Archive of Our Own

P e r c y 

If you were an outsider looking in through the window, perhaps standing on the fire escape while smoking a cigarette, you’d think Percy Jackson just walked into his empty bedroom — that he was alone, by himself, not a single person with him.

Percy knew better, though. He could feel her presence like a second self, like she was a piece of him; an organ ripped out from under his skin.

“Wise Girl?” he inquired, mere seconds after he stepped into the room.

He was more than just certain that she was there with him. He had grown attuned to her over the years and had found comfort in her company. At this point, it would be harder for him to miss her.

Percy could see shadows move in his peripheral vision and heard a rustle as she took off her New York Yankees cap — a gift from her mother that helped her turn invisible at the small cost of feeling like you had lice when wearing it; Percy had found that out the hard way.

He already had a smile slowly dancing along his lips when he turned to her, but it vanished after he saw her face. Annabeth was flushed and had dark circles underlining her pretty, grey eyes. They looked bleary and exhausted.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, taking a step in her direction.

Annabeth stepped back from him until the backs of her knees hit his bed. She wobbled a little before giving up her fight with balance and gravity and letting herself fall onto the mattress.

“I think I’m sick,” she croaked.

Percy had never heard her voice sound like this, not even when she was hoarse from crying; not when she spent the entire day yelling orders at him during capture the flag and sparring. She sounded miserable.

“I think you’re right,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck while he tried to gather some courage for his next words, hoping they’d sound as smooth as he wanted them to and not stupid and utterly cliché, “Want me to take care of you?”

She looked up at him with those big round eyes that drove him wholly insane. He would give her anything if only she asked.

“Would you? I came to ask your mom for help,” she explained.

“She and Paul have gone to Montauk over the weekend. I fear I’m your only hope,” Percy answered, throwing in a lopsided smile for good measure.

He had been doing this thing as of late. His school friends had motivated him to shoot his shot with the girl of his dreams; however, they had never met Annabeth Chase.

All they knew was that he had a crush on his friend from summer camp. He could not just ask her out; there was too much at risk.

He would never forgive himself if he lost his best friend over something as futile as a teenage crush.

So, instead of blatantly asking her out, he had been trying to flirt a little with her here and there, always treading the thin line between boy-best-friend and boy-best-friend-that-was-definitely-interested-in-more.

Besides, they both had so much else going on at the moment; he doubted dating was anywhere near the forefront of her mind.

There was a war coming, either the end of the world or just another Thursday; they couldn’t be sure. So, until then, Percy thought it safer to test the waters. Flirt with her, show her casual affection that could be mistaken as platonic, and look for signs of discomfort.

At the first hint of her disliking the attention, he would drop it and act like it never happened. He would move on. He was sure he would fail, but he would keep trying for her sake. He searched her face for any disgust now and saw nothing but a quiet hope.

“I’m pretty sure I have a fever,” Annabeth said, followed by a heavy attack of coughs that she tried to hide in the curve of her elbow.

He moved closer again, hands outstretched so he could feel her face, and this time she let him. She closed her eyes when he laid his hand gently to her forehead and hummed quietly.

“You know,” she tried, but had to stop to clear her throat before continuing, “That’s not really an effective way of telling if someone has a fever.”

He kept his hand on her face, caressing her a little. She kept her eyes shut.

“Then why aren’t you stopping me?” he questioned.

Annabeth fought the smile that tried to sneak onto her face before giving up and opening her eyes.

“It feels nice. I’m sick and craving comfort,” she replied, sounding strangely tense.

He backed off, feeling like that tenseness was actually a sign of her discomfort despite her words. She was probably just trying to not make him feel weird for touching her unnecessarily.

“You get comfy here, and I’ll make you some tea, okay?”

Annabeth nodded in return, already reaching down to undo the laces on her boots. She pointed to his closet with one hand, while working on the knots with the other.

“Can I take some of your clothes? I didn’t bring anything else.”

“Of course,” came his easy reply before he left the room.

He did not feel easy, though. He could imagine just how adorable she would look, drowning in his basketball shorts and a hoodie. He had grown a lot the past year, and she barely reached his shoulder anymore. This could not be good for his heart.

Percy looked for a good tea that would help soothe her aching throat, while mentally writing himself a shopping list. He would need to DoorDash some ingredients to make her a good, filling soup for dinner.

