Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Annabeth

Oh my gods. If Annabeth had to deal with the Stolls for one more minute she was going to need a lobotomy. They had seemed to find it exceedingly funny to hide various items of hers for what was now, the fifth time, this week. Their moronic attempts to find her architecture book, which they had apparently now lost, was pushing Annabeth to the brink of hysteria. And although dim-witted pranks were quite literally the least of her problems, this fact did not contain her from threatening to see the both of them to the lava wall.

Aside from Travis’s protesting however, her problems listed as such: an oncoming migraine, Percy, her copious summer math homework, the concerning lack of news from Grover, and once again Perseus Jackson. The latest argument with Poseidon's son still rattled in her brain as she watched Connor ransack the Hermes cabin for her missing textbooks. It had, once again been on the subject of Luke Castellan-oh yeah, add him to that list.

“Annabeth I can't talk to you about this right now I-I have to go.”

“Oh, right of course. Gods I mean you’re never even here what makes you think you have a say in this?!?!”

“Because I SAW him Annabeth. I was THERE remember?!”

“Yeah well so was I Percy. What do you not trust me?!-is that was this is about-because if we’re talking about trust then we should talk about HER I mean-”

“YEAH, maybe I DONT trust you on this one, OK. Maybe because Luke-or should I say Kronos-is a fucking creep who's just gonna keep hurting you and-”

“You don't know Luke like I do.”

“-and you can't save him Annabeth”

“.....”

“...I think you need to leave now”

“Annabeth-”

“Goodbye Percy”

And then he’d left. Driving off towards New York and whatever redhaired-girl dreams he had back there. Leaving Annabeth to her current-unfortunate-circumstances. Watching the Stoll's pathetic-asses rummage through their bombsite of a cabin, praying to the gods to catch ONE break, when the door swung open behind her.

Beckendorf stood in the door frame, a weary look plastered across his face. The twins' necks craned around like two meerkats-intrigued at the unexpected visit. He was still in blacksmith’s uniform, a work belt wrapped around his torso, safety goggles fastened to his forehead and soot smeared on his nose.

“what's-up Beckendorf?” Connor questioned “need us for something?" Travis nodded eagerly.

She glared at them. Then turned back to Beckendorf who had obviously ignored their attempt for escape and was looking at her.

“Annabeth. Chiron is asking for you, something about scouting...” he trailed off, clearly reciting some word-of-mouth off Silena.

“Gods okay” She pointed at the stolls “you better have found those books when I get back”

She followed Beckendorf out the door and the stolls whining faded into the camp’s buzz.

-

Just when you think your days reached its full potential your sat across a ping-pong table with a horse and the boy you were definitely not prepared to deal with today.

None other than Percy Jackson had been waiting beside Chiron when she had entered the big house. His eyebrows were knitted together in the expression he always wore when he was worried; his mouth was twisted in perplexion.

At her arrival, he started. His eyes full of something she couldn't quite place. Blood pounded in her head and her ears rung, though she couldn't really tell you why.

“Ah, Annabeth, perfect” Chiron remarked “take a seat”

She slumped into a beanbag eyes still fixed on Percy. Why on earth was he back so early? He wasn't meant to be back until.... well, until the Princess Andromeda mission. She pushed that thought firmly aside and turned her focus to Chiron.

“You must be wondering why I have brought you here my dear.”

“You could say that” Annabeth replied. She had already considered a million different possibilities.

“Well you see Percy here-” he gestured to his left “-has prematurely returned to camp to inform me that there is word of a meeting, members of Lu-Kronos's army, and suggested a scouting mission. Of course, any information is useful at this stage, especially concerning our oncoming assault on the ship and I knew you two would be perfect for the job. After all, you have always worked so well together.”

Percy shifted uncomfortably; she winced. Ever since the events of Mount St. Helens, herself and Percy had become an unpredictable whirlwind that the rest of camp often gave a wide birth-even she could see that. Apparently however, Chiron could not.

She sighed, “Well where is this alleged “meeting” then”

“I caught wind of something by the docks back at home, some demigods and empousai talking about some kind of conference in the warehouses by pier 89’.” Percy spoke for the first time. Annabeth narrowed her eyes.

“Why were you at the docks?”

“Uh I was with a friend of mine” he said glancing away guiltily, which only confirmed her suspicions.

