Chapter Text
After what happened at Mount Othrys, Annabeth was more gravely injured and traumatized than anyone thought, and Percy was a walking nervewreck at all times.
Especially because, deep down, he knew that there were things that Annabeth, once again, was keeping only to herself. He kept telling himself “be glad that she’s here, and that she’s okay, you’re just imagining things”.
But he wasn’t.
Every time Percy looked at Annabeth, he could tell. She isn’t okay, and she’s either not aware of it, or she’s in denial. Despite that, she still does her best to cover it up by overworking herself again because it’s the only thing that she’s sure of. More like, it’s the only thing she’s ever known. She never allows herself to rest.
Day and night she trains, does counseling cabin work, reinforces the camp’s defenses alongside Clarisse, and covers up the sleepless nights with multiple, unhealthy doses of coffee. Most of that was already normal for her, but now it kept on getting worse.
It started quietly. Deliberately, almost as if she believed she had control over it.
Percy noticed that she spent more time locked up in her cabin, making up poor excuses for going to bed early, and sleeping in until lunch.
That in itself was already weird because she always was the first person to wake up in the morning, and she’s well-known for staying awake until late.
Percy grew more and more frustrated because he could very much see through the facade. He can tell that she is growing more and more tired with every passing day, and that she was, in fact, not sleeping — the bags under her eyes made a very compelling argument.
However, what worried Percy more than her not sleeping was her skipping meals. It wasn’t anything too abrupt at first. One breakfast due to training, here, one dinner due to sketching, there… Gradually, her cheekbones and collarbones became more pronounced.
And, as much as Percy tried to convince himself that it was all just a phase, that she had it under control, like she claimed to, and that addressing it would make things worse, he knew that eventually he had to do something.
Because Annabeth has already entered self-destruction mode, which means it’s only a matter of time before something bad happens.
Percy didn’t expect for it to happen so soon, though.
One second he was sitting by the lake after sparring with Clarisse, and the next thing he knows, he’s being dragged to the infirmary by the Stoll brothers, who had promised not to say anything, but instantly ran to tell him that Annabeth had straight up collapsed during training without a single blow from her opponent, in fear of his reaction. After all, they knew from experience how jumpy and impulsive Percy could get without news from Annabeth.
Percy was genuinely grateful for the warning, but the second he heard the words “Annabeth”, “infirmary”, and “collapsed” in the same sentence, he bolted without a second thought, forgetting to thank them, or even to breathe.
Besides the lack of breathing he also suddenly got dizzy, and his vision tunneled, but he didn’t stop running. In fact, he nearly tackled a group of campers just to get through the infirmary’s entryway. He vaguely remembers apologizing, though it might’ve been just the voice in his head.
By the time he reaches Annabeth’s bedside, he just falls on his knees, and immediately starts scanning her face for injuries. Surely enough, she’s still unconscious, and thinner than usual, which is definitely not a good sign. Normally, Percy never even stops to question anyone's weight, let alone Annabeth’s, but this is different. He’s worried about her.
So, he decides to talk to Will Solace, the Apollo kid accompanying Annabeth’s case from up close since she came back from Mount Othrys.
‘Will, listen. I know that Annabeth’s hiding something, and I feel like you might know more about it. And, normally, I wouldn’t pry about stuff that she doesn’t feel comfortable sharing with me, but… I’ve been giving her space for long enough to see that she doesn’t have it under control, and I’ve realized she’s got some self-destructing coping mechanisms that aren’t helping much.’ He stops to breathe. Will looks torn. ‘So, please, if there’s anything I can do to help, tell me.’
‘Percy…’ Will hesitates.
‘I know, I know… Patient-doctor secrecy and those professional, medical rules you swore to follow are very important under normal circumstances. I understand that, believe me. But this isn’t normal, is it?’ Percy asks rhetorically.
Will opens his mouth to respond, but Percy cuts him off, talking some more.
‘Exactly. There is something seriously wrong going on with Annabeth, and I want to do my best to help. Besides, you know me! Whatever it is, this will stay between the three of us. And I’ll take full responsibility if anyone finds out you broke your medical oath. As for Annabeth herself, I’ll deal with her rage too.’
Will lets out a resigned sigh, and pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’s trying his best to find a convincing argument that he can protest with as he rubs his closed eyes, but Percy can tell he’ll yield.
However, any excitement that he felt from knowing he’d finally find out the truth died down the moment he saw the gloomy look on Will’s face.
‘It can’t be that bad… right?’ Percy questions, willing his voice not to tremble.
‘Percy… Annabeth has an eating disorder. It was most likely caused by anxiety, nightmares, and PTSD from everything she’s been through. Eating can be difficult for her. By avoiding meals, she seeks control. Because, of course, in her life there’s not much else she gets to have full control over. But she doesn’t understand that this has gotten out of hand, I think.’ Will exhales, running his hand through his face. ‘She doesn’t understand that her excessive need for control is compulsive, and that it’s killing her. The image she sees of herself in the mirror is probably healthy, fat even. That’s very frequent with ED patients. It’s called Body Dysmorphic Disorder. But, again, I’m not sure if this symptom is applied to Annabeth. She constantly avoids talking about it, so I can only make assumptions, and hope that my analysis is correct.’
