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SEPTEMBER, BEFORE
The library quickly became their go-to date spot. Annabeth usually wanted to pick up or drop off a book, and it was a good place to study and spend time together without having to buy anything or deal with stink-eye from adults.
They tried to work on their homework together, but usually wound up spending the hours talking just softly enough not to draw attention from a librarian. Every time Annabeth returned to her reading, Percy got distracted from his, looking at her in soft adoration, almost disbelief.
They’d been dating only for a few weeks. It felt like it had been ages, but also like no time at all. Everything about her was so familiar to him and simultaneously new in ways that made the entire world feel surreal, dream-like.
The war was over. No prophecy was hanging suspended over his neck. Annabeth absently twisted a piece of hair, focused on the book in front of her. The taste of the chai she had made and brought for him lingered on his tongue. His parents would greet them with a home-cooked meal and warm conversation later. Annabeth’s knee touched his under the table as if it couldn’t be helped, even though she had plenty of space to move.
He couldn’t believe he got to have this, that they got to have this. They got to be at peace and giddy and close to each other.
Annabeth looked up at him as if she had physically felt his gaze. “What?” she said, laughing quietly.
“Nothing!” he said, pretending to go back to his book, but he couldn’t fight off a smile.
“No, tell me. What are you looking at me like that for?” she said, poking him with the cap of her pen.
He smirked. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes!” she said. “Spill!”
“Okay,” he said, “I was just thinking how beautiful you are—”
Annabeth flushed and covered her face. “No, okay, stop, I take it back—”
“And how lucky I am, and how you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to—”
“Shhh! Stop that, oh my gods—” She laid her forehead on the table, laughing.
“You asked,” Percy said innocently.
“All right,” she conceded. “Fine. I will allow the record to reflect your statements.” Her face still flaming, she reached for his hand, and they returned to studying with goofy grins that hurt their cheeks.
The worst was over, and they had their whole lives ahead of them.
Happy .
SEPTEMBER, AFTER
“First day back!” Paul said, sitting across from Percy with his coffee. “Excited? Nervous?”
Percy played with the spoon in his cereal. “I guess I should be used to new schools by now.”
“I think it’s understandable to be stressed,” Paul said. “You’ve had a tough year.”
“I guess,” Percy said, staring at his bowl. He swallowed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t go back to Goode. After all the work you put in for me to get in in the first place. And all you did to try to get them to take me back.”
Paul waved that away. “It’s still Goode’s loss,” he said. “And that’s what I told the administrators.”
“I mean, I did skip a whole semester.”
“It would have helped if we could have fully explained things,” Paul conceded. “But you’re going to finish high school, and that’s what’s important.” He smiled at his stepson.
Percy nodded. He wished he could feel the same enthusiasm about it. School had never been his strong suit, and now he’d missed months of instruction and was attending a new school. An alternative school, even—no doubt all the teachers would be ready to write him off as a delinquent and a troublemaker. That would be familiar, at least…
“Proud of you, kid,” Paul said, standing.
Percy forced a smile. “Thanks, Paul.”
“Is Annabeth coming over later?”
“That’s the plan,” Percy said. Her classes had started a few weeks earlier than his, and she had been faring better so far. She had thrown herself into her design classes and had quickly reconnected with her friends from the previous year.
He was glad she was doing well. And maybe if she could fit back into mortal life after all they’d been through, he could do it too?
Sally came into the kitchen, holding Percy’s backpack. “Percy, you haven’t left yet? You’re going to be late!”
Percy jumped up, took the bag, and pecked his mom on the cheek. “Sorry! Going now.” He tried to leave quickly—he wasn’t sure he’d be able to withstand a pep talk from his mom without crying or something—but Sally caught him and gave him a tight hug.
“Good luck, sweetheart,” she said. “You’re going to do great.”
He managed a half-shrug, half-nod and ran out the door.
