Don’t be. You were trying to protect her, right? Just… I really want to meet her. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

She finally pushed herself to her feet. Her knees held her weight without buckling. She pulled him up as well, letting go of his hand just long enough to pick up her phone and return the dolphin plushie to him so he could stuff it in his bag again.

“Then come, let’s go,” she said. “And by the way, I don’t think she’s old enough to understand the concept of bribery. But maybe it will prevent Thalia from killing you.”

He readily put the dolphin again, shouldered his backpack and followed her toward the door of the classroom.

“Okay, okay, cool. One question,” he said. “Who’s Thalia and why is she going to kill me?”

Annabeth tugged on his hand a little harder.

✧ ✧ ✧

Winter, 2010

They talked about random stuff on the way to the apartment. Annabeth did most of the talking, really. Percy was visibly growing more and more anxious the closer they got to their destination, and he seemed to be eager to hear every single story Annabeth was willing to share about Astraea. So she did just that and filled the silence between them, basking in the sound of Percy’s laughter every time she relayed a funny anecdote.

Her own nerves somehow soothed the more worried Percy became. Maybe because it was so obvious he wanted this to go well and that he was afraid of making a bad first impression. His investment in this entire situation was calming. Yes, he was a ball of fraying nerves, but it was so abundantly clear that he didn’t want to mess up, that he cared. It allowed her to breathe more easily.

And then they were at the bottom of the apartment building. They were climbing up the stairs to the seventh floor (with Percy furiously cursing the dysfunctional elevator every three steps). They were walking down the hall toward the door of the apartment, which had one of Astraea’s latest drawings taped to it, showing three blobs that she’d claimed were Annabeth, Luke and her (Thalia had been very offended).

Annabeth immediately went to unlock the door, but she froze before the key could make contact. Her head twisted to the side and she glanced at Percy. He was standing, frozen, beside her. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, his face unnaturally pale. He kind of looked like a ghost, or like he was going to break into a sprint and make a run for it.

She opened her mouth to tell him he could still leave if he wanted to. But then thought better of it. Percy wanted this. The conviction in his voice earlier made it more than obvious to her. He was just incredibly nervous. He didn’t need her to set him free of this—he just needed to know she had his back.

“Hey,” she said. “It’ll be okay.”

He cut his eyes to her. “W-what if she doesn’t like me?”

“Are you kidding? You brought her bribery. Why wouldn’t she like you?”

Percy barked out a laugh and smiled gratefully at her. Then he nodded jerkily, as if to say he was ready—or as ready as he was ever going to be. So Annabeth discreetly crossed her fingers while unlocking the apartment door for them.

The door creaked as she pushed it open, and the strong scent of baby wipes smacked her in the face. The tail end of the song Old MacDonald Had a Farm reached her years, right before there was a happy giggle and the song started from the top. This was quickly followed by Thalia’s familiar groan of frustration.

“I swear, if I hear this stupid song one more time—” Thalia threatened.

More giggles came.

Behind Annabeth, Percy audibly sucked a breath.

Looking at the apartment and trying to see it from an outside perspective, Annabeth realized just how messy it was. She’d thought it was bad enough upon her initial arrival, but now it looked so much worse. Saying a tornado had passed through here was putting it lightly. It looked like a dozen tornados had blown past the small space, spreading all sorts of items.

There were papers, sharpies, safety scissors, a pack of open, dry paint and unused brushes in one corner. In another, there was a heap of stuffed animals that had seen better days. Astraea’s bottle was rolling on the floor next to her bag, so it must have fallen from the pocket when Thalia had discarded it earlier. And, of course, the source of the smell—a pile of used baby wipes on the small coffee table in the small living room.

Thalia looked peeved and exhausted as she lay on the fraying couch with one of her textbooks held open. But her eyes weren’t looking at the text. Instead, Annabeth could see them twitching as she glared into thin air, the children song filling the room. Bouncing excitedly next to her, Astraea was grinning madly, her black hair falling into her eyes despite the clips Annabeth had put in it that morning to hold it back. She didn’t seem to care, clearly more invested in the song she was listening to on the joint computer.

“You’re dead to me,” Thalia told the toddler.

Astraea kept on bouncing, her tone-deaf voice singing, “Eer a ‘moo’, der a ‘moo’. Efe-fe-fe-y ‘moo-moo’!”

Finally noticing the open door, Thalia yelled, “Annabeth, your daughter is a menace! Hey, Cookie Monster, look! Your mommy’s here! Go bug her!”

At the sound of the word ‘mommy’, Astraea perked up. She whirled around, nearly losing her balance, and turned to face the door. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Annabeth and she ran around the couch and toward the door. The fact that she nearly slipped on the papers strewn on the floor didn’t seem to bother her. Then again, it was basically a daily routine by now.

“Hey!” Annabeth said, crouching down and holding her arms wide open in preparation to catch the projectile toddler.

But Astraea never made it into her ready embrace. The girl raced forward, then her laser focus shifted to a spot over Annabeth’s shoulder and she faltered before coming to a sudden stop. Her black bangs fully fell into her eyes, which have grown impossibly wide. She blinked slowly, her lips parting in surprise, revealing the small gap between her front teeth.

The silence from the entrance seemed to draw Thalia’s attention completely. The girl blinked at Astraea and Annabeth, then noticed the same thing as the toddler. Her eyebrows shot up at once as she bemusedly said, “Er… are we having company today?”

Annabeth’s arms dropped. Her heart beat erratically in her chest but she did her best to ignore it. She wanted to keep on watching her daughter, but a part of her wondered if she should keep an eye on Percy, as well. He hadn’t said anything since the door opened, she realized. And it wasn’t exactly normal for him to go completely silent.

She started coming up with a speech to introduce him to Astraea. The girl was friendly enough, sure, but she tended to hide behind Annabeth or anyone she knew when she met knew people. Her shyness usually lasted half an hour at most, but it was still something predictable. Was she supposed to warn Percy about that? Or was this something people knew about children? Was Estelle the same?

When she briefly glimpsed at the boy, she found him standing frozen at the entrance. His body was more still than it had ever been before. His eyes were locked on Astraea, darting all over and taking her in like this would be his one and only chance of memorizing her features. His skin was still unhealthily pale, she was a little worried he might just faint right then and there. That would be exactly what Astraea needed to see.

But then, to Annabeth’s shock, Astraea moved around her to stand in front of Percy. She looked up at him with all the trust her two-year-old brain could muster, tugged at his jeans and said, “Up-up-up-up!”

“Who in the world is this?” demanded Thalia.

Percy let out a garbled sound. She watched as he instinctively went to pick the toddler up, only to pause midway. His eyes flickered toward Annabeth, wide and questioning. It took her a moment to realize he was asking for permission, and it nearly made her sob. Without a word, she nodded at him reassuringly.

In an instant, Astraea got plucked right off the floor. She giggled in delight and grabbed the front of Percy’s shirt with her fist. If she was heavy to him at all, he didn’t show it as he simply balanced her on his hip and smiled at the girl in awe. His free hand absently brushed the hair off her face.

“You mell like wateh,” Astraea said very seriously.

He huffed out a laugh. “You don’t say.”

“It good,” she assured him.

“Great. I was getting worried there.”

Thalia gestured widely at Percy and asked again, “No, seriously—who is this guy?”

Getting back up, Annabeth said, “Thalia, meet Percy Jackson. We… we go to school together.”

For a split moment, Percy glanced in her direction once again. Then he went right back to grinning at Astraea. Unlike him, Thalia looked at Annabeth with a smirk stretching across her face. It wasn’t hard to imagine her teases had Percy not been there. Actually, she would probably wait until the guy was gone, then corner Annabeth.

