Chapter Text
Percy plopped a piece of lasagna on his plate while Sally finally joined him and Paul on the dinner table. Estelle had just been put down for a nap, allowing a few moments of peace for the Jackson-Blofis household. Before the baby had been born, Percy conceptually understood how much work it would be, but experiencing the flood of diapers and formula and crying and baby-proofing was a whole different thing. Now that he was done with school (done with school!), he was happy to have some free time to help out his parents and enjoy his sister’s company before he and Annabeth went off to college.
All three took a peek at the baby monitor, which emitted some white noise—the wonderful absence of crying—and showed a sleeping Estelle in her crib. A collective exhale of relief preceded the start of dinner.
“I was thinking, Percy,” Sally started, “we could go to Montauk once Paul wraps up his semester. Celebrate as a family, show Estelle the sea. What do you think?”
“That’s an awesome idea. Annabeth too, right?”
Sally laughed and exchanged a glance with Paul. “Of course, honey. Annabeth can come if she wants.”
“I really want her to. I mean, I think it would be great if she did,” Percy said, then paused for another bite of lasagna. “We’ve been dating almost two years and she’s never been to Montauk.”
“I’ve never been, either,” Paul added. “It’s been a busy couple of years for this family, hasn’t it?”
Percy snorted. “That’s a way to put it.”
“You can let Annabeth know the next time you talk to her. Should be the first weekend in June, right, Paul?”
Paul nodded. “Should be, unless we have trouble with grading again. I swear this new principal needs to Google his way out of the parking lot.”
A lighthearted conversation ensued about the mishaps of the last week of the school year, and Percy excused himself after dinner was over. Based on the speed with which he slipped off to his room, Sally was sure he was about to call Annabeth.
Paul chuckled and pointed his nose in the direction of Percy’s bedroom. “So, do we start saving up for the wedding?”
“ Start? Honey, you’re way behind.”
Annabeth’s face flickered into view, and Percy recognized the background as her bedroom in her parents’ house in San Francisco. They had convinced her to spend some time with them after graduating high school by arguing it would be easier to move to New Rome if some of her things were already in California. Percy knew she didn’t actually want to stay with them for any amount of time, but Frederick’s muted pleading always made her feel bad enough to give in anyway.
“Hi,” he greeted her with a grin.
“Hi. I miss you.” Annabeth smiled back at him, and Percy wondered if the butterflies would ever go away.
“Gods, I miss you so much. How’s San Fran?”
Annabeth poorly concealed a frown. “You know, the usual.”
Percy nodded. The first time Annabeth had stayed with her parents after Tartarus had been quite disastrous, and she ran back to New York after only a few days. In tears, she had told Percy she couldn’t stand feeling like a ghost in a house she had been promised was her home. In Percy’s opinion, Frederick and Angela hadn’t been trying nearly hard enough to accommodate Annabeth despite the fact that she was beyond not okay and needed their support more than ever.
This was the second time she’d been back for a brief visit, each better than the first, but still strange—they treated her like a porcelain doll, a stark contrast from the coldness of before, and Annabeth still felt like a guest.
“Yeah,” Percy replied. He had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t ask her to come home. “Bobby and Matthew?”
“They’re obsessed with Minecraft now, which is fun.”
“Do they know their sister is a professional?”
Annabeth smiled smugly. “They do now. I showed them how to speed-run killing the Ender Dragon and now they won’t stop asking me for tips.”
“You’re so cool,” Percy said sarcastically.
Annabeth shrugged. “You wish you were as cool as me. Anyway, what’s up? You’ve got a look on your face.”
“I have an exciting invitation.”
“Is that so?” Annabeth said, raising her eyebrows.
“It is so. My family is going to Montauk on the first weekend of June to celebrate graduation and New Rome and stuff. It’ll be Estelle’s first time at the beach. Wanna come?”
Annabeth pondered this for a few seconds, and Percy knew exactly what she’d say next.