OCTOBER, BEFORE
It was a brisk day and the trees were changing. Annabeth smiled as Percy grabbed her hand while they walked in the park. She pulled it to her lips and kissed it while he chattered about a new band he’d started listening to.
Any shyness that had come with the start of their relationship seemed to have dissolved. It was Saturday, the weather was perfect, and they had the entire afternoon.
“Halloween is coming up,” Annabeth commented when they passed a flyer for a headless horseman hayride. “Are there any pumpkin patches around here?”
“In the city?” Percy asked, grinning.
“Well, I meant close to the city,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes at him, “but it was just a thought.”
“We could probably make a trip,” Percy said.
“Nah,” Annabeth said. “I think we could just get pumpkins at the grocery store, if you wanted.”
“Pumpkin carving would be fun,” Percy said.
She beamed at him. “Okay! Let’s do it,” she said. “Hope you’re ready to get your ass kicked.”
Percy laughed. “Wait, when did this become a competition?”
Annabeth hesitated. “Oh, well, we always had a pumpkin carving contest at camp,” she said. “Almost everybody was gone for the school year, and it was kind of a downer sometimes. But Mr. D can make pumpkins grow—they’re vine plants. It got pretty serious.”
“No trick-or-treating?” Percy joked.
“I didn’t even trick-or-treat before I went to camp,” Annabeth said, shrugging. “Wasn’t really a priority for my dad.”
She made sure to keep her voice even, but she felt Percy’s concerned eyes on her. “You know, we’re still kids,” he said. “We can trick-or-treat if we want to.”
Annabeth laughed. “Oh, come on.”
“No, I’m serious!” he said. “We should do it. We can dress up and go around my building.”
She looked at him skeptically. “Do teenagers do that, usually?”
“Who cares?” Percy said. “Let’s do it. It’ll be fun.”
A grin took over her face. “All right. Deal. We better start planning costumes, then.”
“I’ll be ketchup, you be mustard,” he suggested.
She scoffed. “No way, Seaweed Brain. If we’re doing this, we’re going all-out.”
OCTOBER, AFTER
Percy didn’t realize he was scowling until Annabeth spoke.
“You okay?”
He looked up from his notes, startled. “Yeah.” He stretched out his arms, trying to get rid of the tension in his limbs. “Just not getting anywhere.”
Annabeth grimaced sympathetically. Her own homework was scattered in front of her on the Jacksons’ dining table—some kind of architectural design that he couldn’t make head or tail of, but that she seemed to be excited about. At least, she’d barely looked up from it in hours.
“Take a break,” she suggested. “Come back with fresh eyes later.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. It was hard to take breaks when he hardly felt like he had made any progress. And it was hard not to notice that Annabeth never seemed to need breaks. He rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth out the furrow between his brows.
“Hey,” she said, closing her book. “I was thinking about costumes for Dave’s Halloween party.”
Percy winced. “Oh. Right.” The idea of showing his face at a party was hard to feel excited about.
“We don’t have to dress up, but I think most people will.” Annabeth said. She studied him. “You okay?”
Percy was trying not to think about that question. “I’m fine,” he said.
Annabeth still looked troubled, and Percy’s heart twisted with guilt.
He knew he was a drag. He knew he was a disappointment. He knew he was stupid. He knew she was watching him, half-expecting him to blow up like he had in Tartarus. How couldn’t she? Shame rolled over him like a wave. He turned his body away from her at the table, wishing he could duck out of her scrutinizing gaze.
“You know,” Annabeth said. “We could just do our own thing on Friday. Watch some scary movies or something.”
A fresh wave of gratitude and guilt washed over him. “Yeah, maybe,” Percy managed to say. He stood up from the table, more abruptly than he’d intended. “Be right back.” He walked to the bathroom quickly and shut the door.
Sinking onto the edge of the tub, Percy clutched his head, staring at his mom’s sunflower-patterned bathroom decor without seeing it. Instead, he relived the same moment he’d been dwelling on for weeks—his anger swelling, Elisson’s river exploding, the moment he’d realized Annabeth might have been in the zone of destruction and it was too late to stop it.