“That explains absolutely nothing,” Thalia said. She looked at Percy and explained, “Annie never brings anyone here. Well, except for Hana sometimes. But never boys.”

“Um,” he said articulately. “Cool.”

Annabeth sent her older friend a death glare and subtly gestured for her to shut up. Smirk widening, Thalia had the gall to pretend she couldn’t see Annabeth.

Tugging at Percy’s shirt, Astraea furrowed her eyebrows and said, “Peh-ee.”

“Huh?”

“Peh-ee,” she repeated. She gave him an expectant look.

Thalia started snickering, her shoulders trembling as she tried to keep it down. Her textbook closed, forgotten in favor of the show she was being presented with. And Annabeth couldn’t even fault her. She just tried to stifle her own laughter with her hand, half turned away from Percy so he wouldn’t see her. She had the feeling he would fumble even harder if he knew just how amused she was with the entire scene.

For a moment longer he still looked confused, but then his eyes widened. “Oh, gods. Are you trying to say my name?”

“Peh-ee,” she confirmed proudly.

“I guess it is kind of a tough name to pronounce. That’s close enough.” He beamed at her and made a whole show of shaking her hand, which made her giggle merrily. “Very nice to meet you.”

Annabeth wished she could take a picture of this moment, keep it frozen forever. She felt this way a lot over the last two years. Everything new Astraea did—every new milestone or funny moment—always felt so enormous, too big to hold in her hands without letting it slip. The number of digital photos she’d taken of her daughter doing the most mundane stuff was atrocious. But she never regretted keeping these moments immortalized. They were precious, they were tender and would never repeat themselves. She never wanted to forget them.

And this moment felt just as big, too. Thalia had no idea—neither did Astraea, really. The two of them were as oblivious as could be. Because without knowing who Percy was, they had no way of seeing this scene as anything more than a random new person entering their lives. Astraea taking to him immediately was incredible, but she had no idea who he was to her. And Thalia barely knew anything about the identity of the toddler’s father, so with barely anything to go by, she had no reason to assume this random guy was anyone important.

Granted, with Percy and Astraea being in such close proximity, Annabeth had no idea how Thalia could possibly miss all of the similarities between the two. Maybe it was willful ignorance.

Her body itched to move, to scour the apartment for the camera. But she couldn’t take her eyes off Percy and Astraea if she wanted to. Besides, if she stepped away, she had a feeling Percy would panic.

The sweet moment was interrupted by Old MacDonald Had a Farm restarting, eliciting another groan from Thalia.

“Okay. That’s it,” the woman said. She got off the couch, approached the computer and stopped the song. “I’ve heard it in the loop since the moment we got home. That’s enough for a lifetime, much less a day.”

“No! No, no, no, no!” Astraea wept. Instead of squirming free to run to the computer, she pointed at it and said, “Peh-ee, song!”

“Whoa, look at your fingers! They’re so cool,” he said. Instead of moving toward the computer, he gently grabbed Astraea’s pointing hand and splayed her fingers. “You look like a rainbow threw up on you.”

The toddler’s wails fell silent at once. She stared at Percy incomprehensibly. Annabeth could see the way her eyes darted down to her fingers, stained with different colors from painting with sharpies. Then the girl turned back to look at the boy holding her, mouth open absently and cheeks flushed from her momentary anger. Her fingers closed around one of Percy’s fingers instinctively.

Thalia, looking immensely relieved, sank down on the couch so she would be safely out of Astraea’s line of sight. She held a thumbs up over the back. Annabeth wasn’t sure whether it was aimed at her or at Percy, but it was clear she appreciated the distraction and the fact that she didn’t need to suffer through the song again.

Sniffing, Astraea said, “Wenbow?”

“Yeah. You know what a rainbow is?”

His voice sounded strangely choked-up. It took Annabeth a moment to notice that his gaze was now shifting between the toddler’s face and the finger she had in a vice grip. She thought back on the pity she’d felt after Astraea was born. How she’d felt bad for Percy and his ignorance of it all. He had missed so much, and he had no idea. Even with her anger and bitterness, she’d genuinely pitied him for not knowing how it felt when this tiny baby held your finger and wouldn’t let go.

He must have gone through this experience with his little sister. With how much Estelle seemed to adore him, Annabeth figured he was used to having his fingers held prisoner by small hands. But it couldn’t have been the same. Because there had to be a difference between being held by a sister and a daughter. Even if externally it was the same, deep down the heart must have realized it was a completely different situation.

Biting her lip, she wrung her fingers in her lap and once again fought the urge to get the camera.

Completely oblivious to his feelings, Astraea demanded to be put down. But she kept her hold on Percy so she could lead him further into the apartment, toward the coffee table. Thalia and Annabeth watched on in amusement as the little girl sat Percy down on the floor, told him to wait, and then hobbled around in search of her papers and sharpies.

His eyes followed her as she walked around the room. Every time Astraea stumbled a little or lost her balance, his body jerked. He looked like he was moments away from reaching out to stabilize her. Annabeth herself was no longer as protective of Astraea, because after the fifth time the toddler had slipped and fell without the world ending, it became rather mundane. But she appreciated the gesture, as subconscious as it was.

“Well, I feel invisible,” said Annabeth as she took a seat beside Percy.

He flashed her an apologetic smile, then turned his attention back to the toddler. He looked softer than she’d ever seen him before.

“So you guys are friends from school?” said Thalia. She tapped her finger on her textbook and squinted at Percy. “Why do you look so familiar? I can’t… have we met before?”

Without looking at her, Percy shrugged. “Not that I know of.”

“And—what? You’re supposed to do a project together or something?”

“No.” Annabeth gave her friend a dirty look. “Can you please stop acting like I’m some kind of antisocial gremlin?”

“But you are.” Thalia shrieked indignantly when Annabeth poked her in the leg. “Fine. It’s just a little unexpected, okay? You usually make Luke and I inform you of every single person we bring over, and you never have your classmates around. You’re so particular about the people you allow in here. I’m just a little blindsided, Annie.”

Astraea picked up a yellow sharpie and nearly toppled over. Beside Annabeth, Percy’s hand twitched. He looked like he wasn’t even hearing the girls chatting next to him, too consumed by the presence of the nearby toddler. She smiled fondly and grabbed his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

Head tipping a little toward her, he muttered, “She’s so…”

“Yeah.”

“I know she’s bigger than Estelle, but she still looks tiny.” His voice cracked a little at the last word. He cleared his throat and asked, “What’s her name?”

Thalia stared at him blankly before turning to drill a hole in Annabeth’s head. “Seriously, this is weird. What’s going on? You brought someone here and haven’t even told him your kid’s name? That’s not like you.”

And, Annabeth realized with a jolt of mortification, she really hadn’t told Percy what Astraea was called. Maybe she’d assumed their classmates would tell him. Or maybe she’d been too busy thinking about a hundred other things, she never realized she’d never mentioned Astraea by name around Percy before. Considering how little she liked sharing about her with others, it kind of made sense for her not to say too much.

But gods, this was so messed up. She was honestly surprised he hadn’t asked for her name before now. Has this thought been nagging him this entire time? Or was he only just now realizing he had no idea how to refer to the little girl he was being introduced to? She wouldn’t put it past him, but she couldn’t blame him for it either. He had a lot on his mind too, she was sure. This detail, while big, wasn’t as life-altering as Astraea’s mere existence was.