He had been with Rachel. Her all-too hypnotic face had haunted Annabeth's dreams more than she cared to admit these past few weeks; she was usually enwrapped in Percy’s arms-she was not quite sure why the idea was so nightmarish. She pinched the bridge of her nose and nose and forced herself to focus, before turning back to Chiron.

“When do we leave?”

-

Pack your bags. Argus will drive you, be ready at first light. A sudden recon mission being thrust upon her-not to mention with the boy she could barely exchange ten words with without disagreeing-was certainly not doing Annabeth any favours in the stress department. Nonetheless, as the sun fell behind Half-Blood Hill, Percy and her had left the Big House. With a fleeting “see you in the morning” he’d stumbled off towards his cabin, leaving her at the porch. He looked so much taller. she closed her eyes, leaning back against the banister before continuing her miserable contemplation of the sky.

This was a bad idea.

Chapter Text

Percy

Waking up at the crack of dawn-let's just say-not Percy's forte. He'd somehow still managed to be late despite setting his alarm for the dismal hour of 5am. Barely running a hand through his bed-hair, He’d grabbed his sloppily packed rucksack, snatched Riptide from his bedside table and ran out the door.

When he had reached the top of the hill, out of breath and panting, Annabeth had been severely unimpressed.

“Your late.” she said grabbing him by the arm “Argus is waiting!” and leaving him with no chance of protest, practically dragged him to the car.

He murmured some apology to Argus and slumped in the backseat next to Annabeth, who had turned away from him and was determinedly staring out the window. Argus started the car. In Percy's defense, he hadn't meant to drag her into this. When he had suggested a recon mission to Chiron, he wasn’t exactly expecting him to pair Percy with the girl that hated him more and more by the day, unfortunately however, just his luck. It’s not that he didn’t want to be with Annabeth but these days they always wound-up storming at each other whenever they spoke-usually over Luke, the sick bastard.

Suddenly, Percy was hyper-aware of Argus’s many eyes on him; looking knowingly between him and Annabeth, to which he frowned and followed Annabeth’s lead by glaring out the car window. She cleared her throat.

“So what time is this “conference” today then?” she asked unenthusiastically.

“What?”

“The meeting. Percy. The reason we’re on this mission?”

“Well yes, I know that. But Wise-Girl you know it’s not today, right?” he replied, the nickname slipping off his tongue unwillingly.

Annabeth cocked her head slightly and scrunched her nose in confusion. Heat rose up the back of his neck. He knew what she was doing, trying to get inside his head, her big grey eyes gazed intensely at him. It made Percy nervous.

“Didn’t Chiron tell you?” he ventured “We’re staying at my mums tonight.” his voice cracked a little.

“No, Chiron most certainly did not tell me" Annabeth sounded almost panicky. Which was unlike her. “Are you sure your Mum doesn’t mind?”

“Of course, my Mum loves you, actually I think she’ll be happier to see you than me.”

This won a small smile which, especially these days, was a victory as any in Percy's books.

-

The rest of the ride however, was practically silent. He almost let out an audible sigh of relief when Argus finally wound into the city. They had been sat for far too long in Percy's humble opinion. After a brief exchange of goodbyes, and a flurry of winks from half his many eyes-when Percy had opened the door for Annabeth-Argus left. Which meant him and Annabeth were alone together for the first time in months.

“Soo....” he said in a desperate attempt to break the silence.

“So” she replied

“We’ve got some time to kill I guess”

“You’re right. What in Hades are we supposed to do now? What was the point of getting here so early?”

“Uhhhhh. Good question. That is a great question. Uhm.” yeah nice one Percy real genius.

“Gods seaweed brain” clearly Annabeth was having similar thoughts. However, the return of the old-nickname was no help whatsoever in clearing his thoughts.

He ran a hand through his hair.

“Food!” he said finally “lunch, let's get lunch.” Annabeth chuckled a little in spite of herself.

“Percy it’s 7am”

“Breakfast then. This is New York, remember?”

“Fine.” she agreed, he could tell she was struggling to stay annoyed at him. For now.

-

Soon enough they found an all-day breakfast on 8th avenue, one him and Rachel had gone to a week or so before. The food had been great and it was relatively inexpensive. He looked to Annabeth who gave him small nod before swinging open the door. They sat in a booth beside the window, which was stain-glass and cast a kaleidoscope of colours down on them. A slither of pink fell across Annabeth’s face. He’d nearly forgotten how beautiful she’d gotten.