‘But you’re certain about the eating disorder itself.’ Percy whispers.
It’s not a question. They’re both past the denial stage. The ED is an ugly fact.
‘Yes.’ Will mutters back anyway. They stare at Annabeth’s unconscious body for a long moment.
‘There’s more isn’t there?’ Percy asks, his tone sad. His hand hovers over Annabeth’s, but he doesn’t touch her yet.
Will takes a deep breath. ‘What worries me the most as her doctor, and friend is that… she doesn’t seem like she’s capable of going back to normal on her own. And, in truth, there’s not much we can do.’ He shrugs. ‘But, Percy… if she doesn’t choose to start eating regularly again soon, she might not make it past the next six weeks.’
Percy flinches violently like he used to when he was hit by Thalia’s lightning.
‘What?’ He utters breathlessly, his voice hoarse, and broken.
‘I’m sorry, but it is that serious,’ Will continues, doing his best to remain professional, but not insensitive. ‘I don’t know how she managed to hold on until now, if I’m being honest. Usually, someone in this state isn’t physically capable of performing normal day-to-day activities on their own that require standing for too long, like changing clothes, or showering, let alone training, but she does. It takes a lot of strength and willpower to do it.’
Percy looks like he will either pass out or cry in the next thirty seconds, which is exactly how he feels. He swallows hard, and does his best to collect his thoughts.
Will kneels beside him at Annabeth’s bedside, doing his best to provide comfort.
‘Look, if you want to help just… be there for her. Keep her company, like you always do. Try to make her feel safe enough to open up to you, but don’t push. And don’t act too differently, otherwise she’ll accuse you of thinking that she’s fragile, which she isn’t. She’s still the same, only she’s hurting a little more, and having trouble with regulating her emotions. Also, don’t pretend that this isn’t a problem to be handled. Because it is. The disorder itself, of course, not Annabeth.’ Will explains.
Percy nods, but looks slightly confused. ‘In theory, I understand what you just said, but… what exactly should I do…?’
‘Eat with her. Schedules, and organization help. Don’t talk too much about food, try to act natural, especially during meals. They can be stressful. So, if possible, try not to leave her alone during a meal, at least for the next couple of weeks. But let her set boundaries — she has to feel in control, so if she doesn’t want to eat, you can’t force her. The trick is patience, which can be complicated, but you have to put in the effort because you’re the only one that she completely trusts to let her guard down.’ Will presses, talking slowly, so Percy can remember everything.
‘Okay.’ Percy responds, nodding to himself.
***
Percy's pov:
Annabeth and I are on our way to my mom's apartment by train. As usual, the public transport is packed, and Annabeth recoils and flinches every time she feels something or something bumping into her in the slightest. Plus, she's quite literally hyperventilating and her eyes are filled with tears, so I gently pull her in by the waist and embrace her in a hug, shielding her from the crowd with my body.
She stiffened for a minute, probably debating whether or not it would be okay to let herself be this vulnerable in a train full of people.
But, apparently, being overwhelmed spoke louder than her pride this time because I can feel her melting into me and holding onto my shirt for dear life. Under normal circumstances, this would probably feel weird and pleasant at the same time. And, sure, I can’t help but feel a little fuzzy and warm with the closeness, however the concern is still much louder. Especially because she’s shaking and I can tell that it’s not just nerves.
‘Annabeth?’ I call out gently.
She hides her face further into my chest and mumbles something inaudible.
‘What did you say? Sorry, I couldn’t—’
‘My back hurts.’ She whispers a little louder, cutting me off.
Oh. My stomach sinks and I loosen my hold on her waist. That explains the wincing.
She shakes her head and reaches behind herself to make me tighten my grip on her again, so I do. ‘When did it start hurting?’ I ask.
She recoils a little again as if ashamed of her answer before talking very quietly. ‘Never stopped.’
My whole body immediately tenses up before my mind even catches up with the words that just left her mouth. It never stopped. Ever since— Annabeth held up the weight of the sky almost a week before I did. It’s almost New Year’s Eve, which means that weeks have passed. And now she’s telling me she’s been in pain this whole time?
‘Percy—’ She begins.
‘You…’ I whisper, looking down at her.
‘It’s not as bad as it seems, I swear!’ She quickly tries to amend her statement. Or downplay it. Either option makes me sick to my stomach. ‘Some days the pain isn’t as unbearable.’
‘Why are you doing this to yourself?’ I question, half-incredulous, half-confused.
‘I have no other choice!’ She exclaims in frustration.
‘Of course you do! Annabeth—’ I retort loudly, cutting myself off for a second just to lower my voice to the way it usually sounds when I talk to her. ‘Please, tell me. On a scale of 1 to 10… I want the truth.’ I plead with her, paying no mind to the people around us in this noisy train.
