A/N: Hello to anyone reading! Honestly I've been out of the PJO loop for a very long time, and I'm not even sure if this is still a thing that people use? This is the first thing I've written in over two years, so I'm kind of using this as a way to get back into writing. I'm a bit rusty, so any constructive criticism you can leave me would be very much appreciated, all reviews are welcome!

Please note in my version of the story, they did not move to New Rome, and Tartarus was probably a bit more intense than it was in the book.

I hope you all enjoy!

All your life, you've had trouble accepting the bad with the good. The second something goes wrong, you prepare for the end. It's just how you've lived. But that's until you're living with Percy, and you realize even the worst fights are worth it for what you have with him. Through ever single fight, you love him, and wouldn't have it any other way.

There's highs, like the time you forced him to go grocery shopping with you. He whined like a little kid when you dragged him out of bed early ("The store will still be there at a decent human time, Annabeth!" "You don't know that!") You usually do it yourself, since Percy isn't too aware of the existence of brands.

"What difference does it make?" he would say, after the few times you gave him a grocery list and he came back with all cheap store-brand items. Not that there's anything wrong with store brand, you're just very particular about what tastes the best. And when he handed you a box of extra chunky cardboard tampons, you just stared at him.

You're getting really sick of shopping though, and it's inconvenient to have only one person who knows how to stock your apartment with food. So you insist on him coming along, partially to train him and partially because doing domestic stuff like this with him makes you feel good and human, which is probably your favorite feeling in the world.

Percy immediately goes for the freezer section, picking out ice creams and frozen chicken nuggets that make you wince. You tell him not to get Tyson chicken, but he's got his heart set on dinosaur nuggets and can't find another brand selling them. To get revenge, you put your favorite dessert in the cart instead of his. He frowns and fakes a gag when he sees the black raspberry ice cream sitting there.

"I'm breaking up with you." He says, shaking his head. You just smile and pat his shoulder. Eventually he begs you to add a carton of cookies and cream as well, and it's not a battle worth fighting.

"Why am I dating an 8-year-old?" You say, rolling your eyes like you're annoyed, but honestly, you're kind of having fun with him there. He winks and kisses your cheek in reply.

The snack aisle doesn't go much better. Percy tries to put 4 boxes of the most sugar-filled cereals into the cart. That's another thing that drives you crazy about Percy doing the shopping—he forgets half the necessities and just comes home with a shit ton of junk food. Luckily, you're around to reign him in and tell him to pick one box. ("Okay, mom.")

Percy pushes the cart because you drove here, and that's his attempt of balance in the relationship. It works in his favor though, because every time he turns into an empty aisle, he pushes off the ground and stands on the bottom bar of the cart, letting him fly past the endless walls of cereal boxes and canned goods. His wide smile fills you with warmth, and he looks adorable with one leg out like a figure skater, but you're overprotective and don't want the cart to topple over on him.

"You're gonna fall and crack your head open," you warn, but he rolls his eyes, taking off again.

"Learn to live a little, Annabeth, would you?" he says, teasing.

"Seriously? You fought two wars and thousands of monsters, but want your obituary to say 'death by shopping cart'? Super heroic."

He steps down, and you love him.

There's lows, like the time you started a new project at work that dominated your time. You love your job- working at an architecture firm makes you feel like you're living your dream. Percy is happy for you, but never understands why you throw your entire self into whatever you're working on. You always put 110% into every project—you can't help it.

Your newest project is particularly demanding. The client is a jackass, but a well-known and rich jackass. You're honored to be chosen for it, even if it makes you want to tear your arms off twenty times a day.

Percy is concerned, but he leaves you be. He notices you're barely sleeping, barely eating, barely even talking to him. A few times you fall asleep at your desk, but you wake up in your bed next to him. Percy doesn't say much about it, just gently reminds you to take care of your basic needs before the design. The design element of the project—the most demanding part—usually only lasts a few days, and then Percy gets you back.

This project, however, has been going on for over a week and has showed no signs of slowing down. You start to catch Percy glaring at you while you're hunched over your sketchbook, but immediately stops when he sees you look over.

He holds his tongue for a few more days before his patience starts to ware. "You're still working on that building?" he says, walking in home from his work.

"Yep." you reply, still drawing.

"Any idea when it'll be done?"

"Not sure. It's gotta be perfect."

