Work Text:
Percy had gone up against Titans and Giants. She had even taken trips to the Underworld.
None of that compared to her math final.
She looked at the paper like it had personally offended her.
“Okay,” Percy muttered, dragging a hand through her black hair. “I’ll deal with you. You’re just numbers. You’re not even alive. I’ve fought gods.”
The numbers were not impressed.
Across from her, Annabeth sat with her arms crossed, calm and focused—the same look she got when planning a battle.
“It’s algebra,” Annabeth said. “Not a war percy.”
Percy pointed at the paper. “This is worse than war. At least there, things try to kill you in a fair fight.” She poked the equation. “This is dishonest.”
Annabeth sighed. “It’s not tricking you. You just have to solve for the variable.”
“Solve for the variable,” Percy repeated, unconvinced. She scribbled something, then stopped, tapping her pencil against the table. “Why is there an ‘x’? What did it do? Why are we trying to find it? Maybe it’s hiding for a reason. Maybe it’s scared.”
“Percy—”
“I’m serious. What if the ‘x’ has trauma?”
Annabeth rubbed the bridge of her nose. “It’s a placeholder.”
“So am I,” Percy said flatly, “because I have no idea what I’m doing.”
She dropped her head onto the table with a dull thunk.
“I would rather fight Ares again.”
“That didn’t go well,” Annabeth reminded her.
“Yeah, but at least I could hit him.”
Annabeth pushed the paper back toward her. “Try again. Slowly.”
Percy groaned but sat up. “Fine. Step one…” She squinted. “Why are there fractions? Who decided math needed fractions? That was a bad decision.”
“Percy—”
“No, really. Whole numbers were fine. Everyone was happy. Then some ancient Greek was like, ‘You know what would make this worse?’”
Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “You are insulting an entire civilization.”
Percy waved a hand. “I’m Greek. I’m allowed.”
She tried again, more carefully this time.
“Okay… multiply both sides… then subtract…”
Her pencil froze.
“…wait.”
Annabeth leaned forward. “Yes?”
Percy stared at the page. “…I think I solved it.”
Annabeth took the paper, scanned it, and smiled slightly. “You did.”
Percy blinked. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
Percy snatched the paper back. “No way. There’s no way I got that right.”
“You did.”
“…Whatever.”
A pause stretched between them.
Percy leaned back in her chair, staring at the equation like it had betrayed her.
“I hate that I understand it now.”
Annabeth laughed softly. “That’s how it works.”
Percy dropped her pencil. “I’m done. I solved one problem. I’m retiring.”
“You have twelve more.”
Percy slowly turned her head.
“…I’m going to cry.”
“You said that before.”
Percy picked up her pencil again, glaring at the next problem.
“Alright, listen here,” she muttered. “I beat Gods. You are not taking me down.”