Percy's head snapped up, waking him from deep sleep. His chest heaving as if he had just finished a long fight, he sat still, unblinking as his heart pounded. For a few moments he had been back in Tartarus, this time without Annabeth and he had done things he shouldn't have. Ever since they got back, the memories of controlling that which Annabeth insisted was not to be controlled haunted him nightly. The power was unbelievable when it came. He felt in control for once, not just a pawn in the idiot gods' games. The gods knew he was powerful, and they used him. Percy was sick of it, and he slipped into darkness often. Annabeth, as always, was his anchor. She held him back from falling into a abyss of self-hatred and all-consuming anger. But, even so, she had been scared of him when she saw what he could do. He didn't want to worry her.
They had slept together the first four months after Tartarus, Annabeth woke nightly in screaming fits, where she would thrash and shout for Percy, though he was right beside her. He would grab her arms and squeeze her into a tight hug, until her kicking stopped, and she woke up. Percy would whisper in her ear over and over, "I'm not letting go," and she would stop shaking after a while. Annabeth spent time wondering what Percy's nightmares were like, because he didn't offer much detail. A storm would just rise in his eyes and he would tell her that it was the usual replaying of their days back in the pit. He never woke her up, but only because his dreams petrified him, in contrast to Annabeth's uncontrollable fits. It seemed like Percy should be the one screaming, for he was the one of action, and Annabeth, our beloved silent sufferer, would endure the nightmares bravely and quietly, but perhaps it is a testament to how terrible their memories were that their entire characters were suppressed.
Finally, after about ten minutes of sitting straight up in his bed, silently and unmoving, Percy swung his legs off the bunk and felt his bare feet graze the cool floor. His joints popped as he stood up and pulled shorts over his boxer briefs and threw on a CHB shirt. He didn't check his pocket for Riptide. He knew it would be there.
Outside, it was pitch black, the night was cloudy and there were no stars to be seen. He walked by memory, rather than sight, to the gym that was a ten-minute trip from the Poseidon cabin. He used his key to unlock the door. Chiron had authorized late night trips. He knew what a workout could do for troubled heroes, and Percy doubted that he could cope without it. Once inside, he flipped the lights on and began running around the track for a little, warming up. Then, he grabbed a towel and a bottle of water and walked over to the large, grey punching bag with "Everlast" stamped on it in yellow, fading letters. Bending down, he grabbed his boxing gloves from where he left them two nights ago and put them on. He bounced on his toes, took a deep breath, and landed the first punch. The rattle of the chains suspending the bag echoed noisily around the otherwise silent room and he punched again, feeling his shoulders relax. There was nothing but him and the bag. No sounds, no gods, no people, no responsibilities. He punched again, and again, harder and harder until his back ached and his calves were screaming, and still he continued on. He liked the pain. He survived because of the pain. It made him feel human. It made him feel strong, but it was his own type of strong. He wasn't strong because of Poseidon, but because of himself and because of hard work. He thrived on the feeling of control. The sound of glove hitting bag echoed in his ears as a monotonous, steady, lullaby. He lost himself in it, but he never really had a moment of rest because some part of him was always expecting trouble. The door silently opened, but Percy was too battle hardened to let someone get the slip on him. In less than a second, the room was filled with the slight glow of celestial bronze as he had uncapped Riptide in a split second and was looking around the room with wild eyes for the perpetrator.
"Woah there, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth held her hands up in surrender.
"Hey," he sighed, capping Riptide and sinking to the floor. He was out of breath from his workout and Annabeth tossed a towel on him.
"Wipe yourself down, you look like you just went swimming and I am firmly against snuggling with a soaking wet person," she laughed softly.
He tried to laugh too, but it didn't work too well, so he opted for silence as he dried himself off.
She dropped down next to him and handed him a clean shirt. He pulled his off, revealing his well-toned, well-tanned midsection that made Annabeth blush every time she saw it. After tossing the soaked orange shirt to the corner by his now discarded gloves, he slipped the grey one Annabeth had brought over his head.
