Annabeth was absolutely positive that Percy was the biggest momma's boy in all of New York. Although far from Oedipal, it was still slightly concerning. The entire walk to the mall was filled up with Annabeth asking questions about Sally, and Percy going above and beyond in answering each one as if he was making a sales pitch.
"How old is she?"
"Well she's 38, but she really doesn't look it! You would probably think she was 30. Or 28! And she's very active for her age, she works 9 to 5, six days a week at the candy shop. Maybe even mid-twenties!"
It was admittedly adorable how he praised his mom. His eyes lit up as he talked and he smiled unabashedly and so carefree. He kind of reminded her of her little brothers in that aspect. And before she could stop it, the flood of thoughts and emotions that she had repressed were rushing to the forefront of her mind like tainted water from a bursted dam. She had wanted to avoid thinking about her past life in San Francisco for as long as possible. Now was not the time. She needed to be alone for this, safe in her bed, under her blanket. But she couldn't stop it. The cool burning of guilt threatened to swallow her stomach as the memory of her father's face when she told him she wanted to move in with her mother, appeared in her mind; Summoned by that little part of her that liked to watch herself suffer. She saw his face crumble with self-recrimination. She almost wanted to yell at him, then. Tell him the truth about his wife. To tell him that it wasn't his fault.
Almost.
Because it was his fault. Because he married her. Because he chose now to take a look at himself. He chose the time when he was already too late, to decide that he wanted to change. She hated him a little him for making her feel guilty. And she hated herself for hating him then, because kids shouldn't hate their parents. But everything was so jumbled in her mind. Her feelings for him perpetually flipping, ripping and fixing. There was no black and white, no love or hate. It was a mixture, a flammable concoction that just needed a little spark to catch. Or a little solvent to dilute it into something she could swallow.
She remembered the faux sad face of her stepmother. She gasped and frowned pitifully at all the right times. It was enough to convince her dad as he took her hand in a display of mutual comfort. But all Annabeth saw was her mentally mapping out her plans to renovate her bedroom.
She saw the confused faces of her naive little brothers as they stared up at her.
Why are you leaving? / We're sorry!
Don't go! / We don't want you to go!
We'll leave you alone or… / or we could… we can…
They pleaded with her in that completely unguarded childish tone. Their blatant emotions laid out like that almost made her change her mind.
Almost.
They would understand eventually. Soon they will find out that your emotions and your mouth need to be disconnected. They'll learn how to build up their filters. Filters so strong that they themselves won't even be able to decipher the truth. But they'll probably never fully understand why she needed to leave. She told everyone it was because of the amazing career opportunities available in New York for an architect, and that was a big part of it. But it was also the burning need to get out of that house. It was a horribly torturing feeling to know that you were unwanted. To feel the tension in every interaction with her stepmother. An unspoken contempt that bled into your psyche whenever you were alone and tired of the rebellious teenager persona. Of pretending that it was her own fault, and as a teenager to her stepmother's adult, that she was in the wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She shouldn't feel a forcefield around her own house. Around her own father.
She struggled to take the reins of her thoughts. As she looked over at Percy though, it became suddenly very easy.
In that moment in time, his body language screamed pure happiness and excitement. His head was held high and his shoulders straight. He looked her in the eyes and undauntedly expressed his thoughts and feelings with his body. He looked emotionally light and his skin appeared to be glowing. At times she swore she could almost see a shimmering brightness emitting from his person. She was sure that was just her imagination, though. She had also never considered herself an empath before, but she found herself feeling positively buoyant just being near him, then. She felt content and safe with this wonderful stranger. The snow was falling lightly and beautifully like in the movies, and the lights of New York sparkled through the laughter induced tears in her eyes. Everything was perfect.
And then she fucked it up.
Percy had just finished telling a story about a vacation to a beach house in Montauk when she made the mistake of asking the horrid question. Laughter had just subsided and their faces were hurting from all the smiling. She just had to ruin it by asking...
"So, what about your dad?", having no idea what kind of emotional storm she would generate inside Percy with those simple words.
His smile instantly dropped. His eyes dropped. His shoulders drooped. His entire body seemed to deflate and the easy confident grace he previously possessed, disappeared. He reverted back to the nervous mess he had been when she first met him. He seemed to not be able to control his hands as they played with the edges of his sweater and then dove into his pockets. He repeated these actions while he looked anywhere but at her. She was about to take it back, tell him it didn't matter.
But that wasn't what he needed.
Those words snapped him out of it. What was he doing? He knew how it would all turn out. How could he think that he could talk to her like that, sharing every single thought that flew through his stupid brain? He was just so caught up in it. Being able to talk to another human being, past pleasantries. He bared himself. How could he let that happen? He knows what comes next. Had known it for as long as he could remember. Why would he think for one second that this would be any different. That she would be different. He had to stop right now before the inevitable. Before he got attached.
"You're drooling", she told him.
And it was too late.