Nearly.

The waiter arrived.

“Order?” she asked Percy in a thick New York accent.

“The blueberry pancakes please”

“One berry-pancakes...and for your date?” she turned to Annabeth. Percy choked a little. Annabeth turned crimson.

“Oh no-I mean she’s not-were not-” he spluttered.

“-Just friends” Annabeth managed “uh and I’ll take...just a coffee-thanks." she said clearly just as disconcerted as him.

“Of course, my apologies” the waiter said. Although before she disappeared behind the counter, he could have sworn she winked a him. Gods was he getting sick of everyone doing that.

An awkward tension was left between the two now. Percy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and tried his best not to stare at the girl before him, with little success. The pink light across her face had spread in the morning sun; it illuminated each freckle that fell along her nose, and the scar through her lip.

It was never easy, leaving. But then again it also wasn’t easy preparing for war with the “great prophecy” looming over him. He cast that thought aside.

The waitress brought over their food-which broke Percy from his thoughts. Annabeth seemed to relax a little as they ate. She explained how the Stoll brothers had been tormenting her for weeks and how Katie and Travis had been spending a little-more-time-than-usual together, apparently the whole camp was already placing bets. The conversation was actually going fairly smoothly until Percy decided to open his fat mouth.

Annabeth was admiring the building opposite.

“I mean the architecture is so intricate compared to the rest of the street”

“Yeah. You know, it's funny you should say that actually because Rachel was saying the exact same thing when we were here...” he trailed off, immediately realising his mistake. Shit.

At the mention of ‘Rachel’ Annabeth's face had darkened. She avoided my eye, glaring down at her unfinished parfait.

“You didn’t say that you had come here with her” she said quietly.

“Annabeth-”

“I’m going to the bathroom. Pay the bill, we should get going. Chiron gave you the money, right?” she asked coldly and without waiting for a reply, dashed towards the toilet.

Gods he was an idiot.

-

After a very long, very painful, few hours of walking around the city in silence, they eventually killed enough time to head to his. The city was growing busier; the night was falling and the sky was tainted with tangerine from the light of the billboards, a typical summer night in NYC.

Annabeth was keeping up as he weaved through the city crowds. She didn’t break a smile a single time when he frequently glanced back.

As they reached his Mum’s apartment, climbing up the endless staircase-in even more silence, Percy thought of the last time him and Annabeth had paid a visit. They’d fought that time too. Annabeth stopped him at door.

“Wait Percy”

He looked back at her.

“Are you sure this is okay I mean like; your mum probably has a lot going are you sure she-”

“Annabeth.”

“I mean I doubt she wants two teenagers in the house-”

“Annabeth it’s fine. I promise, okay, she loves you.”

She nearly smiled. But then she seemed to remember she was mad at him and simply nodded.

He unlocked the door.

His mum flew at him with a hug, cupping his face in her hands and grinning at him, even remarking that he looked “taller” despite being gone for barely a day. Annabeth stood wearily beside him until she was ambushed by his mums fussing aswell, his mum ranting about how gorgeous Annabeth was. He agreed. Though he didn't voice that.

The next hour or so he spent devouring fresh homemade cookies-blue obviously. Typical hospitality from Sally Jackson. While she spent the rest of the night gushing over Annabeth and insisting profusely that she call her “Sally dear” not Ms Jackson.

Soon enough however, they were left alone in his room. Only accompanied by a gradually deflating air mattress.

Percy's room was plastered with various skate posters, a few swimming medals were draped over his bed post, and a corkboard hung above the desk-stabbed with pictures of former summers. Annabeth gazed at one in particular, taken by Silena a few months ago-just before the labyrinth. Annabeth did a ridiculous pose on his back and he’d grinned for the camera; they were both cladded in armour, messing around before capture-the-flag. They'd been laughing.

Annabeth cleared her throat.

“Percy, I need to get changed.”

He said something real smooth like “Uh yeah-uh-?”

“Turn around.” she muttered, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Yeah-yeah, sorry of course-obviously"

He shuffled around and faced the wall, a heat growing along the nape of his neck. He could sense her presence behind him-the gentle rustling of her jacket, and the sudden thump of clothing on ground-which caused his imagination to wander places it definitely shouldn't have .

