"D'you remember the song we danced to on Olympus? The day Thalia was made lieutenant of the hunters?"

She looked at me then, her face bathed in the soft light of the setting sun. "Yeah." It was a question that appeared out of nowhere, but she answered all the same.

"It was a little sad. But maybe a little hopeful too."

I think she understood what I meant. "Yeah." She repeated. I threaded my fingers through her hair, laying my back against a tree and lifting my gaze upwards. Purple and pink covered the horizon, turning the sky into a blur of colours.

I revelled in the peace. It had been a while since I'd been able to just sit and do nothing with Annabeth.

Sometimes though, I'd feel something brush my shoulders and I'd look up, fingers twitching as they reached for a plastic ball pen, heat thumping as adrenaline coursed through veins – all of which was closely followed by relief mixed with a little disappointment when I realized nothing was there. And for a while I wouldn't know whether I preferred the rush of the war over moments like this. Her head shifted in my lap, fingers turning the page of a book.

"All we have, isn't it? Just a little willpower, and a little imagery. Amazing to think that's what stops us from throwing our swords down at the sight of the first Giant." Her head shifted again and I knew she was looking at me. "What's going through your head Seaweed Brain?"

"Isn't there supposed to be more to it than that?"

I could imagine her brows furrowing, eyes focused as they mulled over my words. "There is." Her voice was firm, resolved and convinced. "A better world, for starters. Family. Respect and pride, and peaceful little moments like these." I turned my head down and marvelled at how beautiful she looked, hair strewn about and grey eyes flashing. "Each other."

"That keeps us going?"

"It does."

"Our lives match the song." Her lips twitched at my words, curling upwards into a sort of self-depreciative smile, too desperate to be happy. "Sad and hopeful. Pathetic people pushed ahead by some grounding thought." I turned my eyes away from hers, choosing to study the campers at the bottom of the hill. A pissed off child of Ares cabin was screaming at an equally pissed off Athena kid. One of the Hecate demigods was running after her half-sibling, fingertips sparking.

A sudden realization hit me. 'They're just kids.' The lake rippled with unseen movement, making the canoers shriek with laughter as they tried to right themselves again.

"You're not okay." This was a statement, her voice pulling me out of my head. I watched a Demeter boy walk across the strawberry fields.

"Dylan's 9 years old." I'd seen him yesterday, eyes scared but determined as he sparred with one of his cabin mates, the sword looking like some huge ancient thing as it weighed his hands down. We hadn't yet found a balanced one for him. "Gods, they're kids Annabeth."

"I know."

Dylan's face appeared again in my mind's eye, in pain and close to tears but resolved. He'd broken his arm from a fall off the rock-climbing wall. The expression had troubled me at the time. Such a young face, used to being hurt and used to suppressing it. "They'll probably have to die on a battlefield somewhere because of some other petty feud."

Thunder boomed in the distance. I rolled my eyes. "Oh, shut up."

Annabeth brought her hand up to my cheek, meeting my gaze steadily. She looked cautious and tired, and – if I stared a little harder – the slightest bit scared. Guilt shot through me and left a bitter taste in my mouth. I'd sworn to myself I'd never make her worry.

"They won't die on a battlefield seaweed brain."

"And how's that wise girl?" My words came out sharper than intended, anger laced through them.

"Because they'll have you to help them."

"I'm not enough." She smiled at me, full and real this time.

"That's why you have me." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I snorted, chasing away the little bits of darkness that clung to me. She grinned up at me, grey eyes bright. "I'm definitely enough."

I answered her smile. "I wouldn't dare say otherwise." The sound of clashing metal reached my ears, commonplace and familiar. The Hermes cabin was having their sparring lessons. They usually ended in explosions and unidentifiable goo that covered the sparring grounds, courtesy of Travis and Connor. Laughter sounded from the ring as the youngest of the cabin mates fought each other.

"But…sometimes I remember how unfair it is." Annabeth's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if she was afraid she'd break the tranquillity of the afternoon. My own worries had started to trouble her.

"When is it ever?"

There was a laugh, but it wasn't a happy one. "What a bunch of pathetic counsellors we are." It's my turn to reassure her but it's a little harder this time, the earlier doubts seeping back in when they present themselves through her own.

"But remember what you said? We're the pathetic counsellors that keep them from dying." I meant for it to come out as a joke but it falls flat and just makes me frown. She averted her gaze from mine, laying the cover of the book flat with her palm. I started combing my fingers through her hair, untangling the nots that have formed and picking out the stray blade of grass. "Might as well try to do a good job of that."

"Grace turned 11 last week." Grace was the youngest camper in the Athena cabin, a girl who looked up to Annabeth and adored her. I'd found them in their cabin once, sharing a desk and poring over battle strategy plans for the next Capture the Flag game. There was no ambiguity over who would win that night.

"She shows a lot of promise. Not that good with a sword, but her archery's coming along fine." My fingers encountered another knot.

She kept turning her book over and over in her lap. "It suits her. Not one for the front-lines anyways, more of a strategy player." There's pride in her voice when she talks about Grace.