He starts talking about something—you kind of tune it out. Something about putting too much pressure on yourself. You can't focus on what he's saying- you just had a great idea for the main entrance to the building.

"Could you like… pay attention to me, Annabeth?" Percy snaps.

You look up at him, annoyed. "What? I'm busy right now, okay? I just need more time."

"You've been at it for days, nonstop! I just miss you."

"I know," you soften. "But just a few more days. I promise." Percy considers this, and figures it's the best he's going to get.

He gently kisses your cheek and says, "Don't forget about dinner tomorrow, okay? At that nice restaurant you like."

"Dinner. Got it. I won't forget."

You forget.

Your head and your hands are working so furiously you don't have time to consider anything except what's right in front of you. The building. You're so close and it's almost just right, but there's still a few things that need to be fixed. All the answers are just beyond your reach—you're almost there!—and you don't dare look away for even a minute, or it could all just slip away. Concentrating with your ADHD is hard, so once you're in the swing of things, you have to keep moving. It isn't you hear the door slam and see a furious Percy walk in, his hands raised in a what-the-hell gesture that you realize something is wrong.

You tilt your head. Were you supposed to pick him up or something? Or—shit. Dinner. You feel horrible, but you really did need the time to work.

"Really, Annabeth?" Percy spewed. You're not sure what to say, so you just look at him, hoping you don't look as guilty as you feel.

"I'm sorry, I really am, I just had this great idea and it totally slipped my mind that—"

"Do you have any idea how sick I am of third-wheeling with you and your sketchbook?"

That comment makes you angry. This is your job! Sometimes work has to come first. You tell him that, and that's when things start to spiral. Whenever you fight with Percy, what starts off as bickering over one small thing turns into a war about everything you've ever disagreed on.

Soon it goes from you working too hard, to Percy not working enough. Then that branches off into whose job is more important, which turns into who pays more bills. It's ugly and you hate fighting with him, but your pride makes it too hard to back off. The bills turn into who cleans more, which then goes to who does more for the other person, and ultimately ends at Percy saying, "Do you even care about me anymore?"

This stops the fight dead in its tracks. You know that he knows the answer, or at least, you think he does until you meet his eyes and see the uncertainty. You didn't mean for it to go this far- you never do. You let all the anger that has swelled up in your chest out, in one deep exhale. You're not mad anymore, and from the looks of it, neither is Percy—he's just hurt. You don't even care about the building anymore, you just want Percy on your side again.

"That's the dumbest question you've ever asked, Seaweed Brain, and there's been quite a few. Of course I do." You tell him, softly. He wraps his arms around you, and you do the same. It feels much better than completing some stupid building ever could (you'll still finish it, of course, just… not right now).

Percy closes your sketchbook, and you love him.

There's more highs, like the time the AC went out in your apartment on a sweltering hot day. The 90 degree heat wakes you up, covered in a thin layer of sweat. It doesn't help the situation that Percy's asleep practically on top of you with his arms tangled around your waist, suffocating you even more. Usually you love cuddling with him like this, but certainly not when it's so hot you can feel your skin melting.

Percy calls to have the AC repaired, but apparently it's happening all over the city, and they can't come until tomorrow which leaves you and Percy to go about your business around the apartment in nothing but your underwear.

It's Sunday- cleaning day- which you heavily enforce. Laying on the couch being miserable won't do any good, so you drag Percy up to help you clean the kitchen. You wash and he dries dishes, the way the routine always goes. This isn't the first time you've cleaned virtually naked with Percy—a lot of the times you all are too lazy to get dressed (and being able to see you in your underwear is a good motivator for Percy to help out).

The radio is on and Percy is humming along with some annoying pop song. His eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration, making sure he doesn't forget to dry any spots. You've scolded him for that once before, when all the dishes he put away came out later with a mildew smell.

"Really, Percy? A son of Poseidon can't dry dishes? Just evaporate the water or something!"

"It doesn't work like that!"

The song switches to one slightly more tolerable, so you join Percy in his rendition. What starts out as humming turns into belting the words while Percy harmonizes. He glances over at you and grins. Neither of you are very good, but your voices complement each other, so everything flows and it sounds kind of nice. The song switches a few times, but the two of you go along, unfazed.

You'll admit it—the dishes go a bit neglected. Before you know it, you're not standing by the sink but instead in the middle of the kitchen, being twirled in circles by Percy. Dancing isn't on your list of talents, either, but it comes easy with him. It's just simple swing dancing, and you're able to stay loose while he leads. It feels like the most natural thing in the world- just the two of you dancing around the kitchen in your underwear.