She pauses for a while, staring attentively at our feet as she contemplates her reply. I feel my heartbeat hammering against my ribs, not because of the proximity between us this time, and that thought alone breaks my heart. I’d rather feel flustered because of her than feel nervous because I know she’s in pain anyday.
‘Maybe a 6; 8,5 on a bad day. Holding the sky itself was way worse than this. But I still can’t concentrate.’ Annabeth explains. I think this is as much of a detailed explanation as it’ll get. She’s got her eyebrows all scrunched together and turning upwards, and her big brown eyes are wide open despite her obvious discomfort.
Over the years, I’ve learned to resist the urge to reach out and smoothen her expression out with a flick of my thumb between her brows, but, today, it overcame me.
And so I did it.
It was just a brush of my finger against her skin, a feather-light touch. Still, her eyes instantly flutter shut, and her shoulders fall more loosely at her sides. I still have my other arm around her, so I pull her closer and she lays most of her weight on me with an insane amount of trust that never fails to amaze me every single time.
Annabeth’s pov:
When we get to Percy’s apartment and Sally greets me with a hug, I do everything in my power not to cry. When was the last time somebody hugged me like this and made me feel like I was an actual kid being part of a family?
Never, my brain tells me.
Because Luke and Thalia both left me. And Percy doesn’t count because with him things are different. I don’t see him as a brother. He’s… my best friend.
At least that’s what I tell myself when my heart skips a beat every time he does everything in his power to keep me safe, to protect me without making me feel useless or frail, and to make me feel wanted by remembering and noticing all the details about me. I’m starting to think that he knows me better than anyone, and beyond the Annabeth that everyone sees at camp.
He knows me better than I know myself. And that— it’s absolutely terrifying.
But it’s normal with best friends, right? It has to be. Because I’m way too tired to deal with an emotional turmoil right now. To be honest, I’m way too tired to do anything really. Especially eating. It feels like a chore, and I’m sick of having to think about it. Even more now that I have everyone’s attention on me because I collapsed.
I might be many things, but I’m certainly not stupid. I’ve noticed Will’s expression in the Infirmary when he told me that my medical condition had gotten worse, I’ve noticed Sally’s frown when I walked through the door, and I know for a fact that my avoidance towards eating is most likely the main reason why I’m spending the week here in the first place.
And then there’s Percy.
Sweet, attentive Percy who, all of a sudden, became completely unreadable after the collapsing episode came down. Sure, he is still caring and concerned as usual, but he’s also acting way more quiet than he usually is. Almost like he’s measuring every word before talking to me, all so he doesn’t address the huge elephant in the room.
I don’t like that. But I don’t want to talk about it either. I don’t know what I want.
‘Why don't you go wash up before we eat dinner, sweetie?’ Sally tells me. ‘We'll order some pizza. Percy get Annabeth some clean towels will you?’
Wordlessly, Percy went to go get the towels and handed them to me, and I got to the bathroom. As I was taking a shower my vision started to go blurry at the edges and the world tilted a couple of times, which made me nauseous.
I ignore the feeling though. There's nothing unusual about it anyway.
This is your fault. You're getting weak and useless, a voice in my head says.
No, I tell myself. I’m perfectly capable of showering without collapsing again, really.
Except, maybe I’m not.
Because as soon as I step out of the shower and wrap myself up in a towel, my knees buckle and I fall to the ground. And what makes everything worse is the fact that I’m awake.
Dizzy. But awake.
A part of me immediately wishes I had just passed out instead. Perhaps if I was unconscious, this whole situation wouldn’t be so humiliating. They heard me falling, I know they did. It’s only a matter of time before they find me in this position and come to the conclusion that I am incapable of taking care of myself.
You held up the sky and now you can’t even handle yourself. Look at how far you’ve sunk. Such a disgrace. You can’t eat, can’t train, can’t sleep, can’t shower, can barely even stand.
You’re pathetic, Annabeth Chase.
The salty tears roll down my cheeks non-stop like a broken faucet. I don’t bother wiping them, or even breathing at all. I’m so tired, I don’t even make a single noise.
Maybe I fell on purpose just because I didn’t feel like standing. No. Why would I burden Sally and Percy like that on purpose? That doesn’t sound right…
My knees buckled, and I fell, end of story.
‘Annabeth, dear,’ Sally calls out knocking on the bathroom door. ‘Are you alright?’
Silence. Complete and utter silence. My throat feels closed up, and I’m still not breathing at all.
‘Percy says he heard a noise, I just wanted to check if you were okay.’ She adds.
I open my mouth. Then I close it. And open it again. Still not breathing.
Breathe.
I can’t!
Breathe.
My stupid throat won’t let me!
BREATHE, ANNABETH!
I claw at my throat desperately. Finally, I gasp, and cough, and my senses are sharper, less wobbly and distant like they were when I fell.
‘I…’ I whisper very quietly, my voice utterly defeated.
Don’t be such a baby, raise your voice. Talk normally. Use your words, Annabeth.
I’m fine. Say it! SAY IT!
‘I need help.’ I manage to choke out in between sobs, my voice hoarse from crying.