He could also skate to the grocery store around the corner, but he didn’t want to leave her alone like this. He was glad she had shown up in the first place.

Annabeth usually acted like she needed nothing and no one to take care of her. He felt like it was a serious sign of growth on her part. He was also glad it was his apartment she decided to go to, in order to get some help.

It didn’t seem relevant to him that she wanted his mom instead of him. He could understand, really. He too relied heavily on his mother. Percy was sure he had bragged about what a phenomenal caretaker Sally Jackson was at least once or twice, so it made sense that Annabeth would think of her. But he would be damned if Sally hadn’t raised him to be just as good.

He’d make sure that next time when she came looking for aid, it would be him first and his mother second.

Percy shook his head at his racing thoughts. His mother was the reason Annabeth came by in the first place, so he should be grateful.

He spooned some honey into the big cup he had gotten out for Annabeth’s tea. It was one she had actually picked out herself.

They had gone shopping for some cozy fall décor for her dorm room, and she fell head over heels for the spooky Peanuts design. When he told her to get it, she had argued that she had too many mugs already and her roommate had complained about the space they were taking up in their room, although Annabeth kept them all hidden in her own desk.

She said she couldn’t fit more and left it on the shelf with a sad look on her face. Percy had gone back immediately after he had dropped her off at the subway station and bought it for her to use whenever she came over to his place. It would be a delightful surprise.

Now, as he filled the mug with hot water and watched Snoopy and Charlie Brown in their Halloween costumes dance on the side of it, he felt a little shy about the whole ordeal. Would she think it was silly of him to buy it? Did she actually like it or just act like she did when he pointed to it in the store?

Maybe she didn’t like it and just thought he did. Oh, no; did he get her a gift that he liked instead of one she genuinely wanted? Did she even know the characters? She didn’t really grow up with pop culture, so maybe Peanuts meant nothing more to her than groundnuts. Gods. He was so stupid. How had he not thought of any of these things before?

Completely lost in his spiral, he didn’t hear Annabeth approach until she coughed next to his shoulder.

“Do you have any medicine?” she rasped.

“Does ambrosia help?” came his reply.

He didn’t remember the last time he had been sick. The past couple of years, he kind of assumed demigods couldn’t catch the common cold; immune due to their godly genes. Annabeth was living proof that his hypothesis had been incorrect. She shook her head, no.

“Ambrosia is for wounds, not sickness. I need human medicine,” she clarified.

“I’ll check the bathroom cupboards. Here,” he reached for the mug to hand it over.

Annabeth's eyes lit up, a beautiful smile painting her face. She looked ten times healthier then, practically glowing.

“Oh, my Gods! You bought the mug?” she shrieked.

Her voice broke off on the last word, throat still too sore to match her excitement. He wasn’t sure what to feel.

On one hand, he was relieved that she did seem to like the surprise; on the other, his heart broke a little when she sounded so ill. He felt his arm move back to scratch at his neck again, a new nervous tick, he realized.

“Yeah, uhm… you liked it, and I thought that way you’d have something here…” he trailed off, not sure what else there was to say without downright embarrassing himself.

Before he could regret it and go back into his shy shell, Annabeth had flung her arms around his torso in a tight hug. He realized she was wearing his school hoodie, his last name printed in bold letters across her shoulder blades.

“I love it so much. It’s so, so cute,” she mumbled somewhere under his chin.

He prayed she couldn’t hear his heart racing.

“You’re welcome,” he said, “I was going to make you some soup for dinner. Do you have any wishes?”

She shook her head, still holding onto him tightly. He returned the hug as well as he could while still holding onto the mug with one hand. Percy breathed in her scent — lemony and warm — before deciding that he would be brave. He dropped a soft kiss to the top of her head and felt himself flush instantaneously. It was his turn to clear his throat.

“Take this to the living room and get comfortable on the couch, yeah? You can put on any movie, show, or whatever you like,” he said, pulling free of her embrace, “I won’t even complain about documentaries. Promise.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, taking the mug from him. He went to the bathroom to riffle through the cabinet for some medicine. He was sure his mom kept something somewhere. 

A n n a b e t h 

She didn’t remember the last time she had felt this helpless. Annabeth felt like someone had cut her open, then sliced her lungs to ribbons and put her tonsils through a cheese grater. She felt weak and tired. Her original plan had been sneaking into Percy’s apartment, finding Sally, and asking her for medicine, then leaving to wallow by herself in her dorm room for the rest of the weekend.