Percy took a deep breath, and said again, "Hey."
This time he managed his signature crooked, troublemaker smile that melted Annabeth and she leaned his way and planted a soft kiss on his lips.
"Hey."
"What are you doing awake?" He asked her as she shifted so she was laying in between his legs with her head resting on his stomach, as his sat propped up on his arms.
"Really, I could ask you the same thing," Annabeth said.
"Couldn't sleep," said Percy shortly.
"Nightmares?" She turned around and looked in his eyes, searching for truth.
"Yes, but don't worry, it comes with the territory. I'm fine, just didn't want to go back to sleep."
She settled back down, but made a disapproving noise, "Why didn't you come get me?"
"And wake the whole Athena cabin? And get 'the talk' from Malcom?" He laughed, then softly added, "And worry you?"
She turned herself around again, and crossed her legs, then gently took Percy's face in her hands. Normally, this would lead to him leaning down and kissing the daylights out of her, but this time, he just met her eyes in a steady gaze. Her fingers were cold, and he was still sweating, but her touch alone soothed his irritated nerves…. a little.
"Annabeth, babe, I love you, and I'm fine."
Her face hardened a little, "Come on, Percy. You know I'm not stupid."
Percy opened his mouth to respond that he was, in fact, not insinuating that she was, but Annabeth raised a hand to stop the words from coming out of his mouth.
"Stop. You're treating me like I'm some fragile princess and you're the strong, manly warrior. We have never done that. You know I can hold my own, and maybe you forgot," her voice broke slightly, and she paused, irritated, before starting again, "but I was there too. I saw what you went through. And I know you better than anyone. Anyone, Percy! And you do not get to shut me out. I did not miss you like I did to get you back and miss you again. Speak to me! Nothing you say could possibly make me love you less. I'm never letting go, Seaweed Brain."
She reached her hands up again to run them through his sweaty hair and he let a shaky breath out. He knew that she could handle it. He knew that she would gladly carry the burden of his desperate need for control, but he didn't want to give it to her. She didn't do anything to deserve his pain. He protected his loved ones, and sometimes, he thought bitterly, you have to protect them from yourself.
"Wise Girl, I'm fine. Really. Some battles are mine alone. The nightmares don't last long. They go away, and I'm normal, stupid Percy again."
"Shut up, Percy! Do you not see what this is doing to me?" She didn't stop when the tears came this time, "You are locking me out. You are the only person I have. You alone know what happened in that place and you refuse to talk about it! I am drowning because you are trying to be strong! I am swallowing it because you are, and we are stuck in a cycle of mutual destruction. When have we minced words, Percy Jackson? Not from the day we met. We are honest with each other about everything. Please let me know I'm not alone in hurting. I still wake up screaming and all I want is me up, only the other way around. I felt bad. Let me know you're hurting too! I am so alone, Percy! Why are you stranding me?"
She tried to control her breathing, but was crying too hard, and something in Percy snapped. He abandoned the one good thing in his life. He made himself an island when help was ten paces away in the Athena cabin.
Annabeth had never seen Percy cry before. She'd seen tears, yes, but cry? Never. His whole body shook as tears fell down his face and he leaned into Annabeth, letting months of pain and hopelessness express itself in the form of heartbroken sobs. It tore at her soul, hearing his anguished cries.
"Annabeth, I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to protect you from me. You're the only good thing in my life and I didn't want to dump it all on you. I wanted to keep you as the good part of me. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he continued apologizing into her shoulder and she rubbed his back, tears streaming down her face too.
"Perce, it's ok, it's fine. I love you so much."
He pulled back and looked at her, controlling himself before speaking again, "There's a part of me that scares me. When I was drowning Misery, it felt good. And I crave that, Annabeth, I crave the feeling I got when I was choking her in my pain!"
A sob escaped his throat and he continued, though his voice broke often, "That terrifies me Annabeth! Who am I? Not the boy my mother raised, and not the boy you fell in love with! I don't deserve you!"