Annabeth loved him so much and he was so completely unworthy of it. He didn’t know how to bear it. He wished, for a second, that she would dump him, then felt horrible about that too.
He was destructive, he was dangerous. Any thought in his head could hurt someone. Any moment of weakness could cause an eruption. He wished he could open a hole in the ground and seal himself inside.
NOVEMBER, BEFORE
Annabeth stayed in New York for Thanksgiving, successfully making the case to her family that since she didn’t get Wednesday off from school there was no point in traveling across the country on Thursday just to be there for a few hours of the holiday.
So on Thanksgiving Day, Percy, Annabeth, Sally, and Paul sat around their small dining table and ate an indecent amount of turkey. Percy clumsily used his fork with his left hand so he could hold Annabeth’s under the table.
Afterward, Percy and Annabeth helped start the dishes, but quickly found themselves shooed out by his parents.
“This kitchen’s too small!” Sally said good-naturedly. “Go sit, wait for pie!”
They settled onto the couch with a football game flashing on the screen in front of them. Annabeth pulled her legs up and leaned against Percy’s chest, closing her eyes and listening to his heartbeat. Percy wrapped his arms around her. The dishes clinked in the kitchen and Paul and Sally’s soft laughter floated over to them. A strand of Annabeth’s hair tickled Percy’s cheek and he made no move to brush it away.
Percy took in a slightly shaky breath. “This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my whole life,” he said, so quietly even Annabeth could probably barely hear him. But she looked up at him, saying nothing except with her eyes.
“Just wanted you to know,” he said, trying to control his smile.
Annabeth pressed her own smiling lips together, as if holding back something she wanted to say that threatened to rush out without permission. Then she leaned up and kissed him softly, quickly, pulling back when Paul’s voice from the kitchen called out, “Whipped cream or ice cream on the pie? What do we think?”
NOVEMBER, AFTER
Annabeth’s dad put his foot down. “I’ve barely seen you in a year,” he said on the phone. “We’ll get you excused from school.”
Annabeth had protested, promising she’d find a good weekend for a visit instead, but Frederick uncharacteristically insisted. “It’s Thanksgiving,” he said. “It’s a time for family.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes and considered telling him to fuck off anyway. But their relationship had been better than usual these last couple years, and she didn’t want to risk creating more tension.
And she really didn’t want to risk him questioning whether paying her tuition in New York was worth it.
Even so, she had a bad feeling about it when she told Percy. They hadn’t been apart like that since they’d won the war, and part of her had refused to believe they’d ever be in separate time zones again. Her heart raced every time she thought about it.
Percy didn’t like it either. “Maybe I could go with you?” he asked later that week.
They were studying in his room. Annabeth had been absorbed in her laptop, wearing a slight frown that stayed in place when she looked up.
“What, to my dad’s?”
“Sure,” Percy said. His tone was breezy in a way that was obviously forced. “Your family’s met me. Could be fun.”
Annabeth gave him a doubtful look. “But it’s your last Thanksgiving till college. Won’t your mom be sad?”
Percy sighed. “Well. Probably, yeah.”
She reached for his hand and tried for a reassuring smile. “You should stay. It’ll be okay, it’s just a few days. We’ll IM every night.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he looked at their hands and took a breath. “Okay. You’re right.”
The day of her departure came a couple weeks later. With all her belongings in one carry-on, Annabeth boarded the plane, settled into her seat, switched off her phone, and tried to breathe.
This was fine, she told herself. It was probably good for them, actually. They’d spend just a few days apart, they’d prove to themselves that they could handle it, and she’d get to be with him again by Monday. They used to spend months apart! This was fine.
Still, when the plane landed, she turned her phone back on with a sense of dread.
Oh, gods. Three missed calls from Percy.
A monster. An angry god. World War III. Anything could be happening, and she wasn’t there.
