the boy who held up the sky

A/N: set at the end of the titan's curse. percabeth fanfiction, rick's property.

you're acutely conscious of his hands at your waist.

gods, his hands. slender, long-fingered, stubby nails. you know them so well - you've seen them fumbling with a bow, hurling javelins, wrapped deftly around the hilt of his sword. you've even felt their pressure on the small of your back, pulling you closer, moulding your body to his, that one time you hugged him.

and today, they held up the sky for you. bore the weight of the world so you wouldn't have to.

he saved you once then. he's saving you right now. you might be at camp now but the sky is still crushing you, and so he stays and helps you escape the memory of how you ran to rescue a boy who didn't give a shit about you. he spins you awkwardly around the dance floor and you stumble, burying your face in his shoulder, and it's easier here so you don't move away. you breathe in his scent and whisper thank you for coming -

and he says, of course i came, as if he never plans on doing anything else. and you tell yourself to tread carefully {people make promises they don't intend to keep. family, luke had said, that bastard} but somehow you can't help but believe him. maybe because he's the son of the sea, and the sea is permanent and infinite and the sea doesn't just leave - {but people do, even if you love them - }

you've heard the story of daedalus and his foolish son a thousand times over. in athena's cabin it's what passes for a bedtime story, a pretty little not-fable about the importance of wisdom, and you keep thinking about it as he steps gracelessly on your toes.

because if he is the sea, with his power and pride and his blue, blue eyes, then you must be icarus.

{and your wings melted a long time ago}