She cleared her throat again, which interrupted his thoughts, probably for the better.

When he turned, she was sat cross legged on the pathetic camp bed. Her eyes gleamed up at him in the city-light peeking through the window. Gods this girl. How in Hades was she a guest in his house, looking so effortlessly breathtaking in pyjamas of all things, and she seriously expected him to make her sleep on the floor.

“What?” she demanded, in response to his incredulous expression.

“You not sleeping on the floor Annabeth.”

“Why not? It's your room?”

“Yeah exactly! You’re the guest-”

“So?” she glared at him “I’m perfectly capable sleeping of sleeping on the-”

“AND not to mention my mum would murder me in cold blood if I let you” he finished, glaring right back at her.

They stayed like that for a minute. Both locked in a determined staring contest. Until finally, Annabeth relented. Percy watched triumphantly as she clambered into his bed, pulled his sheets to her chin with a huff, and scowled at the ceiling.

Following suit, after throwing a random pair of pyjama pants on and tugging his shirt off in the bathroom, he flopped down onto his sorrow excuse for a mattress and waited for sleep to come.

It did not.

Unfortunately for Percy, his ADHD brain wasn’t keen on the idea of sleep the night before a danger-packed quest (how inconsiderate he knows!). So, after at least half an hour of restless tossing and turning-he gave up. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair ; Annabeth was breathing slowly, in and out, beside him. The sound dulled his thoughts a bit, and the frame of her silhouette burned into his vision each time he blinked.

He blinked once more and found her grey eyes blinking back.

He started a little, of course she was awake, “Gods, don’t do that.”

She paused a little before replying.

“Percy come up here.”

“What?” maybe he had fallen to sleep after all-Percy was sure he was dreaming.

“Your never gonna get any sleep down there and we have an important mission tomorrow so you should really just come up here” she said-all very fast.

He frowned “Annabeth I'm not sure if that's the best idea-”

“Percy it’s fine, really. Plus, I'd much rather this than you dying in battle from sleep deprivation.”

Silence.

“Okay-okay you’re right” he agreed, though in reality he was too exhausted to suggest anything else.

He stood up and climbed across the bed, accidently hovering over Annabeth for several seconds longer than needed. Their noses were centimetres apart-so close Percy could feel the bat of her eyelashes. She blushed.

“Sorry” he muttered hastily, before rolling over and falling back against the pillow beside her. The gentle sound of her breathing faded as he fell into drowsiness.

Chapter Text

Annabeth

An arm was curled around Annabeth’s waist. She buried her face into his neck, the familiar ocean smell enwrapping her. Her brain hovered in the Twighlight zone between sleep and awake. The faint sound of the restless city swam in and out of her consciousness-but the dull “thump-thump” of his heartbeat burned in the forefront of Annabeth’s mind. She felt him stir beneath her. Lifting her head, she met his eyes, so close their noses were grazing. He gazed back at her through his eyelashes, sea green swallowed her vision.

“Hey wise-girl" he murmured sleepily.

“Hey seaweed-brain" she whispered back, the words leaving a warm tingle on her tongue. She nestled back into his bare chest.

Wait, his chest...

Percy’s chest...

Annabeth’s eye’s widened- the realisation flooding over her like a tidal wave. Percy froze against her.

“Oh gods-!” they jumped in unison, frantically trying to untangle themselves.

There came a laugh from behind them as Sally passed the doorway. She stifled a giggle watching Annabeth and Percy fighting to escape the twisted covers. Annabeth spat the hair out her mouth and opened it in attempt to explain-but Sally just turned back towards the kitchen.

“Breakfast is ready!” she called chuckling at their unfortunate situation.

Behind her, Percy thumped to the floor. (he had lost his fight against the duvet).

-

Percy had apoligised profusely for the incident and soon enough, they were out the apartment and back into the city. It hadn't taken them long to find the pier-Percy knew this coastline all too well.

As they walked, in a relatively awkward silence, Annabeth couldn’t help but remember Percy’s words back in the big house. He had been with a ‘friend’ of his. Well, she knew what that meant.

He had been with Rachel. Perfect, normal, mortal, Rachel. She was everything Annabeth wasn’t. Easy and outgoing, gorgeous too. In spite of herself Annabeth found she didn't even hate her. She had no reason to really, but that couldn't help the red-hot ache that filled her chest each time she saw her.

