Percy saw it all by the glow of a few streetlights. He saw her stumble alone out of the back door of some dimly lit bar. He saw her giggling hysterically, so drowsy she collapsed on to the ground. He saw her flail her limbs wildly, her poor coordination and decreased alertness evident. He saw her give him one confused glance. He saw her face fall.

"...P-Percy? I'm so sorry...I couldn't tell that was you...blur-blurred vision..." Annabeth slurred.

They were both quiet. Slowly, Percy walked over to her, expressionless. He sat down, and propped her up so that she was leaning on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry...you...I never wanted you to see me...see me like this..." She murmured. "I never wanted you to see...see me like this again."

There was a long pause as Percy waited for Annabeth to regain her speech. It used to take her forever after she got drunk to form a coherent sentence. The time had gotten significantly shorter with experience.

"O-okay," she finally answered with a shuddering breath. "I'm good."

"Annabeth?" Percy asked, his voice detached, frighteningly calm. "What are the effects of alcohol?"

She grumbled. "Don't preach to me, Jackson."

"What are the effects of alcohol?" He repeated coldly.

"A great buzz."

"Chase."

"The best feeling in the world."

"Chase."

"Being magically, incredibly, amazingly high."

"Chase."

"Getting so drunk you forget your best friend is decomposing."

"Annabeth!"

Percy's anger quickly evaporated, but Annabeth still flinched at the fury in his voice. They were silent for long moment. They could hear the sound of bubbly laughter inside the bar, and cars rushing by, and rain falling gently. They heard the sound of their own breathing, in and out, in and out. They listened for a while.

"One hundred to two hundred billion dollars per year in related crimes, medical bills, and injuries." Annabeth mumbled. "One hundred fifty thousand deaths per year. Families suffer from uncertainty, embarrassment, and abuse." Annabeth didn't look up at Percy, just spoke as if no one was listening.

Percy didn't say anything to her, just waited.

"Risks includes being injured in car crashes, committing or being a victim of violence, or problems in later life." Her voice was barely audible.

"Alcohol gets into the bloodstream within minutes of consumption. It interferes with the liver's ability to metabolize fats. Fat-filled liver cells die, leaving behind useless scar tissue. This disease, cirrhosis, can lead to liver failure or death."

A car rushed by, its blinding yellow headlights illuminating their inky street for a few seconds before disappearing into the darkness.

"Alcohol causes an increase in heart rate and blood pressure, sluggish reflexes, higher volume of water loss, unclear sensations and perceptions, a decrease in core body temperature, and impaired coordination."

Annabeth took a deep breath before continuing shakily.

"Long term alcohol abuse destroys nerve cells in the brain, which can't regrow. Loss of several nerve cells causes permanent changes that...impair the ability to concentrate, the ability to make sound judgements, and memory."

"The daughter of Athena, unable to concentrate, make sound judgements, or memorize anything," Percy murmured. "Doesn't sound right, do you think?"

"Gods," Annabeth choked out, bolting up and grabbing Percy's shoulders.

"Thalia's gone, and now I'm going too." Before he knew what was happening, Annabeth pulled him into a hug and he was overwhelmed by the familiar smell of Annabeth - alcohol, but also dusty old books and pencil shavings and sadness.

They listened to the sound of each other breathing. In and out, in and out.