It's not like each day things get harder; they always are. That's just something that I've learned to live with. What makes those days hard is what's wearing me down right now.
Today it's the same as it was the first day we realized he was gone. Sometimes I catch myself having totally disconnected from everything and everyone around me, praying to the gods to deliver him back to me safely. Then I remember its they who've done this and it makes me angry all over again. Add that to the list of things I've been repressing for months.
I know he's not dead. At least that's what I tell myself whenever I think about him too much. Nico would tell me if he was. I think.
The only reason anyone keeps up a pretense of looking for him is because of me. I've always had a dedication to solving problems and I've never wanted to solve something so badly. But I can tell that some of the others think it's hopeless and a lot of them have doubts. Right now I can't afford to think like that; not when we are on the cusp of a war that will be even worse than the last one. Something has to keep me going.
I remember joking with him when we found out about the prophecy of seven. We had certainly been through enough at that point that we thought this wouldn't be about us. Stupidly, we thought that this would be a problem for some other generation, but not us. And then the gods, who had promised to be somewhat more kindly to their demigod children, ripped us apart.
Sometimes I think that the gods deserved what happened to them. With Luke I mean. In the rare moments I have to myself these days, when I allow myself to feel everything I'm trying to repress, my anger blazes. Luke's hatred was aimed towards his father, but mine is more general. I would never act on it the way Luke did, but I think now I understand it more. At the time I thought I knew, but I had Percy to help me stay grounded and to help me through the grief. I don't have that right now.
Leo is working as fast as he can to build the ship and pretty much everyone else is gearing up for war, but all I want to do is get out of here and find him as soon as possible. I have to wait until the right time; I have to wait until the summer. But that doesn't stop me from going to check on the progress of what Leo is dubbing the Argo II at least once a day. When asked about my obsessive interest I just make an excuse about how I'm interested in the mechanics, but I think they know it's a lie.
Maybe they remember what I was like when we thought Percy was dead after the labyrinth. What I wouldn't give to have that day when he came back to me. What I wouldn't give to have him back now.
Now is one of the rare moments I have to myself in which I just wallow. I amble through the forest and play through all the different scenarios I've come up with about what it will be like to be with him again. To see him again, his smile, his eyes.
But it's not all longing and sadness that I'm trying to repress. I'm trying to keep out all the good things as well because those are just as hard to remember. That's what makes the sadness all the harder to bear. Though when I come across the creek I can't help but smile at the memory of his first capture the flag, which begins a torrent of memories that I've saved for whenever I need them most. I may not want them there all the time, but at least I have them for times like this.
I also have a picture of us that I keep with me. I'm not exactly sentimental, and we didn't take a lot of photos in the months before his disappearance, but sometimes I just need to see it because memories aren't always enough. I stop walking and look at the picture; not really seeing it or thinking about anything in particular. Sometimes I need some silence in my own head.
That didn't keep me from staying alert, however. I hear footsteps before I see who it is, so I tuck the photo back into my pocket and wipe all emotion off my face, to be stored for another time. Moments later I catch sight of red frizzy hair peeking through the trees.
"Annabeth?" Rachel calls. She looks around before spotting me by the creak. I walk to meet her. It was probably her spring break from Clarion Academy or something already because she hadn't had a lot of time to visit camp the past few months.
"Hey," she said, smiling slightly. Despite my best efforts to conceal what I am feeling, Rachel has an annoying knack for being able to see through my front. It isn't often and I have become a much better actress, but I can tell that right now she knows how vulnerable I am.
"Hey," I say back, not supplying anything by way of conversation. That was another skill I had come to master: saying only as much as needed.
She sighed; whether out of frustration or something else I didn't know. People liked to sigh at me. It had started with my step-mom and just continued as I got older. I knew Rachel didn't mean anything by it, but sighs like the ones I used to get when I was little just served to foster negative feelings. But at the moment I had too many of those to really care.
"Walk with me," she said, nodding her head in the general direction that would lead us back to camp. I didn't say anything as I fell into step next to her. She didn't try to supply any conversation, either, which I was glad of. Rachel had gotten good at that since becoming the Oracle. Probably to help add to the whole "being mysterious" thing.
We continued in silence for about a quarter mile until the ring of cabins came into view. Rachel stopped abruptly and I turned around to face her. "We're going to find him," she started, looking at me imploringly. I was tired of people telling me that. How long had we been searching without so much of a sign of him?
"Forgive me if I'm a little less than hopeful," I replied curtly in an effort to stave off further discussion of this topic; but Rachel was not to be swayed.
"Wanna know how I know?" she asked, maintaining her same imploring tone.
"Sure." My exasperation was apparent. Cynicism was quickly becoming my new best friend.
"He's one of the seven. If he were to die, it wouldn't be now. The time isn't right." That shocked me. No one had dared suggest the possibility of Percy's death in front of me. I always thought that if they tried, I would retaliate in some violent manner, like with a dagger to the throat or something. But I wasn't prepared to acknowledge the fact, either, and her naming it made it a real possibility in my head.
She was also right. I crossed my arms in front of me. Just because I thought she was right didn't mean that I had to admit it. That was my hubris at work.
It seemed like hours passed while I stood with my arms cross, a glare plastered to my face, and Rachel's just as hard set. Eventually, I broke the silence. "Does everyone just expect me to forget the fact that he's gone?" My tone was more heated than it needed to be, especially when Rachel was just being honest with me. No one else was trying to do that.
"No," she replied flatly. I thought that was going to be it, until she continued, "But you need to be a leader for everyone. Someone has to fill the void Percy left and honestly you're doing a pretty half-assed job." Again, shock. Damn Rachel having to be damn right. Better to admit it now rather than add it to the list of things I am already angry about.
"I've been acting like a whiny, love-sick teenager, haven't I?" I unfolded my arms and stopped glaring at her. It wasn't her fault. I knew who was at fault and I shouldn't be mad at Rachel. She was just trying to snap me out of Angry Annabeth mode.
She smiled again, but this time it was a real smile. "Love-sick, yes. Whiny, no," but then as an afterthought added, "Well, maybe a little." I stuck my tongue out at her but she did manage to get me to smile the tiniest bit.
"Now come on," she said, leading the way to the Big House. "Chiron wants to see you." I followed her, feeling somewhat lighter and also more determined.