“Oh, gods. I’m so sorry,” she whispered in horror. “I should have told you before now. I haven’t even thought of that. Oh, I’m gonna be sick…”

“It’s fine,” he said, finally looking away from Astraea so he could smile reassuringly at Annabeth. “I’m not blaming you or anything. It’s been hectic lately. It’s okay. I just wanna…”

He looked back at Astraea.

Thalia narrowed her eyes at him, her brows lowering over her eyes. She kept on tapping on her book insistently, her lips pressed together into a thin line. The frustration she was feeling gleamed in her eyes. It must have been annoying for her to struggle to put a finger on why exactly Percy looked so familiar to her.

Eventually, though, the older girl said, “It’s this stupid joke.”

“Huh?” Percy shot her a look. “What is?”

“The name,” Thalia said with an eyeroll. “She said it was about something to do with the father, but I still don’t get it. It just sounds stupid every time she tries to explain it.”

“It’s not stupid. You just weren’t there,” countered Annabeth. She turned to Percy when he squeezed her hand urgently, and her face softened. “Her name is Astraea.”

For one second his eyebrows furrowed and he stared at her blankly. And then understanding flared to life in his sea-green eyes. It reminded her so much of the way Astraea would sometimes react while making connections between things: the parted lips, the little gasp, the shoulders rising. Only difference was that instead of celebrating his realization by clapping his hands or something, Percy’s face flushed and his expression morphed into mortification.

“Seriously?” he spluttered.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know why you’re reacting this way. It was a nice moment.”

“It was so embarrassing,” he protested. Covering his eyes with one hand, he groaned. “Gods, out of all the moments you could have picked, you chose the one where my brain wasn’t even working. Are you kidding me?”

“Wait…” Thalia said slowly.

Ignoring her, Annabeth said, “Well, I think it was a nice moment.”

Percy grumbled something illegible.

“Wait, you’re—” Thalia gaped at them both. Shock and anger slowly overtook her features. “You’re telling me you’re the idiot from summer camp—”

She was cut off rather effectively by Astraea. The little girl was still busy collecting her art supplies. But she seemed to have noticed something was going on, because she approached the three with a green sharpie in one hand and a paint brush in the other. Her eyes darted from one person to the next before they settled on Percy’s covered face. She stepped closer to him.

Her hand rose, like she wanted to put it on his arm. But then she froze at the paint brush she was still clutching. Thinking hard, she hesitated, then let it clatter to the floor. It drew Percy’s attention. He dropped his hand from his eyes and tensed once he noticed how close Astraea was to him. He didn’t move when she patted his arm, just looked at her wondrously.

“Okay?” she asked.

He blinked. “What?”

“Peh-ee okay?”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” His embarrassment lifted a little and his eyes crinkled. “You need any help?”

Her face lit up and she gave him the sharpie. “Yeth.”

“Okay,” he said. He spun the sharpie casually, which seemed to fascinate her. “I’ll guard it with my life.”

Astraea patted his arm. “Again.”

Percy chuckled and spun the sharpie a second time. Then a third and a fourth because Astraea couldn’t seem to get enough of that. She tried once herself, but the sharpie instantly dropped to the floor. Then she frowned, handed it back to him and patted his arm urgently.

All the while, Thalia stared at the two like she couldn’t believe she’d missed just how obviously related they were. Some of her anger ebbed away at the sight of Annabeth inconspicuously gesturing for her that everything was okay and that she would explain later. At least she was willing to let the matter be while Astraea was in the area. They could discuss this later, once she wasn’t around to soak up the tension.

For now, Annabeth was content with watching her daughter interacting with Percy like it was the easiest thing in the world. From personal experience, Annabeth could say wholeheartedly that it was very true.

✧ ✧ ✧

Winter, 2010

Percy remembered the summer of 2007 vividly. He may have romanticized it a bit, coloring all his memories with brighter pinks and greens and reds and yellows. He maybe have turned that summer into his safe place—something to think back to whenever he felt all alone, depressed and lonely. He remembered the sun shining brightly down on his walks with Annabeth through the forest. Or their several picnics by the canoe lake—sometimes joined by Grover. Or exploring each other in every way they could think of in the short time they had together.

Mostly, he just remembered the warm feeling that seemed to follow him from memory to memory. And the closer to Annabeth he got, the cozier it all got. Later, once he was back with his mom and feeling nostalgic in the face of his inability to contact Annabeth, he thought back on it all and wondered if that was what love felt like. He wasn’t sure. It ended up so abruptly, all he was left with were his memories, his musings, and his unanswered what ifs.

At some point he’d decided that he did love Annabeth. He knew what love felt like. He had his mom for reference. He loved his mom, and he loved Grover, and later on he loved Paul and Estelle. So he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he did love Annabeth. In some form, in some way. And it had been so intense—all of it crunched into such a short time period—that he was left with thee unresolved emotion stirring in his chest relentlessly. He was so hung up on it that he never gave anyone else a chance.

It felt all-consuming. It was sharp and soothing and burning and scathing. Percy had never experienced drowning before, being a son of Poseidon and all, but he kind of felt like he was suffocating from the intensity of his feelings. It felt like too much and too little, all at the same time. And he remembered thinking that this feeling—this enormous, all-encompassing emotion—couldn’t possibly be topped by anything else.

He was so wrong, it was laughable.

Because here he was right now, lying on the floor of an unfamiliar living room, eyes glued to the form of a little girl, and he felt like he was staring at his heart, just walking about freely. He couldn’t look away if he tried—it was like she had her own gravitational field around her, and he had no choice but to be pulled right toward it.

It made no sense. If he looked at it objectively, it just made no sense. This little girl’s existence was only revealed to him this year, and he never before felt like something was missing. There was no cosmic sign that the world had shifted on its axis or that something marvelous had happened. His heart had been right there, beating against his ribcage, the entire time. It had loved his parents and his camp friend and Estelle and his camp memories.

But it still felt like it now. He couldn’t explain it if he tried. All he knew was that he was here, and she was here, and instead of feeling like his chest was hollow, he just made sure to keep her in his sights. It felt like the only thing he could do.

The sound of a voice rising a little before being shushed quickly made Percy tense. Astraea raised her head from where it had been resting on top of a pillow. She sent the closed door down the hallway a look. Then she went right back to lying on the floor beside him. Her body shifted a few times as she adjusted, trying to find a comfortable position.

“Your pillow is making a run for it,” he chuckled when she kicked her legs a little and accidentally pushed the pillow. Pulling it back, he stationed it under her head. “There. Ready to go to sleep?”

She closed her eyes for two seconds before snapping them open once more. “Banket. Need banket.”

“Right.” He sat up and glanced around, searching. “And that would be… where exactly?”

In the blink of an eye, Astraea was back on her feet. She bounced up and down as she grabbed Percy’s wrist with both hands and started pulling with all her might. He still found it kind of astounding, how comfortable with physical touch she was. With someone she didn’t know. His mind had practically blanked out when she’d asked him to pick her up earlier, and he still felt incredulous and breathless at how easygoing she seemed to be around him.

Smiling, he complied and got up. He expected Astraea to just pull him where they needed to go to retrieve a blanket, but this girl seemed to be determined to prove him wrong. The moment he was on his feet, she let go of his wrist and instead held her hands up, made grabby motions and babbled, “Up, up! Peh-ee, up!”

He huffed in amusement and picked her up.

A while back he developed the habit of telling Estelle that she was getting heavy as she grew up. But compared to Astraea, she weighed close to nothing. Astraea was older, slightly bigger, and she didn’t feel as familiar in his arms as his sister. Estelle tended to reach toward his face when he held her. Unlike her, Astraea apparently preferred stabilizing herself by tangling her fingers in his shirt. And while his baby sister was still too young to speak, this little toddler was loud and seemed to be determined to show it off.