He trailed off again, sitting in the silence for a moment, "I'm scared of who I am. I hate who I have been forced to become. I am hailed as a hero, but at what costs?"
Annabeth wanted to lean into him and cry, but she knew he didn't need that. He needed strong Annabeth, and she could supply. She would cry later.
"Percy, look at me. You are eighteen and have been thrown into situations that would destroy the greatest heroes. You have survived. You have survived for me. You have survived for your mother, for Grover, for each and every confused and scared young demigod out there. You are a beacon of hope for our world. And what you are feeling, is the pressure of greatness. You were both born great, and had greatness thrusted upon you, and you are struggling to handle it. Oh my gods is that understandable! Here's the deal, Seaweed Brain. Your shoulders are broad, and you can handle a lot, but you don't have to. You can give some of your burden to me, and give some of it to your mom, and you can throw off the weight you have! We don't mind. We want it. We see you hurting, Percy. Let us help, babe."
He enveloped her in his strong arms and kissed he on the lips, gently, then harder, with an incredible thirst, like he was sick and she was the cure. He tasted like salt, whether it be from the sea, his tears, or his sweat, she didn't know, but it made her tingle all the way to her toes. Her hands tangled in his jet-black hair, and she never wanted to stop, but Percy pulled away and before she could protest, he smiled at her. His real, full on smile, that showed his dimples and made him look like a four-year-old on Christmas.
"Let's go swimming, Annabeth."
He could've said that they should jump into a volcano and her response would've been the exact same, "Let's go."
He swooped her up into his arms and she laughed, secretly loving how he made her feel so soft and small, so girly, even though she prided herself on her warrior status.
Out the door of the gym they went, and Percy ran to the beach and tossed her in.
"Seaweed Brain!" She shrieked, "I am going to get you!"
He pulled off his shirt and grinned cheekily, "Oh really? Come and get it, Wise Girl."
She shook her head at his antics, then pulled her shirt off too, to reveal her sports bra, and tossed her soaking t-shirt onto the shore before approaching her boyfriend.
He stood up straight, relaxed posture, and Annabeth did too, walking closer to him, untying her hair from the ponytail, combing her hands slowly through her "princess curls".
"Is that supposed to distract me, Chase?" he folded his arms in front of his bare chest as she replied.
"No, why? Is it distracting?" she was about a foot from him now, so close that she could see, for the first time in months, the sparkle in his eyes that made her want to laugh.
"Absolutely, but I think I can handle it." He took a step back and she darted forward, sweeping her leg out in a low fan kick, knocking his feet out from under him and he landed on the sand with a grunt.
"Nice," he chuckled, as she pressed her forearm into his neck, "but we're too close to my part of the world."
So, Percy Jackson used his powers for the first time in ages without feeling guilty, and the sea reached out and gently picked his beautiful girlfriend up.
"Ok, so not fair," she huffed with a smile on her lips.
"What?" he gave her puppy dog eyes, "I said let's go swimming, not play 'Annabeth beats Percy up to remind him who's really in charge'. So, let's go swimming!"
And with that, Annabeth was tossed into the water and floundered for a few moments, bubbles clouding her vison, before she felt firm arms grab her waist and drag her down towards the bottom. An air bubble enveloped them and Annabeth had a sense of déjà vu, taking her back to the best day of her life.
"If you had waited five more seconds I would've passed out." She said, fake grumpily.
"I forget you can't breathe down here sometimes." He gathered her up into his arms and whispered to himself "Best Underwater Kiss of All Time Part 2?"
But Annabeth heard and giggled, "Oh my gosh, you named our kiss?"
"Heck yeah, Wise Girl. That was the best day of my life." He sighed and Annabeth thought she might burst with joy.
"I was just thinking that too."
His breath ticked her ear as he said, "Although, I swear that every time I see you, all brain function flies out the window and the moment you say my name, wherever we are, that day becomes my new best day."
She was never letting go.