You've almost forgotten about the broken AC. Almost. Soon you're drenched in sweat and breathing so heavy you have to stop. You'd think after drinking literal fire in Tartarus you'd be able to take a little heat, but apparently not. Percy raises his eyebrows, amused.

"Overheating?" he asks, teasingly. You glare at him, but nod. "I can help with that."

Before you can ask what he's talking about, the faucet on the sink explodes, completely dousing you with water. The spray lasts a few seconds, and once it's died down, you can see Percy doubling over in laughter. You shoot him a deadly look, making him laugh even harder.

It does cool you down, though, and you love him.

The lowest moment was the time Percy was so haunted by memories and flashbacks he could hardly function. You both have days like this, but you're not used to him shutting you out. He usually tells you what he's seeing and you try to help. You reassure him that he's alive and you're alive and you're together and it's alright. But he isn't giving you the chance today. He isn't acknowledging you at all, not even when he's kneeling over the toilet and you sit there rubbing his back, muttering that you love him.

You're relieved to finally hear his voice, even if it's just five words. Going to get some air. You don't like the idea of him leaving in that condition, but he needs to step out for a few minutes. As a few minutes turn into a few hours you try not to panic, not letting yourself think about how dangerous it is for a half-blood like him to wander around alone at night—especially in the state he's in. You leave the building a few times to check for him, but he's nowhere in sight.

The clock strikes 3 a.m. and you feel like throwing up. You're used to going to sleep pretty early, but there's no way you can rest when Percy's out there somewhere, not next to you in bed with his arms wrapped around your waist. That's where he belongs. You want to go out and look for him, but it's too dangerous. There's no use risking both of your lives. Your chest is tight and cold, and you fear the worst. With nothing else to do, you pace the room.

An hour later, the door opens, then slams shut. Percy's there, his hair tangled and his green eyes are almost black. The smell of alcohol hits you, and you realize he's been drinking.

First you're relieved.

Then you're angry.

Percy sees your expression and slurs, "Been at the bar." He seems to be over his crippling depression, but you know the worst is yet to come. When Percy drinks, he gets angry. It's not that he has an alcohol problem, he just doesn't have good coping mechanisms. It's not the first time you've seen him go too far.

"No shit," you say, not taking your eyes off him. "Do you know what time it is?"

He shrugs and stumbles his way to the couch.

" ," your voice is dangerously calm. "You've been gone five hours."

"Oh big deal, Annabeth," he sneers. "You're lucky I came back at all." You know it's the alcohol talking, but it still sends shooting pains through your heart. "I should've gotten the hell away from this place."

"Percy—"

"It's kind of your fault, isn't it? The things I see…" his voice cracks. "Or I guess it's mine. I shouldn't have gone into that pit with you."

You stare at him, unable to speak. It's not true it's not true it's not true. He's mad at the monsters, the Fates, the gods—not you. The alcohol mixing with the flashbacks is making him this way, but you still feel like someone has ripped the floor from under you.

"I…" you falter, unable to form words. "That hurt, Percy." You're close to breaking, and its showing. You can't help it—you start to cry. Percy looks at you and hesitates, a bit confused. Then his eyes widen.

"Oh shit…" he mutters, putting his face in his hands and processing what's going on. Seeing you cry has shocked him back into reality. Suddenly the alcohol doesn't affect him. "I'm so fucking sorry, Annabeth… I didn't mean it, you know I didn't… I don't know what's wrong with me." He breaks down too, and you're startled. It's only the second time you've ever seen him cry (the first being in the pit when he thought you were going to die). You let him pull you down on the couch with him, and he holds you. You stay tangled up like that for a while, and eventually, you both drift off to sleep.

Percy never drinks again, and you love him.

The highest moment is the time you decide to look through a photo album filled with old photos from camp. You're feeling nostalgic for some reason, so immediately turn to revisiting some memories. You keep the photo album under the bed, which Percy always says is weird and that you should keep it on a bookshelf like a normal person, but you like it hidden. Not from Percy, of course, it belongs to him too. You just don't want guests flipping through the pages. The memories are private.

You feel around under the bed until your fingers finally wrap around the book. You pull it out and sit on the bed, rubbing its hard black surface. The photo album was a gift from some of you and Percy's friends at camp, as a "housewarming/leaving camp for the real world" gift. They had it filled with pictures of you and Percy that people took throughout the years, along with pictures of you with some other friends.