Percy came to a halt beside her, breaking the stream of plaguing thoughts.

She turned to him “Is this it? Is it here?”

“Yes ma’am”

She snorted a little. He grinned sheepishly back.

“Okay so I guess now we just wait”

“mhm”

-

They had been waiting for maybe twenty minutes when they heard voices approaching.

It was then when Annabeth realised her crucial mistake.

They were in broad view, no cover to be found in close enough range. The voices were growing closer, and she could make out enough to tell-

“demigods” Annabeth mouthed at him, he nodded.

“there's nowhere to hide!” she whispered frantically.

Percys eyes flashed in sudden alarm, realising she was right.

To their left, dead end; to their right rapidly approaching hoard of angry demigods and-or monsters. Their surroundings were barren, no crate or trolley to crouch behind.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

How had she not realised? She had been too caught up in her dwellings to make a plan. The one thing she was always counted on for.

She was frozen in place, paralysed even, awaiting their certain doom when-

Annabeth had an idea. A dangerous idea, the last thing she should be doing, but an idea none the less.

She looked back at Percy again, straight into his eyes, those sea-green eyes that would haunt her until her until her dying day. Looking into them somehow always made her feel as if she was drowning, plummeting into deep, deep waters. Her mind flooded with memories of that morning, the warmth of him, the comfort.

Gods she was screwed.

“Percy kiss me.”

If their situation wasn’t so dire Annabeth thought she would have laughed out loud at the look on his face.

Percy’s jaw fell wide open. His eyebrows were raised so high that they had almost disappeared in his mess of hair.

“Uh-duh-I mean...what?!” he managed to splutter out, after remaining speechless for several seconds.

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

“So-”

“-so kiss me, they won't recognise us”

“I mean-are you sure?”

She grabbed his jaw, her fingers furling through his hair.

“do it.”

He gave her one last look, a silent reassurance that this was okay. Annabeth melted a little at the plea in his eyes, before giving him the slightest nod.

Then he kissed her. Her teeth clacked against his in the haste of it; she felt his fingers ghost her waist and pulled them firmly against herself. This had to be believable (at least, that was what Annabeth told herself).

It was nothing like the kiss in the volcano.

Their kiss in mt. St-Helens had been one of fleeting-goodbyes and hopeless ‘Goodluck’. But this time here was no excusing her furious flush for the extreme heat.

Although the logical side of her brain insisted that it was just an act, every inch of Annabeth's body screamed in reaction to Percy’s lips, Percys hands, Percys eyes, Percys hair. Percy. Percy. Percy everywhere.

Gods if only he had kissed her back the first time.

His lips tasted like sea-salt against hers-each and every time she pulled back slightly, they stung with the momentary loss. One of his hands fumbled through her hair, tugging slightly on each curl; the other rested gently, hesitantly, at her waist, but almost subconsciously she could feel Percy pull her even closer. She traced his jaw with her thumb, relishing in the excuse to touch him-to hold him. Their noses brushed in the close proximity and Annabeth shifted. Percy let out the smallest noise from the back of his throat at this, which caused her stomach to do a full somersault. He was painfully careful, although there was a certain sense of mutual desperation, fervent longing.

Was he really just acting?

Annabeth’s brain had turned entirely to mush. She felt as if she had taken a large dose of ambrosia, warmth rushing to her head like red-wine, tinging her neck and cheeks scarlet. Faintly, she registered the demigods pass by.

After a few seconds, or hours, or maybe even several sunlit days, (Annabeth couldn’t have told you), they broke apart. Both were panting a little.

There was a deafening stretch of silence. For the first time in her life, she felt entirely tongue tied. And then-

“Annabeth.” Percy breathed, enunciating each syllable like a prayer, like he worshipped her. He glanced, for a fraction of a second, at her now swollen lip. Maybe she was imagining it but she could’ve sworn she saw the faintest trace of a smirk playing on his mouth-but-in an instant, it was gone.

Focus.

She avoided his eye, looking firmly back at the grey, grey, pavement. She couldn't be doing this, not now.

She turned away.

“Come on, we have to follow them”

Chapter Text

“Annabeth--wait up!”

Percy’s mind was reeling. The feel of her lips were still etched on his; the lingering taste of her lipbalm, strawberry-flavoured; the flushed crimson colour hers had taken in the swell.

He prides himself a little for that one.

