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It’s been a long few weeks. Winter break is supposed to be fun and relaxing, and while Annabeth knows that’s not the reality when you’re a demigod, she had still hoped for something a bit better than… what she’s actually had to deal with. But it’s over now. She’s safe. Thalia and Grover and Zoë and Percy rescued her, and they had gotten out alive—for the most part—and now she’s safely back at camp. After flying across the country on the back of a pegasus, and after a tense council from the Olympians, Annabeth finally has a moment to breathe.
She isn’t sure how long it’s been since they’d tried to rescue Nico and Bianca from their boarding school. The time spent holding up the sky, and then being held prisoner, it had all blurred together into a painful and sharp memory. Maybe it had been a week, maybe two. But she is safe now, back at Camp Half-Blood. Kronos hadn’t killed her, the weight of the sky hadn’t crushed her, and the gods hadn’t blasted her and her friends to smithereens. She’s finally alone, lying on her bed in the otherwise empty Cabin Six. She can breathe.
But, as she tosses and turns in the dark, she realizes she really doesn’t want to be alone. She’s been alone for so long recently. When she closes her eyes in the silence of her cabin, it’s too easy to imagine that she’s back in Mount Tam, waiting in the dark and cold with no idea if help is coming.
She hasn’t told anyone what it was like, the in-between period after she held the sky and before she was rescued. Now that she’s safe—physically, at least—she doesn’t want to be vulnerable by talking about it. It would make her feel weak, and she’s had too much of that recently.
She sighs. She doesn’t want to be here, alone in the empty cabin in the dark. Silently, she slides out of her bed. It’s winter, and even the magical borders of Camp Half-Blood can’t keep out all the cold, so she pulls on a blue hoodie over her pajamas, tugs on her shoes, and slips out the door, grabbing her Yankees cap as she goes. She’s not entirely sure what her plan is, but she knows where she wants to go.
There turns out to be no need for the cap; that late at night and that far into the winter, the central area of the cabins is deserted. Annabeth also figures that, of all the times she’d be able to get away with breaking curfew, it would be now, after she’s been rescued from certain death. Even the harpies would have to cut her some slack.
It only takes her a minute before she’s outside the Poseidon Cabin. Her heartbeat has sped up, and Annabeth tries to ignore that; tries to tell herself it’s just because of the cold. She knocks on the door.
For a good thirty seconds, nothing happens. He’s probably asleep , she tells herself. It’s the first time he’s gotten proper rest, and he’d been the one actually doing the work to get her rescued. She’s about to tell herself that it’s futile, and that she should just let him keep sleeping, and she’s about to turn around and walk back when the door swings open.
And he’s standing there. Percy . He’s rubbing his eyes, and he looks so sleepy and confused, but the moment he sees her, he stands up a bit straighter.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Annabeth says quickly, taking in his tired appearance and feeling guilty about disturbing him. “I’ll let you sleep. Nevermind.”
But before she can turn, Percy shakes his head, reaches out a hand to grab her by the sleeve and keep her from leaving. “I’m up. Is everything ok?” And, gods, he looks so cute when he’s concerned; face all scrunched up like a worried puppy. He’s almost as tall as her again, which she doesn’t love. She likes being taller than him, likes being able to smile down at him. She also likes it because she knows it annoys him.
She glances down, looking away from him. “I didn’t want to be alone,” she confesses, her voice quiet.
He frowns. “Come inside. We can hang out for a bit.”
Annabeth hesitates for a moment. Breaking curfew is one thing, but getting caught in someone else’s cabin after hours? Just the two of them? That’s truly pushing it, and she doesn’t want to imagine how the rest of camp might react if they found out. She knows there are whispers about the two of them, ones that she pretends don’t interest her, even if they make her blush self-consciously. If someone found out that she sneaked into his cabin in the middle of the night, she’d never be able to live it down.
But what else is she going to do? Turn back to her own cabin and lie in her bed all alone once again? For a moment, she wonders what her plan here actually was. Did she really think she would just go get a quick hug from Percy and then go back to bed? No way. Not when Percy’s right here, offering her comfort and company. So she follows him inside.
The cabin is messy. Annabeth’s not really sure how it got messy so fast, seeing as Percy has been here for less than a day. Boys , she figures. His clothes are thrown around everywhere, the shield Tyson had forged leaning haphazardly against the far wall. But as he guides her to his bed, quickly pulling the comforter up so it looks a bit more made, the clutter and mess feel almost comforting.
