Paul Blofis, Percy's stepfather, had hardly changed since a brief encounter following the Titan attack on Manhattan. His hair was slightly greyer, she supposed, but that was about it. There was still that sort of fatherly aspect about him, something that had to have been one of the things that had drawn Sally Jackson to him, especially so soon after her previous husband, Gabriel Ugliano. Same face, same expressions that he wore. Paul, spotted Percy coming up the hall towards him, and grinned. He clapped him on the back and ruffled his hair. "Hey Percy, good day?" The joy, the actual, genuine interest in his step-son that radiated from Paul warmed Annabeth's heart a little. She was well aware of the years of indignity and abuse that her boyfriend had suffered through under long years under the same roof as Gabe, and even how he felt often ignored by a distant Olympian parent. Seeing him happy, with a paternal figure who respected and loved him made Annabeth as happy as she had felt regarding Sally's motherly attitude towards her.

Annabeth didn't register what Percy was saying to his step-dad, but it soon became apparent that he was introducing them when he pointed in her direction. Paul smiled down at Percy- It was odd how, despite how tall Percy had grown in the past years, Sally's boyfriend was still taller than him. It really made her realise how young Percy really was, and she also, to have been burdened with the fate of the world. Paul sauntered down the hall towards her smiling warmly and stuck his hand out. Tentatively, Annabeth shook it. "Annabeth Chase," She told him, smiling a small smile. "Nice to meet you." Paul Blofis smiled wider, as if politeness was all he looked for on his step-son's girlfriend. "Paul Blofis," He answered.

Half an hour later, the Jackson/ Blofis family and Annabeth were sitting perched around the same table that Annabeth, Percy and Sally had shared blue cookies, hot cocoa and a variation of stories and re-tellings of the past few months. They were all digging into an exquisite dinner, a compilation of meats, vegetables and pastries. Annabeth had never eaten anything like this at home. There, it was always simple foods- vegan nuggets, carrots, chicken. That sort of easy-to-cook, easy-to-eat food. A few minutes passed, where each person attacked their food with unmasked relish. You could feel the contentment, the easiness in this family all around. In the comfortable lack of conversation, in the relaxed postures of everyone in the room, in the smiles, the laughs, the sighs.

Finally, once everyone had finished their first helping, and were moving onto their second, Paul leaned back on his chair, the front two legs leaving the floor, and turned to her. "So," He began. "You're the famous Annabeth Chase?" Famous? Annabeth wasn't sure what to make of that description of her, but seeing as she was Annabeth Chase, she set down her fork and replied "Yeah, that's me." Paul nodded, observing her. Annabeth squirmed under his gaze, but she tried not to show her discomfort. She didn't like admitting to that sort of thing. "I've heard a lot about you, Annabeth," he told her, first looking at her, then glancing at Percy. When she looked around, she saw that her boyfriend was smiling sweetly, feigning innocence. That smile melted her heart- just a little bit. "You have known Percy for a very long time?"

Annabeth smiled, remembering that fateful summer when a young boy had come running over Half-Blood Hill, half-conscious, and clenching a Minatour horn like it was the only the only thing he had left. The young boy had changed everything, and she had known that since she had first laid eyes on him. He had come into her life in a haze of green eyes, raven-dark hair and a whole load of annoying remarks. And he had never left. He had flipped everything upside down, back-to-front, yet here they all were, five years later, still together, still alive.

The evening wore on in the same fashion. Questions asked, stories told, questions asked, stories told. It might have felt almost like an interrogation session, had anyone else been asking the questions. But not here. Here, the conversation worked both ways, and the questions weren't empty. They weren't tools that one used in a conversation when it got awkward, when there was nothing to say. Instead, they were heartfelt, honest, and interesting. Annabeth did her best to answer the questions aimed at her, often looking to Percy for help on details she may have missed, particularly regarding the years spent at Camp, quests, wars, the like. When she asked questions, made conversation, she was answered, looked at, acknowledged. Not like at home, she thought bitterly for the hundredth time that evening.