She shoved her way off the plane, getting several vocal complaints from other passengers that she elbowed in her rush, and dialed his number the second she entered the terminal.
“Hello?” She quickly noted that he sounded subdued, but not panicked.
“ Percy? What’s wrong? What happened? I missed your calls.”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m really sorry. I forgot that you were on the plane and couldn’t answer your phone.”
“Oh. Okay,” Annabeth said. “But what did you call for? I thought we were going to IM later.”
“Yeah,” Percy said. Embarrassment was flooding his voice. “I just, well. No, it’s fine, it’s funny, actually, I just got scared. I wanted to make sure nothing had happened, and then I worried when you didn’t pick up.”
Annabeth couldn’t speak for a moment. “Oh,” she managed.
“But everything's okay!” Percy said, sounding upbeat. “I’m really sorry. I don’t want to get in the way of your Thanksgiving. Talk later?”
“Um, no, it’s fine—okay, talk later. But, Percy?”
“Yeah?” Percy said.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t like this either.”
A beat of silence. “Yeah.” Annabeth thought she could hear a tremor.
“It’s going to be okay. I’m coming home in four days.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“I really love you.”
“I love you. So much.” She hung up and fell into a chair, her face in her hands.
DECEMBER, BEFORE
Christmas was coming. The first snow of the season came in early December, a wispy snow that made everything look like it had been sprinkled with glitter.
Despite the cold, Percy and Annabeth got cocoa and walked together, trying to savor every moment they had that wasn’t spent studying for their finals. Percy found himself getting distracted just looking at her. They hadn’t often gotten to spend much time together during winter months before, and she was heart-stoppingly beautiful in a knit hat and scarf, her cheeks flushed with cold.
The sun started going down too early, and Annabeth suggested they hit a bookstore before going home. “I’ve been wanting to check this one out,” she said as they pushed the door open. The warm air made Percy’s cheeks tingle.
Annabeth drifted toward the biography section, chattering about a new release she’d been looking at.
“I’d better not,” she said, looking at it wistfully. “I don’t have time to read for fun right now anyway.”
“Break is soon, though,” Percy said encouragingly.
“It is,” she said, glancing up with a sparkle in her eyes. “I was thinking—we both get done pretty early. Why don’t we go spend break at camp before Christmas?”
Percy grinned. “Sounds good to me.” It did, but her enthusiasm was so palpable, he would have said yes no matter what.
“Okay,” she said. “You should tell your mom, probably, but I can IM Chiron and let him know.” She beamed. “We’re going to have so much time !”
It was an exciting thought. Although Percy had been thrilled that Annabeth had decided to go to school in New York City, they both had been pretty busy with class and responsibilities. They’d tried to make the most out of study dates and weekends, but three weeks at camp with nothing else vying for their attention but camp activities and games and pegasi and chores and harpies enforcing curfews and cabin rivalries and—all right, well, without homework vying for their attention, at least—would be a relief and a luxury.
Percy and Annabeth walked together to her subway stop, swinging their hands between them. As her train started to approach, he pulled her in and kissed her, soft at first, and then deeper. She cupped the back of his neck with her mittened hand and kissed him back.
When she pulled away, Percy reluctantly let her slip out of his arms. “Get back to your dorm safe?” he said.
“Of course,” she said. She smiled at him and stepped onto the train. “See you.”
“Yeah,” he said. “See you.” His chest felt hollow as the train rushed away. See you didn’t even come close to what he wished he could call after her.
As far as Annabeth knew, he was planning to walk home after seeing her off. But as soon as he emerged back into the chilly air of the street, he headed back to the bookstore and nabbed the book she’d been eyeing.
An hour later, Sally walked into the living room to find Percy cross-legged on the floor, wrestling with a roll of wrapping paper.
“How’s it going?” she asked, stifling a laugh.
“I get why Santa hires elves,” Percy grumbled, shaking a wad of tape off his hand. He held up the wrapped gift. None of the folds were straight or crisp, but everything was holding together. “What do you think?”