It had been a brilliant idea, he had to admit. Of course it had been, he mentally dismissed—this was Annabeth. However currently her brilliance had never been more disappointing. Because that was the problem, wasn't it?

The moment, their kiss--it had all been a ruse, an act, a diversion.

The soft noise she made when he hesitantly gripped her hip—the one that caused a mosh-pit of butterflies in his stomach; the aching, longing sensation that tugged at his chest each time she’d momentarily pulled away; the reality of a situation Percy had dreamt of more than he cared to admit...

But they were just acting, right?

Well fuck, he hadn’t been.

Percy raced after her, as always, because double-fuck he’d follow her anywhere. And when he finally managed to catch her wrist and he was met with a flustered glare.

“What?!”

She whirled around to face him, cheeks-tinged with a slight pink, nose adorably scrunched.

Not helping.

“Annabeth...” Percy said, as it was the only thing hurling through his mind.

She blinked up at him expectantly—but unfortunately the image of her staring at him through her lashes, with a persistently swollen lip, was entirely more distracting.

He squeezed his eyes shut. For god's sake Percy say something.

Looking back into her eyes again, that hypnotic grey-blue that always made him feel as if he was drowning, son of Poseidon or not.

Percy was constantly and unconditionally suffocating in Annabeth.

Ignoring the block in his throat, he finally found the courage—probably more like desperation—and spoke.

“You just, I mean we just ki—”

A loud clanging noise sounded from behind Annabeth. In an instant Percy was instinctively in front of her, riptide unsheathed.

Standing before him were two of Luke’s monster-henchman.

-

As if performing a rehearsed duet, him and Annabeth burst into action.

He felt her pull out her dagger beside him, immediately moving to her usual defensive stance, complimenting his offensive.

On their left, a cyclops.

On their right, a dracaena.

Lightwork.

He lunged for the cyclops, forcing the eerie image of Tyson out of his mind. Annabeth lunged for the dracaena—no need for discussion.

Annabeth may not fear Tyson any longer, but he could almost feel the anxiety dripping off her at the sight of the 10ft monstrosity confronting them.

He could bite the bullet for her.

Cyclopes may be brute, but they are as thick as a door. All it took Percy was a couple faints and a swift jab in the gut to have a pile of dust for an opponent.

He rounded on the dracaena, which in all honesty Annabeth had been holding at bay perfectly fine by herself.

Her curls were tousled and messy from weaving in and out of harm's way. Her face and clothes were splattered entirely with monster-blood, as if she had had been in a rather violent match of paintball.

Percy thought she looked like a warrior-princess, from a comic his mum had read him as a kid, all fierce and elegant at the same time.

For a moment he was completely starstruck.

Percy wasn't sure what had changed in his head since their kiss, but he knew for certain something was messing with his brain-chemistry.

Someone.

It's not like he hadn't been fascinated with her before. Hades she had been his muse since he was twelve, but something had shifted in the passing hours.

Waking up with her nestled in his arms—her legs entwined with his like the last piece of a puzzle, the smitten look on her face—that he must have imagined—as she woke up rubbing sleep from her eyes.

It was messing with his head.

So much so that he was entirely distracted when said dracanae lunged for his chest.

-

“you okay?” Percy panted, gripping the railing for balance.

He checked her over. Eyes raking across her body to make sure she had seen no harm.

“Yeah, I'm fine jus—Percy, youre bleeding-!”

“Oh, what this—ha, thats nothn..” he said, attempting to wave away her comment but stumbling despite himself.

In an instant Annabeth was holding him, her hands cupping his face and turning his jaw to confirm he hadn’t sustained any other injuries. Percy felt lightheaded, but he wasn't sure if it was due to blood loss, or because of the girl before him.

Her hair was still dishevelled from the fight, and her face was spattered sporadically with monster blood but—strike him down—Percy had never seen a goddess that rivalled her loveliness.

“S’ fine Beth—” he slurred, slumping further down the wall.

“You are such a dick” she choked in response, eyes glistening as she reached over him to retrieve the nectar from his backpack.

Bleeding-out was nothing compared to the stab in his chest as he looked at her crumpled face. It was entirely unfair, that she looked so mesmerising while breaking his heart. Her eyes sparkling with unrestrained anguish, but sparkling, nonetheless.