Her roommate had gone to meet her girlfriend’s parents and wasn’t expected back until late Sunday evening, so Annabeth could soak up that precious alone time she was so often denied.

But when Percy offered to take care of her, she couldn’t resist. She was not entirely sure how serious he was at first, but the tea in her new favorite mug soothed not only her throat but also her nerves. Maybe she would be okay after all.

While she hated being reliant on others, she couldn’t help but enjoy being the center of Percy’s affection and attention.

It meant he would spend the weekend with her and not his cool, normal, mortal friends; it meant he would spend his weekend with her and not Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

Or that other girl in his friend group. The brunette with the twin. Lola.

Annabeth had stalked every member of his little group online, on multiple occasions, but the girls annoyed her more than anything. They were both so pretty and interesting.

Lola liked to play video games with her male friends and had a cute button nose and brown deer-like eyes, the same color as her hair. She also had soft curves, dimples, and constellations of moles on her round face.

Rachel was eccentric and artistic in this effortlessly chic way. She volunteered at the local youth center on weekends and was head of their school’s drama club. Her red hair and freckles made everyone look at her at least twice.

They were pretty in ways Annabeth was not, with all her muscle and scars. She hated them on principle.

She could hear Percy rummaging through some cabins in the bathroom and wondered if he was looking for her medicine. She could’ve done that herself if he had told her where to find it.

Although she wanted him to be busy with her this weekend, she did not want to be a bother, so she got up to look for him and offer her help. So, what if she was sick? Her arms still worked, didn’t they?

It took her three tries until her voice came out to ask him if he needed help. He had already turned around to face her on the second try, clearly aware of her efforts. When she did manage the words, he had promptly sent her back to the couch.

So, she was relegated to the sidelines again, left alone for her thoughts to run wild. She tried to tell herself he had not fully sent her away, so he obviously did not mind her presence. In fact, he was the one to offer his help. She did not even ask. It still made her feel guilty.

She had always hated relying on other people. Ever since she was little, she had learned that love was conditional and if you were too big of a burden, you would get left behind, kicked out, and thrown to the wolves.

She didn’t want to wear Percy down. They had just started to be okay again after that awful last summer. They hadn’t talked for weeks after, but just as the air outside turned from late summer to early fall, he fell back into her arms.

She had used some of Daedalus’ plans for a mobile phone for demigods and worked on it with the Hephaestus cabin to turn it from an idea into reality. Percy, of course, got one. They weren’t perfect, and you still should not use them excessively, but they were a whole lot safer than regular cellphones.

The first thing Percy had done upon receiving his new phone was to text Annabeth to tell her how brilliant she was. It was hard for her to turn a cold shoulder to him after that.

Now, however, she did not feel brilliant. She felt restless and exhausted. Sitting still was hard enough on a regular day with ADHD, but being sick and waiting for someone else to pick up the pieces made it arguably worse. Maybe watching something on TV would help.

Percy knew she wasn’t a fan of regular movies; most were unable to hold her attention for long, so he was letting her pick out what to watch. She liked documentaries on architecture and history; as of late, she had also been getting into true crime and marine life documentaries, since she knew those were things Percy was interested in, but she felt silly putting one of those on.

He didn’t know she’d been enjoying them; besides, he himself could not focus on documentaries to save his life. Maybe a YouTube video? That was what they usually settled on when they watched something together.

That thought was quickly followed by the realization that she was overthinking her own actions again. She had been doing that a lot with Percy lately. He’d started behaving a bit weirdly after they started talking again in late September, and it always gave her pause. It wasn’t a bad change per se.

Just one that made her feel fuzzy and warm and fueled the hearth of hope that had been simmering inside her rib cage since they first met. She wasn’t oblivious. Well, not anymore. When he had sent the first flirty text message, she read it five to ten times to make sure she was understanding it properly.

When she flirted back, he didn’t shoot her down. It was second nature to match his energy. After all, she had been actively trying to flirt with him since they were 12 years old. And while she enjoyed this new energy, it also made her insecure in ways she had never been before.

Jealousy wasn’t a new feeling, but a familiar friend she greeted with a frown every once in a while. But this doubt that had moved into her chest with his first compliment about her looks was novel and frightening.