She sits down on the bed, and he sits too, a little further away. She almost wants to ask him to be closer, so she can have some physical touch to ground her, but she can’t bring herself to ask. Annabeth has never been much of a touchy person, and Percy has always been much more tactile, often putting his hand on her arm or falling asleep with his head resting on her shoulder. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she finds the habit endearing and solacing. Right now, as he sits on the far side of the bed from her, she figures he’s trying to respect her boundaries or something. She appreciates that, she really does, but for once she’d rather just have someone holding her.
“What’s up?” he asks after a minute. She’s facing forward, looking at the far wall and the abalone decorations there, but from her periphery she can see him looking at her with concern. She takes a deep breath and lets it out, and it comes out ragged. She’s not ready to speak yet, but Percy’s patient.
After a few moments of silence, with just the sounds of her labored breathing, she finds her words.
“I was really scared,” she admits quietly. Percy tilts his head like he doesn’t understand. She looks over at him briefly before turning away. “When I was kidnapped,” she clarifies. “Holding the sky was… awful ,” she says, shuddering, and he nods in understanding. “Artemis told me that if I’d had it for much longer, I would have died. But then afterwards, I was just trapped there, waiting. I knew Luke wasn’t going to kill me, but I still wasn’t safe. It was just… so alone, and dark, and scary.” He reaches out and puts his hand on hers, and she lets out a slow breath.
“I’m so sorry, Annabeth,” he says, voice low. They’re both quiet for a moment, and all Annabeth can hear is her own breathing, and he continues. “Would talking about it help?”
She hesitates. “I don’t know,” she admits. Gently, he knocks his shoulder against hers.
“Try?” he asks. “It might stop it from being stuck in your head.”
A few seconds of heavy silence hang between them, and then she finds her words. “I don’t remember how long I was holding the sky. It felt like eternity. I kept feeling like I was going to collapse and get crushed, and it was just so much. But then afterwards, once Artemis took the weight for me, I just felt so weak. I stayed on the floor for hours . At least a day. I couldn’t even move.”
Percy squeezes her hand with his own, and Annabeth flips her palm upwards to weave their fingers together. She can’t find it in herself to be embarrassed about holding hands with him when even this small touch feels so grounding.
“I was just lying on the floor. It was so cold, just the rocks below me. It rained at one point, but I was too weak to move. After a while, I think I passed out. Someone must have picked me up and carried me, because when I woke up, I was locked in some bunk room. That’s where I was for most of the time before you came. Luke would come by, maybe twice a day or so—I couldn’t really measure time. He brought me food, and he’d talk to me for a little bit.” Even though he’s still sitting away from her, Annabeth can tell that Percy tenses at the mention of Luke. She continues anyway. “He apologized for tricking me. He said that he had to do it, but he didn’t want to.
“And it was really hard to sleep. I mean, I had no sense of time; everything felt endless. But whenever I did fall asleep, there was just… the nightmares,” she shudders, then shakes her head as if to clear it. “I didn’t know if you were going to find me,” she admits. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but he squeezes her hand in his. “I was worried that you’d given up on me.”
“I would never stop looking for you,” he tells her immediately, with a certainty and intensity that she hadn’t expected. She looks at him now, holding his eye contact as he gazes at her. She can feel her eyes grow heavy with tears threatening to spill. “You’re my best friend, Annabeth. I couldn’t give up on you.”
She lets out a sob just as he says her name. His genuine expression is what pushes her over the edge, and tears begin to run down her cheeks. He doesn’t look startled or taken aback; instead, he just shifts closer to her and pulls her into a hug. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she manages, and she can feel him nod against her shoulder. She lets herself sink into his embrace, lets herself fall apart a bit. This is where she is truly safe. This is where she can be vulnerable. Her head is tucked against his chin, and his arm has wrapped around her shoulders. In a moment of clarity, she notes that they’ve never had a hug like this before; a hug so long and close and intimate. She knows she should feel embarrassed about how she’s just sobbing in her best friend’s arms. But she doesn’t have it in her to care. With his free arm, he reaches to her face and touches a strand of her hair. It’s her gray streak, her physical reminder of the weight she carried on her shoulders.