He felt her breath on his neck as she rummaged through his bag, the phantom of many dreams of her hot mouth against his collarbone. The memory of which burned bright in Percy’s mind—despite the fog.

Annabeth shifted then so he could see her face once more, nectar in hand. Her face a mask of glassy tears.

She leaned over him again—leaned into him, again. It took Percy every ounce of self-restraint to not react as he had the last time she was pressed against him, against the wall. Her hands in his hair; her godforsaken strawberry-lipbalm lingering on his tongue; her muffled noises against his lips that had replayed continuously in his mind since, like a buffering cd.

He gazed at her, still, as she broke off a piece of nectar—as if he needed medicine when she was right there. Percy would never forget the intensity of those eyes.

“Here” she whispered, placing the piece tenderly in his parted mouth.

The unmistakable taste of strawberries coated his throat. Strawberry lipbalm.

He relished in the salvation of her touch, her scent, her care. It was as if she had put him entirely under her spell—no fuck it, he was definitely hypnotised.

Hypnotised, as he unblinkingly stared at her. Hypnotised, as he lent closer.

Hypnotised, as he felt Annabeth press her forehead against his own—gently, but firmly.

She was still panting slightly, so close Percy could feel the warmth of her breath against his mouth. Looking up at one another through their eyelashes, Annabeth's slick with sorrow. He was paralysed by her, not only because of her vice-grip on his nape, but because she was simply in front of him and alive, alive—alive. It was as if she was an oasis in a barren desert, and he was a man dying of thirst; unable to look away for fear she was a mirage, a trick of the light.

In his hazed state, he allowed himself another glance at her lips, something he would hold better self-restraint over if sober. She was unnervingly addictive, so much so that Percy who had always despised such things, decided from then on out she was his drug of choice. His poison.

So much so that when he watched her lips tremble as she choked back a sob, he thought he might OD right there on the spot.

She was seemingly overcome with emotion, still grasping onto him, as if he would ever willingly fall from her touch.

Something was consuming Annabeth and consequently Percy was swallowed with her sorrow as he grazed her nose with his own.

He was unable to speak—too lost in her to even function. When he felt one of her tears drop onto his own cheek, as her tears spilled once again, he wasn't sure if her could bare it.

Suddenly, whatever it was that burdened Annabeth seemed to burst out all at once. Before he even knew it, she crawled from her kneeling position between his sprawled-out legs and into his lap.

Her face buried into his blood-stained chest—sobs wracking her body as her arms and legs wrapped tightly around his slumped body.

Annabeth crumbled entirely in his against him.

Ignoring his exhaustion Percy pulled his fatigued arms around her, still unable to use his words to console her—tongue tied. Every inch of his body screamed to rid her of this pain—to comfort her, to protect her.

But there were no monsters here left to fight. He couldn't take away this suffering with a sword.

She curled into him tighter still.

Slowly, painstakingly and with great effort, he cradled the back of her head with one beaten and callused hand.

He stroked her hair as she continued to weep in his arms, each sob that shook her frame stinging tenfold more than his healing wound.

Annabeth was his wound.

“shh, shhh—s' okay, I'm here” he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and cracked with tiredness.

Annabeth raised her head to face him; fuck he had never seen her so excruciatingly undone. And still, she was the most breathtaking sight he had ever witnessed, even with her features twisted and contorted, her eyebrows knit with some unknown tragedy.

Percy had never seen her grey eyes look so blue.

He had thought that no sound could injure him more than her sobs, but the moment she spoke, so weakly and desperately—so unlike Annabeth as he knew her, he was proven wrong.

“Please don’t leave me” she whispered.

Gods, Percy could kick himself.

Thats what this was about? He was scaring her, fuck he hated himself for it.

All because of a stupid amateur mistake.

All because he had let himself be distracted by her.

He lent forward and pressed his forehead determinedly against hers. The sensation of her breath in his own mouth took over him once again, like the only true oxygen he had ever absorbed.

Though broken and low, he had never spoken with such sincerity.

“I could never leave you, Annabeth” he whispered her name, a prayer. “I could never leave you, ever” Percy repeated “I will always be at your side...”

He broke off, his chest burning like molten iron, when he felt her sodden face bury into his neck once more.

Somehow, something he had said had ridden Annabeth even more distraught than before.

And all Percy could do as they lay there, an entwined corpse of despair, was hold her, as the NYC white noise faded into black.