They had been texting again, talking about their school day when she told him that she had tried out for her school’s cheerleading squad, and he had asked for a picture of her in their uniform. She scrolled through the mirror selfies she had taken that day in the uniform with a big bow holding up her coily hair.

When she had decided on one and sent it, Annabeth threw her phone to the other side of the room. She’d then determined to get a head start on her projects for the week, so she had turned up her music to drown out any thoughts of the son of Poseidon and got to work.

Her concentration had lasted for about 5 minutes before she was scrambling for her phone on the floor, nervous to know if he’d answered. He had.

Gorgeous, he had said.

Nothing more, nothing less. She’d blushed and spent the rest of the night staring at the message, unsure what to reply. In the end, she had ignored it fully and just asked him what his mom was making for dinner.

He never mentioned it again but kept up with the compliments whenever she sent him a picture of herself or sometimes even commented on her posts online.

She had started to like the messages, so he would know she did like them but didn’t know how to react. It had to be enough. Annabeth just couldn’t quite believe he thought that way about her.

Her looks had always been the least interesting and least important part of her. Brains before beauty.

She was no Silena or Drew, and she never before wanted to be. But Percy telling her she was beautiful made her want to be beautiful. She started noticing the other girls in school and how they wore makeup and skirts, while Annabeth usually settled on more practical clothes.

Her roommate had been delighted when Annabeth asked her to take her shopping. They had a rocky start, since Annabeth constantly woke her up with night terrors, but they had grown into peacefully coexisting since then.

The shopping didn’t turn them into friends, but they were more than just acquaintances nowadays, and Annabeth saw potential for a friendship growing when they stole some lacy underwear from Victoria’s Secret together.

She would have to ask her for another trip sometime soon.

Annabeth had also bought her new favorite skirt on that trip. It was long and checkered, and she had leg freedom like never before. She had suddenly understood why Ancient Greek soldiers fought in tunics.

She still had not shown that skirt to Percy, opting to wear baggy jeans and a long-sleeved shirt today.

Of course, her own clothes lay forgotten on his bedroom floor by now, after she had changed into his old washed-out sweatpants and school hoodie.

It would have been a waste to wear that skirt when sick. She would have to remember it next time they hung out when she was feeling better again.

Maybe it would ease that pressure in her chest if he complimented her when she actually put work into her appearance. Compliments were much easier to handle when she’d actually earned them.

Annabeth was ripped out of her thoughts by a loud knock on the front door.

“Dammit, why did I ask for a contactless delivery if they’re going to knock anyways?” Percy grumbled on his way through the living room.

Despite his complaints, he put a big smile on his face, greeted the delivery guy politely, and tipped him generously.

Annabeth was a little confused about what he could have ordered since he told her that he would make soup for dinner. Maybe he didn’t want soup and ordered food for himself.

At once she felt awful again for making him take care of her. He shouldn’t have to cook her food he wouldn’t eat himself.

He disappeared into the kitchen with two brown paper bags, and Annabeth had half a mind to follow him. Just when she made up her mind and turned to put her socked feet on the carpet, he came back to her with a couple of small boxes.

“Okay, this is for your throat, and this should help if you have a fever,” he said, holding the various boxes up.

He picked the one he had indicated for the fever first and got one of the pills out. He gave it to her and reached for her teacup on the coffee table.

“Here, you need to swallow it with some liquid,” he explained, and Annabeth had to suppress rolling her eyes.

Obviously, she knew that. Instead, she did as she was told, grateful for the warm temperature of the tea as it flooded down her pharynx.

“Now the next one you have to suck until it’s gone,” Percy said and held the cough drop up for her to take.

Since she was still sitting on the couch and he was standing, he held it close to her face, and for some reason her brain told her to lean forward and take it from him with her mouth. She was sure he did not want her bacteria-infected spit on his fingers, but he had it now anyway.

Annabeth could feel herself blush and hoped her deep skin tone helped hide it from him. He stared at her mouth for a moment, and it did nothing to help her racing heart. She watched his hand fly up to his neck, rubbing at it nervously.

“I’m going to make you some soup now. I ordered a bunch of stuff, so this will be a bit of experimenting. I hope you’ll like it.”

He turned on his heel before he even finished speaking and practically fled the room. Annabeth let her head fall into her hands.

They needed to stop being so awkward around each other. The flirting over text went great, but both of them constantly started sputtering when they came face to face.

