A/N Helloooo. Thank you for the reads and reviews, they mean the world. This ones Hazel-centric, cuz I adore her and I love the idea of the rest of the boys of the Seven treating her like a little sister (apart from Frank, obviously). Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO

Hazel was going to blame Frank for this one. It was completely, utterly his fault. She was looking at her closet now, the one in the barracks, and she realized that it was nearly completely taken over by sweatshirts. She had six of them. That might not be a very big number, but considering that up until a few weeks ago, she had owned one, it was a bit worrying. And, to add to that, only one out of the lot was actually her size. The rest were huge, like not fashionably-oversized kind of huge, but more like, meant-for-someone-twice-her-size kind of huge.

She knew exactly why too.

It had all started one night on the Argo II. They had been flying over some sea or the other, the first calm night in ages, and she had been enjoying the cool breeze and lack of seasickness.

Frank had joined her, wearing jeans and a burgundy hoodie. She was only wearing a T-shirt and shorts, perfect for the day weather they had been experiencing, but not so great for a cold night.

Somewhere in the middle of their conversation about stars, she had shivered, and Frank's instinct to make things perfect for her kicked in. He had unzipped his hoodie and slipped it over her shoulders. It had warmed her instantaneously, but, to date, she wasn't sure if it was because of the hoodie, or the smile that he had given her.

Starting then, she had fallen in love with sweatshirts. And that wasn't the end of it.

She pulled a sea green sweatshirt out of the closet and almost laughed at how cliché it was. It matched his eyes and smelled like the sea and Annabeth had laughed for about an hour straight when she first saw it. This sweatshirt had a story too.

Two nights after they saved Percy and Annabeth, she had been plagued with nightmares. She didn't really want to wake Frank up (he looked too cute asleep as a dog) so she had just plodded up to the deck, still in her pajamas.

The second she had gotten there, she realized that she wasn't alone. Percy stood off to the side, staring over the edge of the ship, into the sea below. She couldn't see his face, but she could make out the sag of his shoulders, the exhausted way he held himself. He had come back from Tartarus only a couple of days ago, and was bound to be in pieces.

She wasn't sure what she could do for him, but she wanted to try to help her cousin at least. So, she walked up, ignoring his slight jump when she moved next to him, and smiled softly.

"Hey Percy"

He smiled back, but it didn't reach his eyes, "Hey Haze. Can't sleep?"

She nodded. "Yeah. You?"

"Same. I just...it's hard to forget, ya know? Like I keep thinking we're still in there, and it's so hard to remember that we're safe. I wouldn't have even left Annabeth, but she was reading and I was 'being annoying' apparently," he laughed softly, "Sorry. Are you okay?"

"What are you apologizing for? I'm fine. A bit worried about you actually, " Hazel bit her lip and watched as Percy stared at her, looking shocked.

"Why are you worrying about me? I'm fine."

"Percy."

"Okay, maybe I'm not fine yet. But I'm getting there. It's just, going to take a while I guess."

His eyes darkened and his grip on the railing tightened. He looked so broken, so lost, Hazel could feel her heart cracking into a hundred pieces.

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, tight. He seemed a bit surprised at first, but hugged back quickly. "Don't worry," she whispered, "You'll get there."

Hazel could feel him nod against her hair. They sat down eventually, still holding each other, and talked. She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but she woke up in her bed the next morning, with his hoodie lying over her. She never ended up giving it back.

Hazel smiled at the memory. She had been right. They had gotten back to normal, to being happy even. It had just taken a bit of time.

The next sweatshirt she found was Leo's. This one didn't really have that big a backstory. She had been cold, and had seen a sweatshirt, in an atrocious shade of orange, lying in the mess room. She had taken it.

Leo had been a bit curious as to how she ended up with his sweatshirt, and was at first a bit worried about Frank killing him, but Hazel had assured him that his life wasn't in danger. As long as she could keep the sweatshirt. Needless to say, he had agreed.

She had a sweatshirt that belonged to Jason as well. It wasn't an SPQR sweatshirt, it was light blue (again, so cliché) and she had borrowed it from Piper at some point of time. Piper had told her to keep it, her closet was already half full with Jason's clothes. Hazel had been happy to oblige.

The last sweatshirt in her closet was Nico's. It was dark grey, and faded with use, but Hazel loved it. He had given it to her the day he had rescued her from the Underworld.

She had been freezing in her dress and after a couple of concerned looks, Nico had tossed her the sweatshirt that he had been wearing under his aviator jacket.

At first, she hadn't known what it was. Nico had laughed at that, but after seeing tears in her eyes and confusion all over her face, he had quickly apologized. He had explained just what a sweatshirt was and everything, but Hazel had still stared at him blankly. Eventually he had slipped it over her (it, just like the rest of the sweatshirts, nearly hit her knees), telling her that it would keep her warm. It had, and still did.

Alright, she had to admit, as she chose Jason's sweatshirt to pull over her T-shirt, maybe Feank and Nico were both equally to blame for her addiction to sweatshirts.

A/N thoughts? Thank you for reading :*