Despite all the comfort, the happiness, Annabeth could feel one topic still hanging above them, a subject left alone, but there all the same. She could almost feel it, just out of reach, begging to be examined, to be toyed with. Percy and Annabeth had agreed not to talk about Tartarus with their parents. Still, she got the feeling Sally and Paul knew all the same. Sometimes she would catch them staring at her and Percy with a mournful sadness in their eyes. It was always gone as quick as it had come. Sometimes, just sometimes, a small, self-indulgent part of Annabeth thought that maybe she need only tell her dad that she had crawled through hell and out again, and she would be that much more acknowledged by him. A larger part of her, however, knew that to talk about it would be madness.

Once it had reached half ten, they decided that Annabeth should stay the night. Although she had been too nervous to ask, Annabeth had been wondering if this was possible for the last hour, as the prospect of a nightmare-less night beckoned. Now that she had been offered to stay the night, she felt a knot loosen inside her, relief at the idea that she might finally catch up on the loss of sleep that had built up over the weeks.

Percy seemed just as happy. Obviously, he too was plagued by visions and nightmares of their stay in Tartarus. Being with each other, it had resulted, helped ease the dreams, the visions constantly seared into each of their minds. From someone else's perspective, it may have seemed sweet, the idea that the presence of their lover helped quell the horror of the pit. She still remember the light that had shone in Piper's eyes when Annabeth had confessed this to her friend. But Annabeth didn't find it sweet. She found it extraordinarily unfair that she still had to be separated from Percy every night, even at camp, regardless of the tentative solution that they had discovered.

At one point, a little later in the night, Annabeth received an angry text from her step-mother, demanding to know where she was. Annabeth would have been inclined to ignore it, if not for a chiding from Sally. Sally speculated that her family would be worried, concerned as to her whereabouts. Annabeth knew that this wasn't true- they were probably glad to have a night without being woken by the persistent screams that echoed from her bedroom most nights. She knew that she tired her family with the nightmares. Her stepmother had gone so far as to say it to her face one time, before her dad had quieted her with an angry look. It was still yet another thing that hung between Annabeth and her dad's wife. So of course, Annabeth wasn't particularly anxious to alert them of her whereabouts and 'put their minds at ease.' In the end, however, she replied with a vague, cryptic message reading:

Tell dad I'm out- see you tomorrow. A

Annabeth had almost been tempted to put an X after the A, just to coax a response out of the woman. Eventually, however, she decided against it. No need to provoke her. Too many messages from that lady would alert every monster in the state that Annabeth was here, just so anxious for a fight. Even so, she was still checking her phone for the next quarter of an hour, waiting for a text ordering for her to return home. She only stopped checking when Percy gently took it out of her hand and placed it on a coffee table. "Lets get a sleeping arrangement in order," he said softly.

Percy and Annabeth decided to sleep in the living room, each on one of the two sofas. They laid out blanket after blanket, laughing quietly and chucking the occasional pillow at each other. It was late, and Sally and Paul had already gone to sleep. The two of them crept around the house in the dark, fetching bedclothes and bumping into walls, doors and each other, smothering giggles the entire time. There was a certain fun, hysterical aspect of roaming an unfamiliar house in the dead of night, all the lights off. It was almost like a game. She would creep around a corner and slam into a door. She would laugh. She would walk, vision obscured by pillows, and a light would switch on on the oven. She would jump, drop what she was carrying, and laugh.

Finally, though, they settled down. The heavy prospect of another long day at school tomorrow already looming on the horizon, they decided the time was ripe to snuggle under the blankets they had laid out. So after a hug and a quick kiss, they each jumped onto the sofas. As she pulled the sheets over her, the whole stress and tension of the last few days crashed down over Annabeth. Her limbs relaxed properly for the first time in a very ages. She was finally at ease, her mind at rest.

Stretching her hand out in the dark, she saw movement, and felt the Percy's rough, calloused fingers close around her own. She smiled to herself in the dark. This was something permanent. Something more permanent, even, than all that the great architects of the millennia had designed.

At last, her phone chimed and displayed the message from her stepmother. It was an order to go home, of course. 'Get home right now, young lady. No one gave you permission to be out,' It read. Annabeth smiled to herself. No, she thought. Not today, no thank you. Annabeth shut her eyes, the image of the message already fading from her mind. In seconds, she was asleep. It was the first night in a long time that either one of them slept without dreams.