Annabeth quietly pressed herself closer into the sheets of the bed. She knew this was likely the last time she'd ever smell him. Her tears began to well up, but she pressed them back. He was gone. And now, she had to continue her life, stitch all the pieces of her that he had shattered apart back together. She closed her eyes and slipped into her sanctuary, oblivion.

Percy staggered up the road, dragging his feet up the steps of his house. He wanted his bed. No first he wanted Annabeth. Then he wanted food, a hot bath, and then his bed. But mostly Annabeth. In desperation he realized she would probably be with her family in San Francisco, thinking he was dead. He remembered the last time she'd thought that, and her anger that had come with it. He smiled as she thought of her angry face and the tears running down it. No matter what, she was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

He rang the doorbell, imagining his mom rushing down the stairs, wondering, hoping, that maybe her little boy had finally come home. He leaned against the wall of his house, listening to footsteps and a sudden gasp. The door flung open and he was in the arms of his mom, a little five year old. He was just so tired. His mother gently pulled him inside and her eyes widened at his ragged appearance.

"Sit down," she ordered and ran to the kitchen, presumably to stuff him with never ending amounts of food.

"Mom," he murmured. "Mom, where is Annabeth?" She froze, making Percy presume the worst had happened.

"Please," he breathed desperately, "where is she? Is she safe? Is she okay? You have to tell me."

His mother turned around with a slight smile on her face. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Percy blinked in confusion before, "She's here? Here?"

"Upstairs, your room."

Percy stared at her for a second, and she smiled knowingly. Then he bolted up the stairs, not even daring to believe it could be possible. In a dreamlike state he ran into his room and spotted a familiar head of golden curls.

"Annabeth," he breathed. He walked over to her and before he could touch her she woke. They stared at each other for a minute before she gave a small cry and launched herself at him the same time he reached for her. They tumbled down in a heap of limbs and their lips met.

They broke apart breathing hard, and he quietly moaned into her hair as she pressed herself to his chest, "wise girl."

She didn't move, but nestled herself even closer. He heard her whisper, "Percy. Percy am I dreaming?" He smiled in amusement, and kissed her forehead.

"If you are, I'm not letting you wake up okay?"

"Okay." She shifted slightly and he gasped in pain.

"Percy, you're hurt."

"Don't worry about it," he smiled reassuringly. He didn't want her to move away from him, he wanted to keep her tucked up against him like this forever. Almost as if she were reading his mind, she reached up and kissed him again, but then pulled away more firmly.

"No, you need to get clean. I'm not having my boyfriend come back from gods know where, only to die of some awful infection or hideous monster poison." She pushed him toward the shower. "Go I'll be right here."

"Wait I need clothes." Annabeth grinned in amusement and reached into a drawar, flinging a boxer at him.

"Here. I'll need to see you to patch you up right?" He rolled his eyes, and she laughed. He stared at her for a minute before turning towards the bathroom. He turned around again.

"Don't go anywhere, all right?"

"I'm not moving." She whispered.