She inspected his work. “I’m impressed. Is it for Annabeth?”
Percy blushed, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Yeah. It’s a book she wanted.” He’d also picked up a fancy leather bookmark in front of the register, engraved with a pretty leaf design, and some candies she liked. The overall effect of the gifts wrapped together was lumpier than he’d hoped.
“I’m sure she’ll love it,” Sally said, smiling. She ruffled his hair like he was still a little kid. “And she’ll be proud of your wrapping job.”
Percy smiled, but his heart rate picked up. He had a feeling that giving Annabeth the present was going to be a lot more significant than just giving her a book she’d been mildly interested in. He couldn’t shake the sense that when he gave it to her, he was going to tell her he loved her. He wasn’t sure why—he could tell her any time, couldn’t he? But he felt like it had to be special, somehow.
He couldn’t wait, though. He felt like every time they were together, she could hear him screaming it from inside his head. He’d better do it soon, before it slipped out by accident.
Later, when he packed for camp, he carefully tucked the wrapped present into his duffel bag.
DECEMBER, AFTER
Christmas was coming. The weather was turning. Annabeth spotted Percy shivering at odd times, and she didn’t think it was the cold. She found herself grabbing his hand in busy places, as if a current would sweep them apart.
Winter break was approaching again, and they didn’t talk about it. There was an unspoken sense, at least to Annabeth, that if they didn’t address it it might not happen. Maybe, like a graveyard, they could hold their breath until they were past it. Maybe, like a bear, if it didn’t see them it would go away.
When school let out, Annabeth brought an overnight bag from her dorm over to Percy’s apartment, where Sally had set up the pull-out couch for her. Even though they hadn’t discussed it, going to camp was out of the question this particular month. She’d also decided against enduring another holiday at her dad’s and stepmom’s—Thanksgiving had been unbearably awkward, she told Percy—in favor of spending her whole break at the Jackson/Blofis residence.
“My dad’s not thrilled,” she said to Percy, spreading her blanket out on the creaky mattress, “but he can deal.”
The days went by without incident, but the anniversary loomed. On December 13th, they saw an early movie, came home in time for Paul’s pot roast, and played a game of cards with Sally until she started yawning.
“I tell you, kids, I’d better turn in,” she said, “or I’m going to fall asleep sitting here.” She gave them each a hug and a kiss and retired. After a few minutes, Paul finished tidying the kitchen and followed suit, bidding them goodnight.
Annabeth shuffled the cards and stuffed them back into the pack. Percy was quiet. She suddenly became very aware that she didn’t know what to say to him—a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a few years. She looked up hesitantly, as if he was some kind of bomb that could be detonated with too direct a glance.
His expression was unreadable. His right foot tapped the floor in its worn gray sock. His gaze was fixed on his hands, and Annabeth noticed all the nails were bitten to the quick. Some of his cuticles showed signs of recent bleeding.
Annabeth leaned forward and gently cupped one of his hands. “Hey,” she said softly. After a second, his eyes clicked into focus and he looked at her. “Just making sure you’re still here,” she said, smiling weakly. Internally, she kicked herself. That was the worst possible wording, Annabeth. What are you THINKING.
He nodded. “I’m here,” he said. He took a deep breath but didn’t let it out. “I’m going to try to sleep, I think.”
“Okay,” Annabeth said helplessly. Percy kissed her, stood up, and went into his room.
Annabeth tried to fall asleep on the pull-out couch, but every time she started to drift she jolted awake. She kept remembering waking up at camp exactly one year ago, expecting to see him turning and smiling at her in the dining pavilion at breakfast, and the growing dread and panic as it gradually dawned on everyone that the reason no one had seen Percy yet that day was because Percy was not there.
Finally she gave up and tore the blankets off, padding to Percy’s door. She knocked softly, heard a soft, surprised “Yeah?” and cracked the door open.