“Go!” she said, pointing with her hand in the direction of the hallway. The door opposite the one where the voices were coming from.

He tried to swallow his unease as he followed her instructions. They were going to get a blanket. He hoped. Gods, he hoped the toddler knew what she was doing and that she wasn’t messing with him. Annabeth had told him he could walk into that room if he needed to, but he still felt like he would rather avoid it if he could.

But Astraea was insistent, and he couldn’t even entertain the idea of telling her no right now.

“You really are a menace,” he grumbled lightly.

He walked down the hall and stopped before the open bedroom door. Annabeth had opened it earlier, to make sure he knew he really could go inside. When he peered in, he found the room to be almost messier than the living room, which was saying a lot. There wasn’t much space, because the apartment as a whole was rather small. Still, one regular bed was pressed against the corner, right under a window, and right next to it was a messy, unmade toddler bed with two stuffed animals resting on top.

There was a dresser beside a diaper changing station. One of the dresser’s drawers was open, revealing neat rows of tiny clothes in all the colors of the rainbow. One pink dress was unfolded and draped over the side. Bunched-up socks were strewn just about everywhere Percy looked. Taped to one of the walls were dozens of sloppy sketches. He could vaguely make out Annabeth in some of them because her bright yellow hair gave her away. But. Well. Astraea wasn’t the best artist, okay?

Maybe some day.

This room looked lived in. There was evidence of Annabeth and Astraea’s lives splattered all over between these four walls, and his heart constricted at the thought. He had to remind himself to keep his arms steady so he wouldn’t accidentally drop the girl. But gods, he felt a little overwhelmed, standing at the threshold of this room and trying not to feel like he was walking into an entire world that didn’t really belong to him.

Behind him, slipping past the other room’s door, he thought he could recognize Annabeth’s muffled voice. The moment that blond guy—Luke—had walked through the door of the apartment, Annabeth had dragged Thalia and him to this room so she could explain Percy. Both of them had looked kind of murderous regarding him earlier, and he didn’t have high hopes the animosity would go away, no matter what Annabeth was telling them.

He could still hardly believe the fact that Annabeth had willingly left him alone with Astraea. She hadn’t even hesitated about it. She’d just told him to keep an eye on the toddler while they were busy talking, and then he was left alone with this small human he didn’t know. With his luck, Astraea would end up falling on her head and this day would end up with them visiting the ER.

“Banket!” cheered Astraea, twisting the dash of his shirt more. “Banket to sweep!”

“No way!” he gasped, stepping into the room with all the confidence of an intruder. “You’re telling me your blanket has turtles on it? That is the coolest thing ever!”

“Tototh,” she said. Her voice sounded almost reprimanding.

He looked at her, then down at the blanket. “Buddy, we’re saying the same thing.”

She shook her head from side to side and insistently said, “Tototh. Toto-to-toth.”

“Tortoise?” he tried.

The way her face lit up would have been funny had he not felt utterly humiliated. Did this toddler really just correct him? Was she serious? His insides warmed as he imagined Annabeth standing right here, telling her daughter that no, these weren’t turtles. They were tortoises. Of course. Then he bit down on a grimace at the reminder that he should have been there for stuff like that too, and he hadn’t.

Shaking his head, he picked up the blanket and nodded theatrically. “Yes, yes. Now I see it. Definitely tortoises. I should have known. Are you done showing off your big brain now?”

She twisted in his arms and pointed at a worn-looking star plushie that was resting next to her pillow. It looked like it was old and had seen better days. But he figured that if it was on her bed, she liked it enough anyway.

“Theedee Bwen,” she said proudly.

“I’m pretty sure that was Gibberish.”

Astraea stretched her hand toward the star. “Want Theedee Bwen!”

Something churned in his stomach. He tossed the blanket over his shoulder to free his hand, then carefully bent down without agitating the girl, and picked up the star plushie from the bed. It was a dull yellow and didn’t look all that special to him, but Astraea looked at it lovingly and she squeezed it in her grip until it squeaked.

“That’s its name, right? What you’re saying—that’s the name you gave this toy?” he said with false levity.

“Need sweep, too,” she said sagely.

“Astraea?” Percy’s eyes darted from her face to the worn plushie. “Are you trying to say Seaweed Brain?”

Instead of answering, she leaned her head on his shoulder and started singing the plushie an off-tune nursery rhyme.

Sure. Why wouldn’t she have a plushie with that name?

Did that mean Annabeth had mentioned him before? Did Astraea know the meaning behind this name or was she as oblivious to it as she was to her own name? And if Annabeth did tell her stories about him—however vague—were they good? Bad? Neutral? Considering the plushie was named Seaweed Brain, he figured most stories must have just been ridiculous and stupid. Probably all of the dumb stuff he’d done during their summer together in the camp.

He left the room quickly, feeling like he couldn’t bear to stand in a space that was so abundantly not meant for him a second longer. If he could put Astraea down, he would have done that too. But she was draped over him so casually, her hair tickling his cheek and her heart beating over his own. She didn’t really strike him as the kind of girl who would appreciate being put down when she was so comfortable.

Being back in the living room would have to do. It wasn’t as confined. It wasn’t as private. It still didn’t belong to him, but it was better; closer to mutual ground.

Astraea kept on humming sleepily to the star plushie. She made no move to get off Percy as he sat back down on the floor next to her pillow. She just burrowed her face into the crook of his neck, her breaths tickling his skin. He drew random patterns on her back before realizing he was writing the letters of her name on repeat.

“Peh-ee?” she mumbled.

Don’t think about it, he told himself sternly. Just don’t think about it.

Gods, he loved hearing his name coming from her lips. He also hated it so much. It was a reminder of what he could have been, but wasn’t. Because had he been there, she wouldn’t have called him Percy, would she? But he hadn’t, and she did.

He cursed his own thoughts internally as he took in a calming breath.

“Yeah?” he rasped out.

“Ong, pwease,” she said through a yawn. “Pwetty pwease.”

He chuckled wetly and combed his fingers through her hair. She hummed and leaned into the touch a little.

“My mom used to sing me this one song when I was little,” he said. “It’s about the sea.”

“I love ee,” she said. “You mell like ee.”

“So I’ve heard.”

She pulled away just long enough to delicately hand him the star plushie. The look she gave him was a little more intense than he’d anticipated. Like she was studying him, trying to make sure she really could trust him to keep her toy safe. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry or just feel honored. In the end, she seemed to have decided he was okay, because she went right back to leaning against him.

“Peh-ee, ong,” she asked again.

Furrowing his brows in concentration, he sang, “My father went to sea, sea, sea; to see what he could see, see, see; but all that he could see, see, see; was the bottom of the deep blue sea, sea, sea.”

By the time the door in the hallway opened and the three came out, Astraea was fast asleep. She was carefully wrapped in her tortoise blanket, head resting on the pillow. Percy was lying on the floor like before, one hand holding on tight to the star plushie and the other carding through her hair rhythmically.

His chest ached and the smile on his face was small and sad. And he kept on watching the way her chest rose and fell with her every breath, unable to tear his gaze away.

“Percy?” he heard Annabeth saying tentatively. “You okay?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer that question. All he could think to say was a meek, “I’m sorry.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Winter, 2010

As Percy walked out the front door of the apartment, every instinct in his body screamed at him to turn back around. He needed to go back inside. He needed to get in there and take his place next to Astraea again. He needed to see her, hear her, make sure she was breathing and safe and comfortable and alive—

But this wasn’t his responsibility. Biology claimed his relation to her, but other than that he was essentially a stranger. He knew close to nothing about her. Hell, before today he didn’t even know what to call her. So all of these mundane, parental instincts weren’t on him. Other than taking part in her initial creation, he basically did nothing. The fact that he was even allowed near her now was a miracle. He should be grateful for that.