He is your best friend first and foremost, she reminded herself; behave like it.

P e r c y

He kept her mouth in mind when he washed his fingers. He wished he didn’t have to do it, but he did not want to get sick too.

Percy would never admit it aloud, but his first instinct when he felt her lips leave his fingers was to put them to his own mouth, suck them clean, get any and every trace of her on his tongue.

Instead, he let the water take it away and watched as it mixed and sank down the drain. He tried to feel the water, to see if he could tell there were parts of her in there, but it just felt like water from the tap.

He had never worked well with freshwater.

Percy willed his hands dry as he turned to the grocery bags and started fully unpacking them.

Earlier, he had just looked for the medicine he ordered for Annabeth. He had found some stuff in the bathroom cabinet, but nothing seemed to work for her symptoms. It was possible his mother had taken the stuff that did work with her to the cabin in Montauk.

Now he separated the remaining items by what he needed for the soup and what he bought for the rest of the weekend and got to cooking.

He liked cooking and experimenting with new recipes; it gave him a sense of calm. His brain got pleasantly quiet; nothing in there besides what steps to take next, which ingredients to add, and what spices to use.

He prepared a big pot of ramen with an array of vegetables and silken tofu. Percy decided against adding too much chili and instead opted to give her spicy sauce on the side so she could decide herself how much she wanted.

“Betty?” he called, that special nickname only he used.

He started calling her that as a joke one night when they were on FaceTime, half asleep.

Percy had fought with a guy at school that day who had made fun of Percy’s inability to read out loud. He understood that his reading competence was not up to par with his peers, but he also knew it wasn’t his fault. And so did his teachers and classmates.

The guy had just been looking for a fight, and while Percy had learned to control his temper some, he was still his father’s son.

At least he had not thrown hands and had relied on his verbal sparring skills instead. But his mood had been soured for the rest of the day anyway.

He had called Annabeth that night in hopes that her face would cheer him up, and it hadn’t disappointed. When he had been fighting sleep, he’d called her Betty for the first time, and the smile she gave him melted away any bitterness the day had left him with.

He’d done it to get her attention while she was playing sudoku — a ritual she’d developed as part of her night routine.

Percy had wanted to ask her to stay on the phone with him while they fell asleep together. The smile had given him the confidence to pull through, and she had agreed. He had slept a restful, dreamless sleep that night.

Annabeth trotted into the kitchen, the fuzzy blanket they kept on the couch wrapped around her shoulders, like a soft, heavy cape. She looked utterly adorable. Like his oversized clothes weren’t enough to make his heart stutter.

“I’d let you eat on the couch, but I think it’s a bit hard with soup…” he justified making her get up, as he scooped some soup into a big bowl for her.

“Here is just fine,” she replied softly.

Her voice sounded a little better already. She had brought her mug of tea with her, and it was still half full, so he prepared her some filtered water in a new glass.

Only after she had everything she needed did he start on prepping himself a portion. She waited for him to sit down next to her before she started eating. He was conflicted about that.

On one hand, it was very endearing how she tried to be polite; on the other, it was quite troublesome for her to be so stiff around him.

Percy pushed the hot sauce her way.

“In case you need more,” he uttered around a mouth full of noodles.

She gave him one of those sweet smiles; he knew it meant thanks.

Annabeth had a tough time articulating her gratitude. She grew up constantly fearing for her life and finding excuses for her sheer existence.

She was fluent in apologies but choked on the words thank you.

He knew it was the reason it was so hard for her to ask for help. People usually expected a verbalized show of appreciation. Annabeth preferred actions over words.

Percy had grown so attuned to her mannerisms; she didn’t have to say a word for him to know how grateful she was. He returned her smile before digging back into his food.

Percy sent her right back to the couch after she cleared her plate and refused any offers to help with cleaning up. He even threatened to carry her himself at one point, and for a second, it looked like she was considering it.

He thought about what else he could do for her while he tackled the dishes. Maybe a little Snack Board would be nice. What were they called again?

Annabeth had mentioned them once. It was French, he thought. Chakraboard? Something like that. He’d do that.

She also left her empty mug on the table, so he’d make her more tea as well. He wished he had something else to make her more comfortable.

Percy had to remember that she needed to take the paracetamol again before bed.

Which led him to the next issue. Bed. Obviously, she’d take his bed, but he hadn’t changed his sheets in a while, and he wasn’t sure if it was weird for him to do it with her right there.