Percy wasn’t lying down. He was sitting on his bed with his back against the wall, hugging his knees. Without a word, Annabeth climbed into it with him, pulling him close to her and tucking her head against his chest.
Neither of them managed to sleep, but they laid still until the sun started to seep out from behind Percy’s blinds, the two of them clinging as if they could anchor each other to the earth.
WINTER BREAK, BEFORE
Since the new cabins were built, Chiron had decided it wasn’t worth keeping everyone separate at meal times. Percy was thankful for that after years of sitting alone at the Poseidon table.
He and Annabeth grabbed heaping plates of barbecue and sat at a table with Rachel, who was chattering excitedly with a newly-claimed Iris camper she introduced them to while they ate. The table was so packed with old and new campers that following a single conversation was almost impossible, and Percy and Annabeth wound up laughing at each other across the table.
“It’s different around here,” Percy commented, forced to raise his voice over the lively noise of the pavilion.
Annabeth beamed. “The new cabins look great, don’t they? Just dusted with snow. Like a mythological Christmas village.”
“Awesome,” he agreed, grinning. He thought about the gift he’d gotten her, currently sitting on the floor of his cabin in the bag he’d dropped on the floor before going to visit the pegasi. “Hey, listen, I’ve got something for—”
“Campfire!” Clarisse hollered from across the pavilion. “Get your asses to the amphitheater!”
Annabeth stood, scooping up her plate. “She could be nicer about it,” she complained. Percy shrugged and followed.
They ran through all the usual campfire song favorites, roasted s’mores, and disbanded after the last few rays of sun slipped under the horizon. Annabeth grabbed Percy’s hand contentedly as the other campers started to trickle out of the amphitheater.
“I’m gonna turn in,” she said. “See you at breakfast tomorrow?”
Percy thought quickly. Breakfast could be a good time to give her her present early—and to tell her, well, something. The dining pavilion was usually busy, but he could probably convince her to grab a bagel and walk with him on the beach for privacy. “You got it.”
He walked her to Cabin Six and gave her a soft, lingering kiss, squeezed her hand one last time, and let it go. Percy couldn’t help but feel a pang watching her disappear through the door.
You’ll see her first thing in the morning, doofus, he thought to himself as he walked away. As soon as he got to his cabin, he changed into a pair of sweats, got the gift out of his bag, and set it on the nightstand so he could grab it as soon as he woke up. Then he crashed onto his bunk.
Percy was used to bad dreams, but that night was full of the most disturbing ones he’d ever had, and each dragged out for what felt like weeks. They blended together incoherently so he couldn’t get a handle on any of them, instead swirling in a sea of vague feelings of fear and Hera’s distorted face and a palace of ice and a metallic fire-breathing dragon head. When he finally woke, his head was pounding painfully and his mouth was impossibly dry. He felt cold earth underneath him. His heart raced.
He’d lost something—he was sure of it—the panic was flooding him, obscuring his vision, obstructing his lungs. He couldn’t breathe! —oh gods—a gigantic wolf baring its teeth above him—terror surging—he was about to die—he couldn’t find a single memory of how he got there—he couldn’t find a single memory of who he was —a voice from deep in his chest screamed a name he knew he should know—
ANNABETH.
WINTER BREAK, AFTER
Percy hoped the constant on-edge state he was in would abate after Christmas. He decided to pretend it had.
Annabeth invited him to her school friend Dave’s New Year’s party at his parents’ apartment —they were out of town—and he forced himself to ignore the twisting in his stomach long enough to say yes.
He could do this, he told himself when they entered the dark apartment, illuminated only by Christmas lights and the glow from the kitchen. He could be a normal kid at a party, having a great time ringing in the new year with his girlfriend.
The music was too loud. Together with the dim light, Percy felt like all his senses were dulled. Throughout the night, he found himself whipping around, fully activated by every sound and sensation that took him off guard. At twenty minutes to midnight, he wished he could ask Annabeth to leave, but they couldn’t go before the ball dropped. Everyone would know something was wrong.