“Would it be okay if I did? I mean, I don’t want to intrude on your family time.”
“Beth, I really want you to come. You’re my family too, you know.”
She smiled in a way that indicated that Percy had successfully convinced her.
“I’d love to come. First weekend of June? That’s a couple of weeks from now…”
“You could always tell your dad you’re needed at camp.”
She tilted her head. “I definitely could. You know what? Today’s Tuesday?”
“Correct.”
“I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Percy pouted. “Come home tomorrow. I’ll miss you too much.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes. “You’ll survive. You have a cute baby to hang out with, and actually, you told me you’d send me photos of her while I was away and you still haven’t sent a single one. Do you even love me anymore?”
Percy covered his face with his hands dramatically. “Fuck, sorry. I was busy thinking about how much I love you and I forgot to send the pictures.”
She stuck out her tongue at him. “Pictures, or else.”
“Or else what?”
“You won’t ever have to find out, will you?”
Paul parked the car half a block away from the cabin. Estelle was awake in the back next to Percy, and Annabeth had napped on Percy’s shoulder almost the entire ride.
“Hold on a second, you two,” Sally said. Percy tensed—this was her we’re having a talk tone. “You’ll both be adults in a couple of months, and this is a special weekend. So I won’t exile either of you to the couch, as long as you promise to be responsible.”
Percy thought about the queen bed on the second story, where he usually slept, and blushed. He looked over at Annabeth, and she looked equally mortified.
“You’ll be responsible?” Sally pressed.
“Yeah, mom, okay, oh my gods” Percy said, shoving his arm in front of Annabeth’s body and opening the door on her side as quickly as possible.
The hot air immediately struck him. The ocean here didn’t smell as clean as it did in Long Island Sound, but it still felt like peace. He hauled his backpack and Annabeth’s onto his shoulders, ignoring her protests, and led her by the hand to the upstairs bedroom, dropping both bags onto the bed before turning to her.
“Let me give you a tour.”
It was a short tour since the cabin was quite small, but Annabeth listened attentively as Percy added in some choice memories from his previous times in Montauk. He left the most embarrassing ones out, as he was sure his mother would cover those over lunch anyway—which led him to his final stop in the kitchen.
“I made the sauce last night, so I just need you to cook the pasta and prepare the salad,” Sally said, retiring from the kitchen to the second bedroom with a fussy Estelle in her arms, Paul following behind.
Percy pulled out a pot to boil water in and handed Annabeth a knife and the tomatoes. He loved it when she was over for meals with his family for many reasons, the biggest one being it gave him a glimpse of what it might be like to share his life with her in a more permanent way. He’d known for a long time that she’s a light sleeper, what her face looks like when she’s concealing pain, and where each scar lies on her body—intimacy granted by loving during five years of war. Only recently had Percy had the chance to learn Annabeth’s eyes are especially sensitive to chopping onions (so he always does it for her), or that she only starts craving dessert way after the meal is over (there’s a stash of candy in the bedroom just for her).
If he’d had it his way, they would’ve shared a dorm freshman year, but New Rome’s freshman dorms were not co-ed ( what’s this, the twenties, he’d grumbled to Annabeth when he read the email from NRU Housing). Sally had told him it would be good for him to learn to live as an adult by himself before they started sharing a place, which made sense in theory, but he was simply too enamored with the idea of having a place that was just theirs to listen to reason—thus the grumbling. Regardless, he’d have to settle for the small ways his life was entangled with hers for now. He’d take chopping her onions and sharing a grown-up bed with her for the first time over being away from her.
The kitchen window faced the ocean, and Annabeth took occasional glimpses out while she diced her vegetables (Percy might have been concerned she wasn’t paying attention if she wasn’t the best knife wielder he knew). The mid-day sun was burning the pebbly sand and reflecting on her face in a way Percy could only describe as perfect.
“This is where my parents met,” Percy said. “Not sure if I ever told you.”
Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows. “Your parents? But— oh. Your actual dad.”
“Yep.”
“Wow,” Annabeth said, then took a quick glance towards Sally and Paul’s bedroom, then lowered her voice. “Doesn’t Paul mind?”
Percy shrugged. “I’m not sure if he knows, honestly, but I don’t think he would. He’s chill.”
“Yeah, he is.” She scraped the vegetables into a bowl with her knife. “Finished. Is that all?”
“Yeah, just gonna season it now. Can you drain the pasta and mix in the sauce?”
“I can manage that, I think,” Annabeth said, and Percy laughed. Another thing he had learned: Annabeth and cooking? Not the best combination. The knowledge gained in her baking class in high school had sadly not extended to the other culinary arts.
Paul joined them and helped set the table. “Sally is finishing up with Estelle, how’s lunch looking?”
“Pretty delectable, if I do say so myself,” Percy said. “We’re pretty much all done.”
“Look at you two, making lunch all by yourselves,” Paul teased with a wink.
“Not sure boiling pasta and cutting vegetables should earn me all that credit,” Annabeth said.
“As the teacher, I decide what earns you credit or not. You get an A, miss Chase.”
Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “Not an A plus?”
Paul laughed. “We can discuss options for extra credit.”
“Oh, my gods, I thought I graduated high school, can we stop with the report card talk?” Percy said.
Annabeth walked over to Percy’s side and poked his ribs. “Babe, I have terrible news for you about what they do in college.”
“Drugs and partying, right?”
“What’s that, mister?” Sally yelled out from within the cabin, her footsteps approaching the kitchen.
“Oh, we were just discussing what I won’t be doing in college.”
Sally set Estelle down and shot Percy a glance. “Partying is fine in moderation. I think you’ve partied a below average amount for a kid your age, really.”
Percy shrugged. She was probably right, but being around drunk high schoolers when he himself didn’t drink wasn’t exactly his idea of a good time. He wondered if drunk college kids would be any better.
Lunch was filled with college stories from Paul, who had also not been too big into parties—Annabeth was especially interested in his role as the president of the Shakespeare Appreciation Club.
“I’m surrounded by nerds,” Percy said, then pointed his fork at Estelle across the table. “I need you to be cooler than all of us when you grow up.”
“I’m afraid she’s got no choice but to be a nerd,” Annabeth said. “Genetically, there’s no escaping it.”
“She’ll be the next Shakespeare,” Paul said.
“She’ll win the Nobel Prize,” Sally added.
“And the Pulitzer,” Annabeth said. “Estelle Jackson-Blofis: the youngest woman to win the Pulitzer Prize in history.”
From her seat, Estelle babbled as if she agreed.
“That would make her cooler than all of us,” Percy conceded.
Estelle let out a squeal of joy when her little feet touched the water. Percy made sure the water was almost perfectly still so she wouldn’t be startled, but still let the tiniest possible waves lap back and forth so she could feel the movement of the sea. Sally said she was still too young to go into the ocean any further up than her ankles, so Percy and Annabeth held her up from either side, supporting her torso and head, while she softly hovered over the sand.
The novelty of it lasted for a good few minutes, and Percy wasn’t sure what melted him down more: his baby sister or the way Annabeth was so good with her. Watching his girlfriend make faces at the baby did things to his heart that were probably not common for a seventeen year-old to experience. He couldn’t help imagining them back in this beach, a lot of years later, holding a different baby.
His musings were interrupted when Estelle broke into a wail.
“Okay, mommy time,” Percy said, picking her up and walking back over to where Paul and Sally were sitting. “She’s done swimming.”
Paul took the baby into his arms. “That’s a lot of adventure for one day, isn’t it, girl?”
“She’s so brave,” Annabeth said, wrapping an arm around Percy’s waist. “Like her brother.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Wanna go for a swim?”
“Yeah.”
