"For whatever we lose (like a you or a me) it's always ourselves we find in the sea."
- E. E. Cummings
It is everywhere, its presence. The darkness. Oppressing, pushing down on her. She has no oxygen, there is no oxygen, and her lungs are fighting for air, her heart is beating furiously, rapidly, in a mad frenzy of sheer panic. She is drowning in her fear.
She is suffocating.
She claws and kicks blindly, trying to fend off something that is not quite there but at the same time just is. Her brain, who used to be an ally, now plays tricks on her, and she can no longer distinguish reality from hallucinations. Not like this.
She is screaming herself raw, but she has a feeling she is not heard at all.
She believes she has fallen so deep, and now she can't seem to escape this prison, this hell that is her mind.
Annabeth is lost.
But not alone.
A pair of long arms wrap around her, and she can feel their warmth spreading through her stone cold body. She tenses, expecting yet another attack, but it never comes. Instead, she can feel a warm breath on her cheek that is ticklish, reassuring.
Slowly she opens her eyes.
The moon's pale light is covering everything in a ghostly, silvery glow, making even the most common things seem, somehow, to be in possession of something mysterious and ethereal. The bright green eyes in front of her are no exception.
She holds her breath and his intense gaze at the same time. He keeps her arms around her, for a moment not daring to move.
Then Percy's hands slowly trail down her spine, coming to a stop on her waist. A shiver runs down Annabeth's body while she takes her time to calm down and let her breathing slow.
She nuzzles her head under Percy's chin, and kisses his throat in a quiet sign of gratefulness. Percy closes his eyes, pleased by her gentle affection.
Their fingers lace together as they both sit up. Annabeth's messy bun finally comes undone as golden ringlets cascade down her shoulders.
They exit the Poseidon cabin silently, taking care to avoid the creaking steps outside, not saying anything but thinking of much.
The sea is their destination, as it always is. Annabeth has never quite mentioned it, but she likes to be there because it shares a strong connection to Percy, who always seems to be more relaxed in its presence.
They take their blankets from their hiding places with accustomed ease, leaving imprints on the pale sand in their wake.
It is not the first time they had done this, and they are sure it will not be their last. It has proven to be an unfaultable therapy, and one which they had recently discovered.
Annabeth's voice breaks into the quiet night, whose only sounds come from the waves crashing against the shore and the occasional growl from the woods.
"I remember this one line of a poem I read long ago," she murmurs while trying to keep her voice down, the beach having triggered some distant memory. Even so, she is surprised at how very loud her voice seems.
Percy's lips curl upwards in a half-smile, as if it could not be any other way.
Without waiting for a response, she quotes, almost to herself, "'For whatever we lose (like a you or a me), it is always ourselves we find in the sea.'" She remembered reading the poem when she was fourteen, when she had come back from the Labyrinth without Percy. She had memorized it because she thought it shared an uncanny connection to him, even though she could not quite put her finger on how.
They exchange a glance before extending one of the blankets the same way they did when on the stables, just three weeks ago.
Percy stares up into the sky, his eyes reflecting the star's glow in all their splendor. For a brief moment, Annabeth is reminded of a memory that seems to be from so very long ago instead of just two years.
"Remember when I had to ask you out for the fireworks?" Her eyes have a mischievous glint, so Percy knows she is teasing him. But even so, he can't help but groan at the awkward reminder.
"Yeah, well, I-" His face felt hot.
Annabeth raises an skeptic eyebrow. "You were kind of slow at getting the hints, you know?" she ventures coyly. She pokes him, though, urging him to continue talking.
"I'm glad you did, honestly," Percy blurts.
"And at the forges on the Labyrinth?" Annabeth volunteers.
Percy chuckles and kisses her lips gently. He then murmurs against them, "That, too."
Annabeth nods sagely. "Your expression was priceless, Seaweed Brain," she intones with the most serious tone she can muster.
Percy snorts. "You looked as if you were going to punch me! I thought-"
"I was, as a matter of fact-"
Before Annabeth can continue, Percy shoots back: "Remember when you hated Rachel?"
Now it is Annabeth's turn to look flustered. She huffs in annoyance when she sees her boyfriend's smug expression.
At this, Percy throws back his head and laughs. Annabeth can't help but follow his example.
The crashing of the waves against the shores begins to lull them into a sense of security, and Annabeth's gaze then wanders into the sea, which she believes is the same hypnotizing shade of green as Percy's eyes.
An immense feeling of calm washes over the young couple. Annabeth places her head in the crook of Percy's neck, who hums contentedly. At the same time, the omnipresent presence of sleep claims them both once again, this time into a peaceful slumber.