“You okay?” Annabeth asked, shouting over the noise.
“Yeah,” Percy lied, trying to swallow. He was starting to feel dizzy. He gripped her hand, trying not to show that he needed it for balance. “Is it really hot in here?”
She frowned. “It’s not that hot, I don’t think. Do you want to go outside?”
“I—” his breathing started to pick up. “I think I need to sit—sit down—”
“Okay,” she said. “Come here.” She quickly pulled him through the kitchen, into the hallway, and opened a door into one of the bedrooms. Percy collapsed onto the bed. Annabeth closed the door before running back to him, crouching on the floor next to him and holding his hand as he hyperventilated.
“Just focus on breathing,” she said when the attack had subsided. “Do you want some water?”
“I have to tell you something,” Percy said, his head in his arms.
Annabeth took a seat next to him on the bed. “I’m listening.”
“I can’t do it,” he burst out. “I can’t graduate this year. I really tried, I can’t do it, and I know you wanted us to graduate together. I’m so sorry, I can’t do it.” There were tears on his cheeks. He wasn’t sure how they got there.
Annabeth’s arms were around him. “Oh, that’s okay! Percy, that’s okay. Look at me.”
It took a few minutes, but Percy raised his head to meet her eyes.
“You don’t have to graduate with me this spring,” she said. “That’s not what’s important.”
Percy shook his head. “I’ve never been a good student. And now I can’t even finish high school on time.”
“You lost an entire semester,” she pointed out. “You aren’t being fair.”
“It’s not just the time,” Percy said. “It’s like…I can’t make my brain focus on homework anymore. Like all I can do is walk through a fog and try not to fall over. I think my wiring’s messed up now. I don’t know—” he had to cut himself off and breathe. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to be normal again.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to put you through this,” he choked.
She didn’t let go of him. “You’re not putting me through anything.”
He shook his head. “But I can’t control myself anymore. You saw it in—with Akhlys. With Elisson. What if that’s what I am now?”
Annabeth’s eyes were wide, her brow creased. “Is that what you think?”
Percy swallowed and pulled away. “I scared you. I scared myself. I don’t know what to do.”
Annabeth took his hand and squeezed it. “I don’t think you’re out of control,” she said quietly. “I think we’ve been through things we shouldn’t have survived, and it’s messed with us a little. And it’s going to be fine, eventually.”
Percy didn’t respond.
Annabeth took a deep, ragged breath. “Okay. Here’s the truth. I am scared.” She felt tears pricking her eyes. “I was scared when you disappeared and I was scared when we split up in Rome and I was scared when we—when we fell. I was—I was scared when you did that to Akhlys.” She swallowed and closed her eyes, feeling Percy’s physical reaction to this. “I was scared the whole time we were fighting the war, and when it was over, I didn’t stop being scared. I couldn’t turn it off. It wasn’t your fault. I just haven’t been able to stop feeling like the war is happening.” She laughed shakily. “I’m just trying not to think about it. Classes mean I don’t have to, usually.”
“Gods,” Percy said. His posture was hunched, broken. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”
Annabeth shook her head. “I didn’t want you to worry, or anything like that.”
“And I didn’t want you to,” he said miserably. He rubbed his face. “Gods. What now?”
“What now,” she repeated helplessly.
In the other room, they could hear yells and the beginning of the countdown.
“Ball’s dropping,” Percy said.
“Yeah,” Annabeth said. Neither of them made a move toward the door. Percy reached out and squeezed her hand.
When midnight struck, Percy kissed Annabeth, and she kissed him back a little desperately. Happy, drunken whoops sounded in the other room. When they broke apart, Percy saw she was smiling through tears, and he wiped them away. “Happy New Year,” he said, grinning at the absurdity of the moment.
Maybe it wasn’t even that funny, but when she laughed, it was clear and loud and beautiful, and as Percy laughed too it felt like a dam was breaking.