Percy walks into the room as you're opening the book. You ask him if he wants to join you on a trip down memory lane, and he happily agrees, cuddling up next to you on the bed as you open the photo album. The first picture shows you and Percy at age 12, sometime after your first quest. You're rolling your eyes at the camera, but you've got a smirk on your face while Percy is cracking up at his own joke. Grover took the picture while the three of you were just hanging out around camp. You're both so young and at peace, it makes you smile.

"Look how annoyed you are at me!" Percy says, chuckling.

"Some things never change."

You glance through more pictures. There's one of you, Percy, and Grover, probably thirteen, sitting at the campfire, smiling at the camera. You don't know who took that one, maybe Tyson? There's another one of Percy and Thalia pretend-glaring at each other in full armor. You remember taking that picture after a game of capture the flag, where they were on opposite teams.

You turn through more pages, soaking in the memories. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Percy smiling to himself. There's a picture of him squatting next to Zeus's fist after it crushed Kampe during the battle of the labyrinth. He's flashing a peace sign at the camera, which you can't help but roll your eyes at. Then there's another picture of the two of you- it's a little bit awkward because it was during that liking-each-other-but-not-doing-anything-about-it phase, when you two were fifteen. You're sitting a little bit too close together, and you're both half-smiling. Regardless, it's a happy picture.

Finally, you get to pictures where the two of you are dating. It's another campfire picture, but Percy has his arm around your waist and your smiles look genuine. There's a picture that one of the Aphrodite girls took, and you all posed as a joke. You're pressing a kiss to his cheek while he's giving a thumbs up, which is still funny to you.

"We should really recreate that one." You tell Percy, who's laughing.

There's a long gap in time between that picture and the next one. Not long after the picture is when Percy went missing, and then the Prophecy of the Seven was underway. The next picture is one that Percy took of you and Jason. You're sitting next to Jason by the canoe lake, flipping off the camera with no expression while Jason is laughing. Percy had probably said something stupid to get that reaction.

There's a couple pictures of you and Piper, including one where she's braiding your hair and you're looking at the camera with a helpless expression. There's also a few of Percy, Frank, and Hazel smiling with their arms around each other.

Percy bursts out laughing when you get to the picture of Leo dabbing and you yelling at him.

"Iconic," he mutters, shaking his head.

There's a picture Piper took of you and Percy kissing at the campfire when you thought no one was looking, and certainly thought no one was pointing a camera at you. You groaned at Piper to delete it when you found out, but she never did, and you're actually kind of glad. It's a cute picture.

That's the last picture that your friends put in the scrapbook. When they gave it to you, there were a few empty pages dedicated for future photos. Percy has added a few since then, like the one of you doing a fake model pose in a onesie that he bought for you as a joke. There's also a few with Percy's mom, smiling sweetly next to the two of you.

The last picture as of now is one Grover took when he came to visit the week before, where you and Percy are trying to bake cookies and failing desperately. He has dough all over his face and clothes, and he's looking at you. Your hair is a mess and you're shooting a help us look at the camera.

Percy closes the book and returns it to its spot under the bed.

"That was nice. I forgot about most of those." He says, yawning.

"Tired?" you ask. He nods, and climbs back into bed, pulling the covers over the two of you. You cuddle up next to him, placing a hand on his chest. "I'm really glad we grew out of that awkward 15 year old phase. Those photos were painful."

"Agreed. Thank god I'm comfortable enough now to do this." Percy says, then tilts your head up slightly and kisses you. You smile into it and kiss him back, moving your hand from his chest to his neck.

This could easily go somewhere, turn into something more than just kissing, but you're both perfectly content to just lay there pressed up against each other, just enjoying each other's presence. You start to doze off as you listen to the steady sound of Percy's breathing. You open an eye, though, when you feel Percy reach for the camera, and lift it over the two of you. You bury your head in his chest, not really wanting your face in the picture. Percy looks at the camera with soft eyes and a small smile, and pushes the shutter. "That'll be the next addition." He says, returning his arm to your waist.

In that moment, everything was right in your world. There's no working crisis, no Tartarus, not even groceries to buy or dishes to wash. With your head on Percy's chest you're completely at ease, and you know that feeling will last as long as he's next to you.

"I love you," you tell him, and he loves you too.