"She's getting along really well with Brian." Brian's a son of Aphrodite, a month younger than Grace – something she constantly teased him about. He reminded me of Selena sometimes in the way that he acted, confident but gentle enough to not come across as arrogant. "Kind of a strange pair. Makes me wonder if it'll work out."

"We were a strange pair but we turned out fine." She smiled at my words and I was struck dumb for the millionth time by how perfect she looked.

"But it took five years and a disgruntled satyr."

"That was only because you were in denial."

Her eyebrow arched up, a gesture that spelled out 'Oh really?'

"I mean, for someone as attractive as I am, that's pretty impressive." Annabeth laughed then, high and clear and I knew everything was alright. At least for a little while.

"Seaweed brain."

"Wise-girl."

"Kelp head."

"You talk to Thalia too much." I only get a giggle in response. There's a lapse in the conversation, the sound of clanging weapons and distant laughter filling the silence. Annabeth opened the book to the page she had stopped at and started reading again.

I threaded my fingers through her hair, enjoying the serenity of the moment. A thought crossed my mind, reminding me of shadows and an endless burning pit crawling with monsters.

I leaned against the tree, placing my free hand into the grass beside me. The ground is dry, but when I push hard enough I can feel moisture that comes from deep in the earth.

Slowly, gently, I strain and try to pull up the drops of water that are embedded in the dirt. There's a tug in my gut, and my ears start roaring. A few moments later I can feel water rising into the air, the ground cracking from the dryness. My eyes flicker over to my hand, at first noting that the water is still suspended in the air. The next thing I notice disturbs me for some reason, though I tell myself that I'm not being reasonable. The grass is brown and desiccated, an ugly scar that mars its otherwise green surroundings.

I drop the water, and turn my eyes away. The sight bothers me.

Annabeth shifts in my lap, flipping to the next page of her book. The words are in English, floating around the paper in dizzying circles. Its moments like these that I forget Annabeth is dyslexic too, considering the number of books she reads in both English and Greek and the occasional Latin.

I hum a bit, running my fingers through her hair and breathing in the strawberry shampoo she always uses. And then something comes over me, makes me close my eyes a little, concentrate a little more.

My hands come to a standstill. Her scalp feels warm under my palm, and if I concentrate deep enough I can feel something thrumming inside her, a constant buzz that makes something flow through her body. My vision swims and I can feel my eyes glaze over. It feels like all of my senses have been smothered, everything centred around Annabeth. I stop hearing the shouting and metal bashing, listening instead to a steady beat that sounds impossibly loud. My fingers twitch. I close my eyes, reaching down, barely aware of what I'm doing and what surrounds me. I can feel something coursing through Annabeth. It's a sort of liquid that seems sickeningly familiar, hot and pulsing, something that overloads every one of my senses. I pull. There's a tug in my gut, a roaring in my ears and then-

I jerked my hand away, the reality of what I was about to do slapping me in the face. I knew what the liquid was, what I had been about to do it, how stupid I had been. I had almost killed her, I had reached into her body and I had taken control of her heart and her blood, and I was about to pull until she'd turn into the dry brown dead grass that lay beside me, until droplets of something that wasn't water hung suspended in the air, until I had drained her, all because of a whim and an urge and a stupid idea. Even now there was an odd compelling to continue, to dig my hands into her head and pull.

All of a sudden I remembered a black sky and a weeping woman, a field of liquid poison and a throat filling up with tears.

"Percy?"

My eyes snapped open. Annabeth had turned to face me, book forgotten on her lap and expression concerned. "What happened?"

I tried to hide how badly my hands were shaking, removing them from her hair. "Nothing. It's all good." My grin fooled a lot of people, but Annabeth wasn't one of them. She'd see through it immediately.

As if she could read my mind, her eyes narrowed. "Don't do that. Not with me."

This was Annabeth, I reminded myself. She was never one to hide from. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." She flashed me a smile and I returned it. A real one this time. "Now, what is it?"

I met her gaze steadily. "I promise you, I will tell you." She didn't look away. "But not here. Not now. Not when we've had the first peaceful moment we've ever had in months."

Understanding lit her eyes. She nodded, quelling her curiosity and reserving it for later. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" I could hear the acceptance in her tone. "I'll always be here for you."

In response, I merely beamed and said, "Gods I love you."

Face tinged pink, she smiled and looked away muttering a Greek expletive under her breath. I poked her in the cheek, grinning at the blush. She went back to her book.

Carefully, I placed a hand in her hair, running my fingers through it. I could still feel something… I pushed it to the back of my head, leaving the worries for later. Right now, there was serenity and a blue sky and a bunch of armour-clad happy campers. For the first time in a long while I was content, and I wasn't about to let anything ruin it for me.

Even if something continued to hum in the back of my mind, a presence that demanded more than just wilted grass.

I ignored it and started to braid her hair.

I mostly made this for myself to curb the writing itch. Decided to just leave it here because why not.