He also wasn’t looking forward to spending the night on the couch, but it would have to do. He’d love to sleep in the bed with her, cuddle her a little.

Perhaps even kiss her goodnight. But he didn’t think they were there yet. He realized there was some awkwardness whenever he tried to flirt with her when they were together.

It seemed much easier over text — probably because he had more time to think about what he wanted to say and how to phrase it.

Percy went on to prepare her snacks and sneak a small portion of blue candy on the board, too. They could share after all. She would probably feel bad if she thought he did this only for her anyway. Never mind that he was doing it just for her. She didn’t need to know.

When he was satisfied with the presentation, he brought it out to her before going back into the kitchen so he could make her another cup of tea.

He didn’t even look at her when he put the board down, embarrassed by what she would be able to see on his face.

So what if he was down bad for his best friend? She didn’t need to know how deep his feelings ran. Not yet at least.

After the war was over, he’d tell her. Until then, he could bask in her polite compliments and sweet smiles.

Percy brought her the tea, and when he turned to sit down on the couch with her, he got an idea. He wasn’t sure if it would overstep that fragile line between platonic and romantic, and he was stuck just looking down at her for a second.

She was spread out over the length of the cushions with no place for him to sit, and as he hesitated, she seemed to realize that too. Before she could make herself smaller, though, Percy decided that he didn’t want that.

She should be comfortable and feel at home and not like she was taking up space, so before she could move her legs out of the way for him to sit, he grabbed onto them, lifted them so he could sit down, and laid them in his lap.

He gave her calves a small squeeze, so she’d know it was okay for him if it was okay with her too. Annabeth gave him another grateful smile and turned to the TV.

He realized she did choose a documentary, so he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check if his friends had texted him.

He had planned to play some games with them online, and he was certainly late to it already.

They did ask if he would still join them, so he told them that there was a change of plans. He’d love to just send them a picture of Annabeth cuddled up on his couch, but again he was sure that would be crossing a line.

Instead, Percy snapped a quick picture of her legs on his lap, sure she wouldn’t even notice, and sent it to them as an explanation. The reaction was instantaneous. Various messages came flooding in the group chat congratulating him, while Rachel pointed out that that was nothing unusual since Percy and Annabeth were friends.

It should have made him feel better, seeing proof that he was not, in fact, behaving overly weird and romantic, but it soured his mood some.

He frowned down at his phone, unsure what to reply, when Annabeth nudged him with one of her feet.

“Why the long face?” she asked with a smile he couldn’t decipher gracing her lips.

“Oh, just… Rachel said something weird,” he tried to explain.

“You’re sending Rachel pictures of my feet? Jeez, I hope she pays well.”

So, he was caught. Percy didn’t know how to respond to that. His body decided to make the decision for him as he promptly choked on his own spit. Smooth.

Annabeth had one of her eyebrows raised, her smile had turned into something sour-looking, and he hated it. He couldn’t seem to go a single day without upsetting her.

“No, I- uhm… I sent it to our group chat because they wanted to know why I’m not coming online tonight,” he said, hoping some truth would save this situation.

“Oh. With all your friends?”

“Yeah. Is that okay? Sorry I didn’t ask before.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. Sorry to keep you from them,” she said, wringing her hands.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’d rather spend the weekend with you than playing mindless games anyway.”

Okay, maybe a tad too much truth there.

Reel it in, buddy, he told himself.

Annabeth hummed in response before reaching for one of the olives he laid out on the board for her.

“Thank you for the charcuterie board. It’s lovely,” she muttered between chewing, practicing some honesty of her own.

Percy appreciated it. He was also glad he didn’t say anything about the snack plate when he brought it out, now knowing he would’ve completely butchered the name and looked like an idiot to her once more.

“Oh, uhm, you need to take some more meds before you go to sleep later,” he told her, “Thought I’d let you know in case I forget.”

Annabeth nodded, already transfixed by whatever was playing on TV. He realized it wasn’t her usual history documentary but something about a massacre somewhere. That was both interesting and slightly frightening.

He hoped she wasn’t trying to tell him something with that.

A n n a b e t h

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. They watched the true crime documentary she had picked out, and Percy seemed like he was actually enjoying it. She was glad.

When he had pulled out his phone earlier, she was afraid he’d spend the whole night texting his other friends while she tried not to panic.