Instead, he heard the sound of the door clicking softly behind him, and felt like the world was collapsing around him. Or maybe he was just feeling his own knees buckling as he dropped to the floor, leaning heavily against the wall. Breathing raggedly, he pulled his knees up against his chest and pressed his forehead to them as unwanted tears slipped past his eyelids and rolled down his cheeks.

He tugged at his hair with one hand, maybe a little too roughly. A second later he untangled his fingers and pressed his palm against the floor instead. He hated how the motion now reminded him so strongly of brushing Astraea’s hair.

A warm body pressed against his side. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know it was Annabeth. He was almost certain she’d told him earlier that she would go out to the hall with him, but it was all kind of a haze. He’d been too busy trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was about to leave. Leave the apartment, leave these people, leave for who knows how long—

“Percy, you have to breathe,” Annabeth told him gently.

He tried—he really did—but all it did was make him gasp. And then the tears intensified and he had to do his best to stifle his sobs, because he wasn’t supposed to cry. He just got what he wanted. He wanted to see Astraea, to be able to come in contact with her, and he received just that. This was supposed to be a good thing. Yet all he felt right now was like something was ripped right out of his hands, and he couldn’t get it back.

A hand came to rest on his back, going up and down soothingly. His body pressed more firmly against Annabeth’s side, seeking out her warmth and comfort to ground his mind. A part of him wished she would shove him off or pull away. But she didn’t. She just kept on rubbing his back while waiting for him to catch his breath.

Tiem passed. He wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually his sobs turned into hiccups and small gasps. Tremors ran through his body every now and then, but the space between each tremor became longer. Once no more fresh tears kept on morphing in his eyes, he subtly dried his face on his jeans. He was sniffling and miserable. But while everything was still awful, the edge seemed to have drained out of him right along with the tears.

It was silent for a while. Annabeth was still rubbing his back.

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t expecting that,” he said, voice raw.

“Which part?”

Lifting his head, he leaned his chin on his knees instead, stared at the opposite wall and said, “All of it.”

Annabeth momentarily lifted her hand off his back to brush his hair out of his eyes. Then she brought it right back. He focused on the repetitive motion and kept on taking deep breaths. He was not about to have a second meltdown. He wasn’t.

“Yeah,” she said, a smile in her voice. “She can be a lot.”

“She reminds me of you.”

The snort that followed didn’t surprise him. “Yeah, right.”

“Not physically, obviously.” He rolled his eyes. “I mean… she acts like you. Gods, you should have seen it. We went to pick up her blanket, and I commented on the turtles on it, right? And she turned to me, all serious, and said they were tortoises, not turtles. I don’t even know what the difference is!”

Annabeth laughed. Percy felt the corner of his lips tilting up a little.

“And she does this thing when she’s confused—you know?” he added. “She, like, wrinkles her nose, and her eyes get all intense and scary. The number of times you must have given me that exact same look…”

“I don’t do that!” she protested.

“Sure you do.” He turned to face her, cheek against his knees. “Why did Thalia call her Cookie Monster?”

Looking exasperated, Annabeth said, “Because she devours them if given the chance. We once left her alone with an open pack. By the time we came back, all the cookies were gone and her face was covered in chocolate and crumbs. She was in a sugar rush for the rest of the day. It was awful.”

Finally managing a proper smile, Percy bashfully said, “Okay, so she may have gotten some things from me…”

“She got most things from you, Seaweed Brain,” she deadpanned. “It’s like all of your chaotic energy was condensed in a body that’s too small for it. She’s insane. We passed by this fancy restaurant once and I looked away from her for one second. The next thing I knew, she was inside the restaurant, trying to climb into a tank of lobsters.”

He laughed.

Rolling her eyes at him, Annabeth grumbled, “I knew you’d find it funny. It was mortifying to me, but it would have totally made your day.”

Percy straightened up before leaning back against the wall. Annabeth moved her hand away, and he mourned the loss of that immediately. But he’d have to do with their arms brushing. Maybe she knew what was going through his head, because Annabeth very purposefully nudged his foot with hers.

He wanted to smile, but the levity had left him once again as he stared up at the ceiling of the hallway.

“I wish I could have been there,” he said.

The sigh she let out in response was so emotionally charged and exhausted and heavy, he kind of felt bad for even opening his mouth.

What right did he even have to complain? He’s been absent from Astraea’s life this entire time so he never had to deal with any of the troubles she caused, never had to give things he loved up for her, never had to put her before everything else in his life. Meanwhile, Annabeth had taken care of her perfectly well, if the sweet, happy ball of sunshine he’d met today was any indication.

“If I had a drachma for every time I wished you’d been there, Percy… I would have been beyond rich,” she said. Her foot nudged his again. “I kept on hoping you’d show up or something. I wanted to believe this was all a big misunderstanding so much. Luke and Thalia thought I was crazy for thinking this way. They expected me to hate you, I guess. And I wanted to hate you, because it would have made this whole thing a whole lot easier. But I was just… I was so confused.”

He lowered his head to look back at her. His hand absently came up to brush against his cheek. He could almost feel the ghost of the sting he’d felt from the punch she’d given him when they met again. It had been a pretty obvious sign that she hated him, in his opinion. So now, hearing from her that she hadn’t, it sounded kind of unbelievable.

Maybe guessing what was going through his mind, Annabeth met his eyes and smiled a little. “I was mad and upset, but I didn’t hate you. I could never explain it to Thalia and Luke in a way they would understand because they weren’t there that summer. But… but none of it ever made sense to me. It was like I had two completely different versions of you in my head. And I couldn’t make sense of it. How do you explain to someone that a person who very obviously let you down couldn’t be the kind of monster they’re imagining because every memory in your head contradicts that?”

She glanced back at the apartment door and added, “I told her stories about you. I could never bring myself to share much with Thalia and Luke, but Astraea was easy.”

“You—” Percy was very aware of the thin wall pressed against his back, separating him from the apartment where Astraea was currently asleep. “You did? Why?”

The flat expression she leveled him with made Percy feel like his question was extremely dumb.

“Because you’re her father, Seaweed Brain,” she said, like it was supposed to be obvious.

His eyes started stinging again. “No. I’m not. I’m really not. I’m not saying I’m backing out now,” he added when her eyes narrowed. “I’m just… I’m a nobody to her. She doesn’t even know me. I don’t know her. I want to, but… look, you said so yourself—I’m not her father in any way that matters, because I missed… everything.”

Annabeth flinched. “I did say that, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“You did.”

She inhaled shakily, then quietly said, “I did.”

Percy went back to staring at the ceiling. Mostly because he felt like if he looked at Annabeth for even a second longer, he’d burst into tears again. So he was surprised when, only a couple of seconds later, he felt her hand grabbing his tightly, tugging to gain his attention. He didn’t turn to look at her, just hummed to show he was listening.

“Okay, fine,” she said. “I did mean it at the time. But back then I thought you kept out of touch on purpose, Percy. I thought you’d been ghosting me or something, so every milestone you missed was on you. But it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t… it wasn’t either of our faults. I don’t blame you anymore. I just hope you won’t miss anything else.”

