Unfortunately, today was going to be one of those days. Percy Jackson was checking to see if his wife, Annabeth was awake or not, when she woke up. She decked him on the jaw then shrunk away further from him, clutching the covers with her grey eyes wide in panic. The same grey eyes that once pierced into his heart when she said she loved him. He sighed, then started his usual introductions about how she had lost her memories due to a car accident 2 years into their marriage. After a while she stopped shaking, but the fear is still clear in her eyes. Percy's heart broke a little at the sight, just like it did when he first discovered that she would forget everything since the summer of college, including him. He decided this would be a good time to stop, to prevent frightening her even more.
"Annabeth, let's get you dressed and then I'll explain more, okay?" He cooed gently. Slowly, she nodded and looked around the room frantically in search for her clothes. When she spotted her side of the closet labelled "ANNABETH" in big, bold letters, her shoulders slumped in relaxation, and she looked at him in confrontation. Percy nodded in understanding and moved out of the room for her to change in privacy.
His heart tightened slightly as he remembered a time where he could be in there with her, laughing and hugging and kissing and just generally loving her, but in there with her. He let his head drop on the door, his hands clutched tightly in until his nails were cutting into his skin. He looked at his hands. They look the same as they had when they were still together; it was still the same pair of hands used to swallow up her hand as they strolled around the streets, the same pair of hands that could caress her cheek and hair whenever he wanted, and she would smile at the touch. Everything was reminding him of how things weren't as they used to be, and he felt his throat closing up and-
"Percy?" Her shy voice cut through his memories. He plastered on a brave, confident face for her, turned around and… almost broke down again. She was wearing one of his t shirts, paired with the jeans they had got on their first anniversary shopping trip. His arms turned tense where he was restraining himself from the need to envelop her in his arms, to breath in her special scent and pretend everything was alright. That she remembered him and know him and loved him. That she remember their only children, soon to be two, and didn't deny it. On extremely bad days, she would refuse to acknowledge that Wes was hers simple because of his black hair. On those days he would call his office, pretend that he was sick, then spend the rest of the day convincing Annabeth otherwise. It's almost been a full year since the accident, and the doctors said that she was showing no improvement.
"Hey." Her voice jarred him out of his memories, "You okay?" He smiled at her sweetly even if his eyes were a little misty.
"M'fine. Come," he said, beckoning her to the nursery. There's still a little doubt in her eyes, but they've mostly disappeared. Opening to door to the nursery, Percy is hit again with a new wave of emotion, but he swallowed it down. Wes is awake, and mumbling his gibberish to beckon his mom. He watched Annabeth's expression carefully, thankful they turned soft instead of twisting up in confusion.
"Can I hold him?" She asked softly.
Percy resisted the urge to tell her that, of course you can, it's your own child, but told her instead : "Go ahead."
Watching Annabeth interact with Wes the same way she had when he was first born, He relaxed.
She was fine. He was fine. They were fine. It hurts, but they'll be okay.