When he mentioned Rachel, her mood had immediately gone south, but the thought of him showing her off to his whole friend group had improved it again.

Annabeth liked that he was talking about her to them. She wondered what he said when she wasn’t around.

Did he tell them about summer camp? Watered down to be digestible to mortal ears? Did he mention the sleepless nights around bonfires, the way only body heat helped warm them up at night? Tell them about the songs they sung at camp and the celebrations they had? The games they played and how he and Annabeth were always winning when they worked together?

She was so curious about what he said and thought about her.

Did he tell them that he called her beautiful and strong when she sent him after-gym selfies? That they talked on the phone most nights to fall asleep together?

The questions kept piling up when she brushed her teeth to get ready for bed.

Did they know she had a toothbrush in his bathroom that shared a cup with his own? Did they know why the only plushie in his bed was an owl?

She had half a mind to ask him but knew the conversation that followed would be uncomfortable and humiliating.

When she looked in the mirror, she noticed she had made a big mistake. Since she hadn’t planned to stay the night, she didn’t bring her silk bonnet with her.

She was wearing her hair natural at the moment; her next appointment with a braider was over a month in the future.

Even with braids, she preferred to sleep with a bonnet, but it wasn’t really a luxury she could have when they were travelling the country on quests. Now, with her natural hair out and no bonnet to contain it for the night, she knew she’d wake up to a bird’s nest on her head.

Percy had seen her like that before, but it had been years. If only she didn’t toss and turn so much in her sleep.

With a sigh, she turned from the mirror and left the bathroom. Perhaps Sally had some silk scarf she could lend..

“Perce? Does your mom have-“ she stopped in her tracks.

He was sitting on his bed, tearing open a package, some shiny fabric spilling out the sides. He looked up at her with his sea-green eyes, brows scrunched together in question.

“Huh?” he asked, unintelligently.

“What you got there?” she inquired because surely it could not possibly be what she thought it was.

The blush that crept from the tips of his ears down to his cheeks was more than just a little endearing but she really needed to focus. He never made that easy.

“Oh, uhm. I-“ he sputtered, cleared his throat, continued, “I- uhm- I bought this when I got the mug at TJ Maxx. I thought this way you. Uhm. You didn’t have to bring your own. Like the toothbrush.”

Gods. If she wasn’t already head over heels in love with the guy, this would be the moment she fell. Violently. No way back.

Instead of just taking it and thanking him, she went up to him and put her arms around his shoulders.

When he was sitting and she was standing in front of him, they were almost the same height. Percy put his chin onto her shoulder, and she squeezed him hard to her chest.

She remembered how he had kissed her head the last time they had hugged and decided to return the favor, dropping her lips to his hairline and lingering. Butterflies started to flutter in her stomach.

She loved him so much.

Sometimes it felt like it was ripping a hole through her chest, this overbearing need for him. She wasn’t sure where she would be without him in her life; she was terrified to find out.

The war and the great prophecy were sneaking closer every day, and she knew that when he inevitably died this summer, she would probably too. At least the bigger part of her soul would.

She remembered what it was like before he came into her life. She was stronger then, more independent, but oh, so lonely.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she pulled away from him. He saw, because of course he did, but interpreted them to mean she was moved by the gift.

Which she was, of course, but not to tears. He could never know. It would make everything so much harder on him.

“It’s really not a big deal,” he said, reaching to wipe at her face, although the tears hadn’t spilled yet.

“Thank you,” she croaked and cringed at the words. They would never come easy to her.

She was saved from further conversation when a wave of coughs tried to tear her lungs apart, so she turned away from him in order not to shower him in bacteria.

“Have you taken your meds yet, Beth?” Percy asked her then.

Somehow his words lightened the mood. Back to worrying about smaller things. She had to suppress rolling her still-wet eyes.

In a way, it was cute how much he cared and looked after her — it was something she yearned for whenever he was gone.

But it was also deeply distressing to think of how dependent she was on him, reminding her of the dilemma she was in all over again.

What had happened to Annabeth Chase, army of one? Unknowable and completely self-reliant.

Now, as he stood up, he looked at her, through her, read her like a fucking book. Percy raised an eyebrow, his blush gone, replaced by an odd mixture of concern and amusement.

She shook her head, no.