Percy held Annabeth close and swam far enough from the sand for it to feel somewhat private while still staying within eyeshot of his parents. Though he could very easily make them a bubble at the bottom, he didn’t think his mom would appreciate it if they disappeared into the ocean.
Annabeth clung to his neck and laid her cheek on his shoulder, and he pulled her in by the waist. Percy loved her like this—when she let her guard down a few more inches, quiet in her relaxation, almost pliable in his arms.
“Percy, this is perfect,” she said into the skin of his neck. “Thanks for letting me come.”
“It wouldn’t be perfect if you weren’t here,” he replied.
She pulled back slightly and smiled up at him—gods, how was it even possible to be this in love with someone? They were coming up on two years of dating, but Percy felt like he’d loved her his whole life. What a crazy thing to think, Percy thought to himself, but it felt like there was no breathing without Annabeth. For just a moment, he believed his heart might have stopped beating if his chest wasn’t pressed up against hers like that, hers pounding alongside his.
“I love you so much I don’t know what to do with all of it,” Annabeth whispered. Her wet hair was plastered along the sides of her face and the blue water was reflected in her irises, and the way she was looking at him— Percy felt dizzy.
“I can’t believe you’re real,” he said. He squeezed her closer, feeling her heat on his skin— you’re real, you’re here. “Sometimes I think I dreamed you up.”
She buried her nose into his neck again, and he felt her smile against his skin.
“I’m so happy I got to bring you here before we leave,” Percy said. “Who knows if we’ll have time to come back here after our lives get crazy again.”
“Right, but a different crazy. Just like, adult crazy, not godly crazy.”
“Exactly. We won’t have a lot of free time when you’ve got a fancy internship somewhere on top of being president of the Shakespeare Society.”
Annabeth laughed. “You’ll be busy, too. You always manage to get yourself into something, especially since you can’t say no to anyone.”
“I don’t know what, since they won’t let me swim.”
“Of course not, they would be insane to let you in the swim team.”
“Right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Annabeth shifted in his arms and looked up at him.
“I’m excited about it, though. Doing adult stuff with you.”
Percy smiled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I wanna do all of it. Moving in, getting jobs, getting married, all that normal, boring stuff.”
Percy’s heart sped up. All that normal, boring stuff seemed like everything he could ever want.
“I want it, too. I want everything with you.”
Annabeth’s grip on him tightened. She looked a little dazed.
“Hm?” He asked.
“It’s just— I’m so happy. Things are actually good.”
Percy pulled her close. Her lips pressed into his shoulder, her curls partially obscuring his view of the beach, where his family were almost little dots in the distance. He felt safe. Calm.
“Yeah. They are.”
“You’re all the way over there,” Annabeth said, her arm reaching across the queen bed.
Percy plopped down across from her, freshly out of the shower, and the distance did indeed feel unusual. They’d gotten used to sharing twin beds—in Cabin 3, the Argo II, his own bedroom—so a bed that was actually made for two people felt too big. It probably would be, Percy thought to himself, because he didn’t know how to sleep next to her without pulling her body flush against his, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to learn otherwise.
“Come here,” he grabbed her arm and pulled her over, and she rolled on top of him. “That’s better.”
Annabeth laid her head on his chest and let out a soft hum of appreciation when he wrapped his arms around her, hands slipping underneath the back of her shirt. Her warmth was grounding—Percy sometimes felt like his mind might float away with the way she made him feel, the scent and texture of her skin sending his senses into overdrive.
She wriggled up his body, her head now hovering above his.
“You tired?”
With her gaze falling on him like that? Not a chance. He felt electric.
“Nope. You?”
She shook her head. A few strands of her hair fell down onto his face, so Percy tucked them back, cupping her neck and pulling her lips down to his. She kissed him deeply, letting her hands roam slowly up and down his body like they had all the time in the world. In the quiet of the room, the moon shining softly outside, Percy felt like they just might.