“I’m so sorry, Annabeth. I’m sorry we took so long to find you.” His voice is strained, like he’s trying not to cry. The tone makes Annabeth cry even harder.
“No, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she says.
Neither of them say anything for a minute. He runs his hand along her shoulder, keeping her close, and she tries to steady her breathing. She knows she’d never admit it—especially not to Percy himself—but she likes being held by him like this.
“Do you want to…” he starts, before fading out. She shifts away and looks at him. It’s hard to tell in the darkness, but she thinks he might be blushing. He starts again. “You can stay the night here, if you want. You don’t have to go back.” She knows for sure now that he’s blushing, and if she had to guess, she’d say that she’s probably turning red as well. “So you don’t have to be alone,” he adds.
“I— um,” she stammers. She’s not normally one to be at a loss for words, but she’s not sure what to say in this moment. She really doesn’t want to be alone again. She wants to stay here with her best friend. But there’s a line that they’ve been dancing around recently, one they’ve gotten near a few times. Like when they slow danced together. Twice. And the way he hugged her after they had escaped Mount Tam, or how she sat behind him on the pegasus ride back, arms holding him tight to her chest. She doesn’t know if he’s aware of this line, because Percy can be pretty oblivious to the obvious, but the bashful look on his face as he avoids her gaze makes her suspect he’s got some idea of what’s going on between them. She thinks spending the night in his cabin with him is getting pretty close to crossing the line.
“You don’t have to,” he says quickly. “I was just— you’d be alone otherwise. And I know you don’t—”
“I want to stay,” she says, interrupting him. “It’s just, um…” She pulls her eyes away from Percy and looks around the rest of the Poseidon Cabin. “There aren’t any other beds set up in here,” she says.
“Oh,” Percy says. “Well, if that’s the issue, I can sleep on a bare mattress, or on the floor or something. You can take my bed.”
“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed after waking you up in the middle of the night,” she says, looking down.
Percy is quiet for a moment. “Then we can share the bed. If… if that’s okay with you.”
Oh . Well, that’s an option, too. “Is that weird?” Annabeth asks, hesitant.
“No,” Percy responds. “We’ve slept next to each other tons of times when we’ve been on quests before.” Annabeth doesn’t bring up that it’s usually because they’re outside huddling by a fire, and not in a cabin with half a dozen extra bunk beds. Because now is not the time for logic; Percy is offering her the comfort she’s too afraid to ask for, and she’d be stupid to turn him down.
So she lets herself accept it. “Okay,” she says. He smiles at her, soft and caring. He scoots away from her and pulls back the blanket. She smiles back at him, hoping it conveys her thanks, then moves to get under the covers. He moves after her, sliding in on the side next to the wall. They both lie on their backs, looking up at the little glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. Even in the small bed, there’s space between them. Annabeth knows that his hand is right next to hers, and that if she were to reach out even an inch, she’d find his. They’re both quiet as they settle in, and this time the silence is almost uncomfortable. She’s not sure what she’s done to get such an incredible best friend, who will wake up in the middle of the night and offer her his bed. She’s not sure she deserves it, but right now, she’s not complaining.
But, gods, even this distance feels like too much for her. She doesn’t want to vocalize what she wants, but Percy crossed the entire country to find her, so she can ask a single question. “Percy, could you… could you keep holding me?” she asks.
He doesn’t say anything, and she’s worried that he’s already fallen asleep, or maybe he heard her but doesn’t want to keep touching her, and he wants to let her down gently by pretending to be asleep. She’s starting to panic a little, and her heartbeat is speeding up, but then he lifts up the arm that’s next to her. “Come ’ere,” he murmurs, voice heavy with sleep. She obliges, grateful, and rolls onto her side. She scoots herself closer to Percy, resting her head on his chest and curling her arms in front of her. Percy brings his arm down, wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her a smidge closer. He smells like clean laundry and the sea, and Annabeth finally allows herself to feel tired. As much as she likes being taller than Percy, she’s glad that she still feels protected by him.
“You’re not allowed to tell anyone about this,” she mumbles. Her words don’t have the bite she was hoping for.
He laughs, and she can feel it in her chest. “I wouldn’t dare,” he tells her. And then, light enough that Annabeth thinks she might have imagined it, he presses a kiss to the crown of her head. She closes her eyes, breathes in the presence of him, and for the first time in weeks, she sleeps without nightmares.