But he was already moving towards her. Annabeth didn’t know when exactly he got the box, but he was already holding it in his left hand. That was probably why he had asked. He had seen that they hadn’t moved from the coffee table in the living room, so he knew she hadn’t taken them yet.

Stupid, observant, beautiful seaweed brain. Gods, how she hated him. How she loved him. The butterflies in her stomach started a slow waltz when his right hand moved to hold her chin.

“Open up,” he said.

While Annabeth had spent her whole life fighting for control, fighting to be seen as the leader she was supposed to be, the whole thing came naturally to Percy. He’d say something, and everyone followed.

A child of the Big Three, and it showed.

Annabeth had no choice but to yield.

So, she opened her mouth and let Percy drop the pill onto her tongue. He tapped her jaw so she’d shut her mouth, while she stared into his face, trying to catch his eyes, but they were focused on her lips.

“Swallow.”

His voice was so low, barely a whisper, but she heard it anyway and, again, had no other choice but to listen.

He reached for the bottle on his nightstand, belatedly remembering she was supposed to chase it with water, and gave it to her. She drank half the bottle, suddenly ravenous with thirst.

He took it away from her before heading towards the door.

“I’ll fill this up for you again; you can get comfy. I’ll take the couch,” he declared before he left.

She didn’t really want to be stuck alone in his bed with only her unraveling thoughts for company, but she wasn’t sure how to tell him that. She took a deep breath, moving to put the bonnet on. Percy had left it on the bed, forgotten, when she had hugged him.

Annabeth got under the covers and waited, noticing how much they smelled like Percy. She took a deep breath, breathing him in. Maybe she’d be able to sleep well after all; even without him in the room, she was surrounded by him.

Percy returned with the water bottle and was now dressed in pajamas himself. He looked so cozy and cute; Annabeth felt like her heart would explode if she looked at him for too long.

When he put the bottle down on his nightstand, her arm moved by itself, shooting out from under the covers and taking hold of his hand.

“Would you fall asleep with me again? Like we do on the phone?” she croaked out.

Percy stared at her for a solid minute before he nodded and crawled under the covers with her. She could feel him hesitating, unsure where to put his hands, so she grabbed them and put them around her waist. They lay back to chest, and she closed her eyes.

She could smell his toothpaste on his breath where it escaped him in nervous puffs on her neck. Her own hummingbird heart fluttered uncontrollably. She understood how he felt.

It was ridiculous that two demigods who have fought real-life monsters time and time again lost their nerve at cuddling.

She suddenly remembered why this wasn’t a good idea.

He’s going to die, Annabeth, she told herself, don’t make this harder for either of you.

“Where are you going?” he whispered into her shoulder.

“I’m not moving?” she said it more like a question than an answer, but the sentiment still stood.

She was very actively not moving, afraid to rub on him weird. There was not even an inch of room between them; he would feel it all.

“In your head, I mean. You’re overthinking. You’re scrunching your ears.”

“My ears?” she questioned, incredulous.

Annabeth was not aware that was something she could even do, consciously or not.

“Yeah, they’re like… twitching,” he clarified, “You always do that when you’re getting lost in your thoughts. Never in a good place, though, I think.”

Percy burrowed his head closer into her neck, and she was scared he’d be able to feel the heat radiating off her face.

“Stop thinking. Sleep,” he mumbled there.

Annabeth could feel his lips move on her throat when he spoke, and the butterflies from earlier returned full force. They’ve changed genres, though, making her stomach a furious mosh pit now.

“Okay,” she whispered in turn.

Percy moved his head again, this time to look down at her face.

“You’ll be okay. This will pass,” he said.

The earnestness in his voice almost killed her. Of course, he thought she was upset about being sick. It was truly the last thing on her mind at this point. Like she could think of anything but him when they were this close.

Yes, her throat was itchy, and she was cold despite the layers of clothes she had put on. Her body felt like it got run over by Cerberus himself.

But her mind was only ever really turning thoughts of him around and round. She squeezed his hand.

Then, as if he read her thoughts, he said: “We’ll be okay, too.”

Percy leaned down and kissed her cheek gently; something he had never done before.

She had kissed his cheek only once, years ago, after they had won the chariot race together. She’d been wanting to do it again ever since but never found the right moment.

Maybe he was right. Maybe they would be okay after all.

She closed her eyes when she felt him settle down fully behind her again; he pressed her close to his chest and nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck again.

“Goodnight, Beth,” he said.