He closed his eyes, as if that would help him block out her voice. He didn’t feel like he deserved her forgiveness or her understanding or whatever it was she was offering him. It still felt like it was his choice. Maybe he could have been milder upon his arrival back home two years ago—then Gabe wouldn’t have lost it. Then Percy wouldn’t have ended up at the hospital with a broken arm, and when he would have given Annabeth a call, she’d have told him everything…

“Percy,” Annabeth said gently, “she’s not even two. She doesn’t care if you haven’t been here all along. She only cares about what’s happening now. And I don’t know how, but she took to you instantly. She never did that before.”

A small smile graced his face as he pictured that moment in his mind—feeling cold all over and like he was going to faint at any moment, only to be enthusiastically be approached by that little freckled girl, with her hair falling into her curious eyes, and her excited grin. He’d expected her to cling to Annabeth and eye him suspiciously, or keep her mouth shut around him, because she had no idea who he was. But she’d defied that instantly.

“I think I have my dad to thank for that,” he said. And if Annabeth heard the strain in his voice, she didn’t mention it.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s connected to the sea. I can’t explain how, but I could feel it. It’s like the tug I get when I’m near my dad, or the sea—just slightly less intense. It’s this feeling that pulls you in, because these things just feel safe, you know? It’s instinctual. I bet she felt that. And she doesn’t have the words to explain it, but it’s there.”

Annabeth was quiet for a long moment, processing the information. Then she irritably said, “You’re telling me she just innately likes you? That is so unfair!”

He snickered, then fully laughed when she socked him in the shoulder.

She waited until he was done before saying—in a much more serious voice: “The point is—she has no expectations from you, Percy. She doesn’t need much. She just needs you to be around. She…” Her nails dug into his hand but he didn’t complain, just waited for her to find the words. “Look, the only thing that really matters is—do you like her?”

I love her, he thought instantly.

He didn’t feel like he had the right to say that, yet.

Opening his eyes slowly, he blinked at the ceiling and then brought his gaze down. Annabeth’s stormy eyes were already watching him attentively, searching his face quickly. He expected her to look guarded and suspicious again at his prolonged silence, but instead found concern written all over her face. He got the feeling she wasn’t concerned about Astraea, though; not this time around, at least.

It was probably the wrong thing to say, but when he opened his mouth what came out was: “I forgot giving her the stuffed dolphin.”

If his response caught her off guard, Annabeth didn’t show it.

“You can give it to her next time you see her,” she said.

Next time. Because there was going to be a next time. He clung to these words like a koala, repeating them in his mind to remind himself that even if he was going home right now, he was allowed to come back. He was allowed to visit Astraea again, to spend time with her, to be a part of her life.

He wasn’t sure what expression was on his face, but her entire body seemed to sag down in relief and her eyes gleamed warmly. She squeezed his hand and smiled. She still looked exhausted and weary, but the tension had left her and some of the weight seemed to have lifted off her shoulders.

“We’ll be fine,” she finally said with all the conviction in the world.

He wasn’t sure which ‘we’ she was talking about, but he hoped she was right.

✧ ✧ ✧

Spring, 2010

Considering the situation, Percy figured his mom and Paul were supposed to be the nervous ones around the house. And they probably were—just better at hiding it than he was.

His mom was in the kitchen, chopping a salad. She also kept an eye on Estelle, who waddled around like a drunk penguin, making excitable noises and sending her mother and brother wide-eyed looks to make sure they were watching her. Paul was in the living room, grading tests and reading some of the weirder answers his students had written down to try and make them laugh. Percy’s mom did chuckle at some of the bizarre comments, but he himself was too anxious to find the mirth in it.

His eyes flickered over to the clock hanging off the wall above the TV. Both his hands were tapping on the kitchen island, his legs bouncing to a different beat on the stool leg. His brain felt like it was racing while processing absolutely nothing. He shot the dining table a look and internally groaned at the realization that he’d already set it earlier. So he had nothing to do now except wait.

“Maybe we need more balloons,” he said.

Shooting him an unimpressed look, his mom said, “I don’t think we need more than one bag, honey.”

“You can never have too many balloons,” he said defensively.

“Until one blows up, Estelle puts the pieces in her mouth and chokes.” She shook her head when he tensed and shot his sister a concerned glance. “She’ll be fine. Calm down.”

Percy watched attentively as Estelle started playing with one of the balloons that had made its way into the kitchen. “Calm. I’m very calm.”

She gave him a long look, then turned to finish dicing a tomato. He stared at her choppy movements before sending the clock another anxious look. The clock hands were taunting him, he was sure of it. No way were they supposed to move this slowly and deliberately. It felt like they were counting down the seconds before his inevitable doom, and he was not happy about that.

Behind his back, Paul let out an amused snort. The sound of his pen scratching against a piece of paper seemed to be louder than usual. Percy tried to focus on it rather than the loud ticks of the clock or the sound of his own heartbeats in his ears. Still, it wasn’t enough to distract him in the least.

“So what’s the deal, sweetie?” his mom said.

She was done with the salad and was wiping her hands with a towel, finally facing him properly. The way she looked at him while leaning on the counter with her back made Percy’s mind flash back in time to the day he’d first told her about the baby. Back then, her shocked and upset face had quickly shifted to worried and sympathetic once she was confronted by Percy’s mortification and misery. He couldn’t help but think so much has changed since that day.

When he looked at her blankly for too long, his mother added, “You’ve been seeing them every single day since for the last few months. What’s got you so nervous this time?”

“It’s different. It’s always at their place. They never came here before.” He bunched his fingers in his hair and leaned his elbow on the counter. “And I know Annabeth will be okay with meeting you guys, but I’m not sure how Astraea will react. I never saw her interacting with people she doesn’t already know.”

“Except for you,” his mother noted.

“Except for me. But her reaction to me was abnormal,” he amended. “I just don’t know how this will go. I mean, this day could go horribly wrong. What if it does go horribly wrong? I missed her literal birth, I wasn’t there for the first birthday, and now I’m going to mess up her second one. Oh, gods…” He sprang to his feet and made to move toward the landline. “Maybe I should just call to cancel—”

His mother intercepted him. “Percy Jackson, don’t you dare. I’m finally about to meet my granddaughter. You’re not depriving me of this.”

He faltered, but before he could say anything back, she put her hands on his shoulders and looked up to meet his eyes with a stern but empathetic look.

“Look,” she said. “I can’t even begin to imagine how scary this all must be for you, Percy. Raising a kid is always scary, let alone when you’re handling a situation as complicated as this one. But listen to me—even if something goes wrong, it’ll be fine. We’ll push through it, okay? We’ll do our best to fix it. We’re all just going to wing it and hope for the best.”

From the living room, Paul chimed in with an enthusiastic, “It’s going to be interesting, that’s for sure.”

“Interesting in the best way,” confirmed his mom.

Percy nodded jerkily. He still felt too jittery, but he tried to rely on the comfort and realism of their words, nonetheless. He couldn’t plan out for everything. And anyway, that was Annabeth’s thing more than it was his. Yes, he wished he could make sure everything went smoothly, but it was mostly just a pipe dream. Especially with how determined Astraea seemed to be when it came to doing unexpected things just to flip his world on its head.

He felt a pressure on his leg and craned his neck down to see Estelle leaning on him. Her head was bent back so she could look up at him. When he offered her a shaky smile, she smiled back instinctively and babbled incoherently.

“How are you excited?” he asked her, crouching down to be closer to her eye level. “You don’t even know what’s going on.”

Estelle shrieked happily and slumped forward so he’d catch her. He chuckled with a little more ease and picked her up. Ever since meeting Astraea, he couldn’t help but think Estelle was almost ridiculously light. She was smaller and less inclined to make some questionable choices just to scare the living daylights out of him.

