More people like this than I thought they would, dang xP(Post Tartarus, Annabeth's POV. I'm not good at angst ovvbioouslly lol)-x-Three:

The nightmares were regular now. Almost a schedule if I was honest. Of everything I planned and scheduled, I didn't want nightmares to be one of them. I didn't want to except that as a part of my life.

But they were.

It wasn't even solely terrors from Tartarus anymore, now I dreamed about Luke and Silena and my mother. Everything felt like acid, everything seared with pain.

Before Percy went missing, he would lay his head in my lap and try to distract me from my Olympus rebuilding efforts with a couple of sweet words and tugs of my hair. I might as well admit, it usually worked. Besides sparring and a good few heated make out sessions(Which I had to start all of them mind you. Percy, oblivious until the end), all of our physical contact was sweet. Like, sappy forehead touching and stuff that made everyone sigh. And not just the Aphrodite siblings. All of it was the right amount of natural and genuine, with the best kind of stupid mixed in.

And those moments were all but dead.

There was a new kind of desperation we had for each other after the second war. Not a lust or jealousy. Companionship wasn't strong enough of a word. It was something, something that made me feel like I had lost him even when he was squeezing my hand. It was nostalgia for him when he was still here.

Then again, maybe he wasn't.

He usually talked or thrashed in his sleep during a nightmare but he had somehow trained himself not to, so he wouldn't wake me. I hated him for it, knowing he was suffering alone when he comforted me every time I woke him. I told him time and again to wake me, and he did, but only sometimes.

I knew he was holding back, trying to be strong for me but it was only making things worse. I was wrecked with guilt and all the life had been sucked from his eyes. The more I reached out to comfort him, the more he recoiled. So I stopped trying.

Something was absent from the way we looked at each other. I used to feel like a grinning, blushing imbecile but now I just felt like another piece of my heart was crumbling. I felt dead.

The only proper emotion that I felt lately was shame. Not for spending every night in Percy's room, not for slacking off and usually skipping every single one of my classes, not even for crying so publicly when something even remotely reminded me of Luke or Thalia or the days when my only worry was getting Percy to like me.

All of my shame was directed at Sally Jackson. The woman might as well have gone to hell with us because she was living it now.

She cooked, cleaned, dried our tears, completely stopped all work on her novel and told our teachers that we were going to try harder at every parent-teacher conference even if she knew it wasn't true. She was a saint really, I didn't know how she hadn't been hired on the spot at anywhere. Maybe because she was always home, worried sick about her son and his girlfriend as they made the slow descent to madness.

Nico di Angelo started to show up at the apartment somewhere along the lines, sitting at Percy's rarely used desk and telling stories about his time in Tartarus. He never expected anything from Percy or me, he made that clear. He wanted us to know it was okay to feel terrible. He suggested his antidepressants to all three of us, Percy, Sally and me. He said they sobered you up long enough to sort things out.

I didn't know what was real anymore between the dreams and hell and the way Percy's eyes no longer looked green. So we all agreed. Because as messed up as I felt, I remembered being good, I remembered happiness. And I still wanted it.

Two days after the antidepressants was the first time Percy and I had been out of the house in months.

It was to marvel at the rain.

The medication didn't make everything magically disappear, but like Nico said, it helped you think clearly for the majority of the time. Our school picked up and we started talking with our friends again, slowly easing back into the world. It wasn't fixed completely, maybe it never would be, but it was better now.

The mischievous gleam in Percy's eyes were back and I felt the determination reappear in mine. Everything was good and normal and okay again.

Until Percy woke me in the middle of the night with his tears.

He was shaking the bed and the vibrations woke me, always a light sleeper. He tried to stop once he realized I was awake but it didn't do any good.

I wrapped my arms around his chest and he hugged me back tightly, so much so that I was drawing short breaths but it didn't bother me. My heart hurt for him.

"I should have pulled you up." He croaked.

I yanked away and sat up, leaving his hands out wide, missing my back. I spoke to him with an urgent demand, "Don't you ever feel guilty for that. I swear, if you feel guilty for anything, I'll kill you." I wiped my watery eyes with the back of my hand, "Do you hear me??" I snapped, "I'll kill you."

He took a long breath and sniffled, "Okay." He gave me half of a smile, his cheeks shining with city lights.

I took his hands and wrapped them around me, falling back into his embrace, sighing, "Good. Because I love you and if I had to fall, I'm glad you were there."

He breathed a moment without saying anything. He didn't have to tell me he felt the same, I could read even his silence. After a few minutes of hugging, I moved back to the bed again but never let go.

Now calm, Percy whispered solemnly, "I don't think I'll ever tell someone to go to hell ever again."

I couldn't help the laugh that came out, shooing away the silence, "Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase."

He kissed me softly with the remnants of a smile, "Good night."

I kissed him too, a second time for good measure, "Sweet dreams Percy."