Gods, he wanted Astraea to get here already.

As if on cue, there was a very stiff knock at the door, followed by four slightly louder ones. Percy froze and listened as Paul’s pen stilled, the scratching coming to a stop. His mom’s face showed a mixture of anticipation and agitation. Estelle just patted his cheek like she always did.

The first one to move was his mom. She tossed the towel on the kitchen island and rushed to the front door. Her bright greeting as she opened the door earned a curious coo from Estelle and finally prompted Paul to get up and leave his work for now. On his way toward the entrance, the man sent Percy a nod and patted him on the back twice before moving on.

What jolted him out of his stupor was the familiar voice of Annabeth saying, “Oh, um, thank you. Yes. It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Jackson. Nice to meet you, Mr. Blofis.”

He stepped closer and stared. His parents were standing with their backs to him, facing the guests. Annabeth had a tight smile on her face as she nodded at the two, looking just as nervous as Percy felt. Her eyes momentarily flickered over his mom’s shoulder and met his own. The tension on her face elevated a little as she smiled more fully at him, stirring the butterflies in his stomach from their brief slumber.

Gasping, his mom suddenly crouched down and said, “And you must be Astraea. We’ve heard so much about you, dear.”

He took a step to the side so he could see better. His eyes searched for a second before he spotted the familiar toddler. She was unusually shy, clinging to Annabeth’s leg and trying to hide behind it as she peered at Percy’s mom quietly. She was wearing a blue dress with rainbow-striped pants peeking from under her skirt. Two pins were holding her bangs back the best they could. She looked like a very colorful deer caught in headlights.

Seeing this side of her was bizarre. Technically, Annabeth had told Percy beforehand that Astraea would most likely react exactly like that to meeting his parents. But knowing about this and actually seeing it with his own two eyes were two completely different things. He couldn’t believe this was the same girl who had taken one look at him and instantly demanded to be picked up. This had to be some kind of shapeshifter or something.

Over his mother’s head, Annabeth caught his eye again and mouthed, “I told you so.”

He stuck his tongue out at her. Estelle immediately copied him.

“I’m sorry, she can be very shy,” said Annabeth to the crouching woman. “She just needs some time to warm up to you.”

“That’s fine,” said Paul. “Why don’t you two come in. You can put the trolly in the corner, right over there, next to the window.”

“Thank you.”

Percy watched as the man pressed himself against the wall to give them space. When his mom straightened up, her eyes were slightly damp, darting between the little girl glued to Annabeth’s leg and his own figure, like she was trying to catalogue all of the similarities between them. Despite the fact that she seemed to be on the verge of tears, her smile was wide and honest, making the corners of her eyes wrinkle merrily.

Once the path was clear, Annabeth started walking into the apartment, pushing Astraea’s trolly forward. Her eyes were darting all around, taking in the place curiously. He wanted to drag her away from some of the photos she seemed to linger on, but the urge died once he noticed her tense posture relaxing at the sight of the picture frames lining the walls.

And suddenly Astraea’s wide, scared eyes spotted Percy and her face cleared. She let go of Annabeth’s leg at once and nearly tripped over her own two legs as she ran straight toward him, calling “Peh-ee!” at the top of her lungs.

He knelt down just in time to catch Astraea with one arm, his other one struggling to stabilize Estelle and keep her out of harm’s way. The weight that slammed into him nearly knocked him back on his butt, but he managed to balance himself at the last second.

“H-h-hey!” he laughed, all of his nerves from before evaporating into thin air. “I missed you, too.”

His mom leaned against Paul’s side, one of her hands pressed over her heart. She didn’t look worried about Estelle’s safety, her blue eyes much more focused on the way Astraea was hugging Percy with all the energy a two-year-old could contain. Paul looked touched too, but his whiplash from the abrupt change in the toddler was much more prominent on his face.

“Every time,” muttered Annabeth as she stationed the trolly. “Every single time without fail. This is getting ridiculous.”

“Your mom is jealous,” he told Astraea conspicuously.

He doubted she understood exactly what it meant, but she still giggled like it was the funniest joke in the world. Annabeth glared at him, but the effect was ruined by her lips twitching upward.

Completely ignoring Estelle, Astraea fisted the dash of his shirt and said, “Up, pwease. Peh-ee, up!”

“Um.” He looked at Estelle, who nearly poked him in the eye. “Guys, a little help?”

Apparently impatient, Astraea stuck out her bottom lip and looked like she was on the verge of bursting into tears. He figured it made sense. He couldn’t think of a single time when she’d asked him to pick her up and he’d refused or made her wait. Okay, so he may have spoiled her a little—just a tad bit; a smidgen, really. But he had to make up for lost time, all right?

His mom came to his aid soon enough. She plucked Estelle from his hand and quickly distracted her with a red balloon when she started squirming to get back to him. And with both his hands free, Percy beamed at Astraea and swept her right off the floor and into the air. Her pout vanished instantaneously and she squealed.

“There we go,” he said brightly. “I heard it’s your birthday!”

Astraea showed off her gappy smile as she lifted two fingers. Before Percy could react, she frowned at them, glanced at Annabeth for confirmation, and then turned right back to Percy.

“No way! You’re two?” he gasped, earning another giggle. He shot Annabeth a look. “She’s two? You can’t be two.”

“Two!” Astraea insisted. She took one of his hands and meticulously lifted two of his fingers. “One. Two. Bethday two!”

“Well, I guess you’d know.” He looked at Annabeth as she seemed to look for something in her bag.  “Is it normal that she can already count?”

She pulled something out and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Calling it ‘counting’ is a bit much. Luke worked with her on this for the last week. She connected the names of the numbers to the fingers. She does that a lot now. Try talking to her about getting permission to go to the bathroom during class. She’ll love it. There we go, now we’re ready,” she added as she put a flower wreath over the toddler’s black hair.

Astraea frowned. She felt around for the wreath, wrapped her fingers around it and pulled it off. She stared at it like it was the strangest thing in existence, then gave Annabeth a wide-eyed look, as if asking her why she just put this on her head. Then she abruptly turned back to Percy and practically shoved the wreath in his face.

Percy spluttered. He heard his mom and Paul laughing at his expense.

“Come on, Raea,” said Annabeth. “You couldn’t wait to put this on since the minute we bought it, but now you suddenly don’t like it?”

He tried to put it back on her head, but Astraea immediately took it off again. She furrowed her eyebrows and gave him a betrayed look. It made him chuckle despite his unease. He didn’t like making her look at him this way—and it wasn’t the first time—but it was difficult to take a two-year-old seriously when she looked this ridiculous.

As if taking offense to his thoughts, Astraea put the wreath over his own head. Triumphant at last, she clapped her hands together and nearly lost her balance and fell out of his hold. He had to adjust her quickly. It didn’t help that the wreath was extremely crooked, one of the leaves falling into his eyes.

“Hang on,” chuckled Annabeth. She straightened the flower wreath and nodded. “Oh, yeah. She’s totally right. It suits you so well, Seaweed Brain.”

Percy sent her a dirty look.

“I’m gonna go get the camera,” Paul decided with a fond smile.

His gaze drifted over toward his mom. She was just standing in place, watching Astraea, Annabeth and him with one hand still resting over her chest, like she was trying to make sure her heart wouldn’t explode. Estelle was balanced on her hip, playing with her red balloon and babbling at her mother without being able to gain much of her attention.

“Let’s try this again,” Percy decided. He smiled at Astraea as reassuringly as he could while walking toward his mom. “Astraea, meet Sally Jackson. She’s my mom.”

“Mom?” the toddler said in confusion.

She glanced at the woman, then ducked her head and buried it in his shoulder. His insides melted.

His mom looked at Annabeth and him with eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “She’s amazing. Thank you.”

Much like her daughter, Annabeth ducked her head a little, her face tinged with red. He offered her a hand and was relieved when she accepted it at once, taking her place by his side like it was the easiest thing in the world.

✧ ✧ ✧

Spring, 2010

After the meal was over, Percy spent ten minutes trying to extract Astraea from his side in order to go to the bathroom. Annabeth was no help at all, clearly taking pleasure in watching his struggles. He imagined Astraea must have been like that with her most of the time. Now she just had a shiny new person to cling to, and Annabeth was basking in the knowledge that, for once, it wasn’t her.

He couldn’t say he minded too much. Every time Astraea chose to come to him, to seek him out, to sit in his lap or attempt to climb up his leg so he would pick her up, he felt a new burst of relief. He couldn’t help it. He was so glad she had no problem accepting him into her life, no matter how unfamiliar with her routines he was. Every time he did something she considered weird, she’d just give him this blank look and then correct him in a way that was so reminiscent of Annabeth, it was hilarious.

Still, as he peeked into the living room, still unseen, he smiled at the sight of Astraea sitting on the floor to play with the kitchen set his parents had bought for her birthday. His mom was sitting across from her, entertaining her with a soft smile. And Astraea was finally not shying away from her, instead letting her play with her without too much of a fuss. She kept on handing Paul pots and glasses so he could eat some air every two seconds.

Annabeth was nowhere in sight.

Knowing that stepping into the living room would pull Astraea away from the adults, he quietly turned his back on them and walked down the hallway. He opened the door of his parents’ room a crack, just to make sure Estelle was still soundly asleep. Then he turned to his own bedroom, finding the door ajar and the back of a familiar blonde peeking from inside.

“Hey, Wise Girl,” he said.

She turned to smile at him as he joined her inside. It was kind of embarrassing, he realized as he looked around. His room was always a mess, and he hadn’t really thought of cleaning it a bit for today. He wasn’t expecting anyone to come in, really. There was nothing interesting inside as far as he could tell.

“This really does suit you,” she said, eyes darting to the wreath.

“Thanks.” He tried to adjust it a little but figured he only messed it up more when Annabeth bit her lip. “Are you hiding or something?”

Shaking her head, she looked around at the room with more wonder than Percy thought was called for. There were books and notebooks spread all over his desk. His bed was unmade. His skateboard was resting in the middle, ready to trip people over. The carpet was crooked and its corner was folded. He was pretty sure he could see a pair of boxers peeking out from under his bed but he tried not to stare so Annabeth wouldn’t notice. She probably had already.

“I don’t know. I always wondered what your room would look like,” she said eventually.

He stared at her. “It’s a room, Annabeth. Not a magical mirror that glimpses at my soul.”

She ignored him in favor of looking at the photos he’d developed over the years and taped to the wall. There were pictures of his mom, Paul, Estelle, Grover. There were a few mortal friends he’d managed to acquire, although he wasn’t in contact with any of them anymore. And, of course, there were three new additions to the collection.

Two pictures were given to him by Annabeth soon after their reconciliation, so he’d have a peek at Astraea’s life from before. The third was one Annabeth had taken during his second visit, depicting him and Astraea pretending to sleep on the floor, both of them smiling too much for it to be believable.

Annabeth stared at all of the photos, her fingers trailing over the ones with Astraea. Her head tipped a little at the sight of a picture showing Percy and a redhead girl from his previous school.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked suddenly.

“Sure.”

They both shot the open door a look when Astraea let out a happy squeal. Then they relaxed again.

“Have you…” She wrinkled her nose a little and seemed to steel her nerves. “Have you gone out with anyone? Since camp?”

His heart skipped a beat. That couldn’t be normal, but he was still alive. He wiped his palms on his jeans when they started feeling clammy. He came into this room expecting basically nothing. He’d spent a lot of time with Annabeth recently, after all, and neither one of them had ever really broached any subject that really, actually related to the two of them. But this question kind of felt like veering into this territory.

Swallowing thickly, he said, “Um, no. No, I haven’t. I figured it would be kind of a jerky move to go out with someone while still being hung up on this girl I met at summer camp once. You know?” He paused, then asked, “Did you…?”

She snorted. “Sure, yeah. There was a line of guys who wanted to date a single mother.”

“Their loss,” he shrugged.

Annabeth’s eyes rolled fondly.

When she stepped toward him, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to open up his arms and let her in. He rested his hands on her hips and kept his eyes on hers. He thought back to how agitated he’d been at the age of fifteen, faced with this girl he really liked. Now he was still nervous, but there was something so comfortable and familiar about this that he couldn’t force himself to freak out the way he would have over two years ago.

He still had to muster up his courage to say, “So, say I wanted to get a kiss—”

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. “Yes?”

“Do I need to, like, name another constellation again? Because that would totally suck. I still remember none of them.”

“Smooth, Percy,” she huffed.

“I try.”

She shook her head in exasperation, but before he could add anything else, she kissed him. His mind went blank for a moment. His brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening. His body startled at the familiar sensation. His heart was hammering against his ribs, his lungs squeezing out all of the air they had in store.

But he had Annabeth’s fingers in his hair, and her nose bumping against his cheek, and he’d thought he would never experience anything like this ever again. He wanted this moment to last forever. He knew he would run it through his head for a long time, the same way he looked back at all his summer camp memories. So he tightened his grip and pulled her closer and he never wanted to let go—

“Daddy!” a cheerful voice called from behind him. “Look!”

They startled apart. Their heads snapped toward the open door, where Astraea was standing, bouncing up and down and showing off a plastic plate filled with air. She didn’t seem fazed in the least by the fact that she just walked in on the two of them kissing. She simply beamed up at Percy and waved the plate enthusiastically.

He stared down at her, his face burning and heart racing.

Then he stared some more.

Annabeth nudged his side, her own cheeks flushed. “Earth to Percy—your kid is talking to you.”

“I—” He blinked. “Huh?”

“Look! Look! Pashta!” exclaimed Astraea. She showed the plate to Annabeth, then back to Percy. “Daddy, pashta.”

His mouth fell open. “Did she just…”

For a moment Annabeth looked confused, then her eyes lit up. “I forgot she hasn’t done it around you before. She calls you that all the time when you’re away. Mostly when it’s just me. I haven’t thought about…” She shook her head at him and squeezed his hand encouragingly. “It’s normal to her. Stop being weird about it. You’re freaking her out.”

And it was true. Astraea’s enthusiasm ebbed away a little, her eyes going round with worry and confusion. She stepped closer to Percy and tugged at his jeans questioningly, her plastic plate nearly slipped out of her hand. When he still didn’t move, she whined needily, let the plate clatter to the floor, and started making the familiar grabby motion up at him.

The familiarity of it seemed to kickstart his brain. Percy tried to keep his hands steady as he lifted her up and looked into her eyes. He brushed the hair off her face when it slipped out of the clips. The smile that spread across her face again was familiar, too.

“Sorry, I—” He looked at Astraea, his chest exploding with warmth. “I love you.”

The toddler looked confused but content enough to let it go.

“Come on,” Annabeth told Astraea with a smile. She readjusted Astraea’s clips and Percy’s wreath. “Let’s go show your dad why Thalia calls you Cookie Monster.”

“Cookies!” she cried in delight.

Seriously, Percy wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up here. But he found that he didn’t really mind all that much.