It only takes a bit of coaxing for Percy to get Annabeth to agree to walk home with him, as exhausted as she is. Leela's small voice is still chattering away in Thalia's ear when the two of them finally make their way out of the badly lit hallway and down to the darkened streets of New York City. As he tugs Annabeth down a block, he hears her breathe in deeply, inhaling the familiar city air.

As disgusting as it can be, it's home.

"You sure you're okay?" Percy asks, feeling sleepy even as Annabeth regathers her energy from being outside. He yawns through his words, then shuts his mouth quickly, trying not to draw too much attention to his own needs. This is about Annabeth, and helping Annabeth, and sticking by Annabeth. That's what tonight is for.

"I'm… I don't know." She pulls him into a right turn, leading him to a shortcut that goes towards their apartment. "I wish that Thalia and I hadn't… left it. Like that."

"It's not your fault."

"It feels like it's my fault. It feels like I betrayed her."

She stops talking there, but he knows what the implication is. It feels like Annabeth betrayed her by loving Percy as much as she loves him. And even though he doesn't feel bad for making Annabeth love him, he does feel terrible about the fact that gaining him meant losing something important. He wonders who Annabeth would have picked had they not been forced together by the timers. No doubt, she would have chosen Thalia over him, not allowing him to get close enough to worm his way into her life.

But they're never going to know what that world is like. They're not, because the timer laws exist and they are the reason that Percy and Annabeth are together. They are the reason that she's probably resenting him right now as she walks next to him. The thought twists Percy's stomach in a way that makes his entire body ache, and his head.

"It's really hot out here," he says, and when he drops her hand, he hopes that it sounds like it was a proper excuse to disguise the fact that he cannot even look at her, so consumed is he in the guilt wreaking havoc on his mind.

Their apartment still has a few lights on from when they had hurriedly left it, desperate to get to the hospital. Percy's hand instinctively goes for the lightswitch and he ends up shutting it off, darkening their living room. It's strange, because it's a few hours until the sun comes up and they've not gotten any sleep, but he doesn't want to go into their bedroom. He finds himself glancing towards the couch, wanting to continue the feeling of separation he's been feeling all night, ever since he'd realized that Annabeth had never mentioned the fact that Jason and Thalia are siblings.

It just reminds him of the fact that their entire group is a fabrication; that the joining of his friends with her friends isn't a willful one. And that thought makes Percy feel sick.

"I think I'm going to get some work done," Annabeth says as she toes off her shoes. She hasn't said anything about the light; just goes into the kitchen and flicks on the one over the table. "I need… distraction."

Normally, he would take that as an opportunity to distract her himself, but now is really not the time, and he doesn't even have the energy to make a joke out of it.

"Okay," Percy says blandly. "Have a good night, then."

He turns to walk into their bedroom, already shaking his jacket off of his shoulders

"Hey." Annabeth's hands are tugging at the back of his shirt before Percy can register the fact that she's talking to him. He halts, allowing her to slide her arms under his and all the way around his waist, pressing her cheek in the space between his shoulder blades. "Thank you for staying with me tonight. I needed you there."

Perhaps it's the softness of her voice that makes Percy squeeze his eyes painfully shut, or the tender way her thumbs are moving in circles across his abdomen, or the fact that this moment in the quiet of the night feels so one-sided. But mostly, he thinks that it's because she is hugging a man far less selfish than Percy Jackson is.

He's still thinking about it when he kisses her forehead and walks silently into their bedroom, where he curls up, alone, for the first time in such a long time.

Getting up for work the next morning is nearly impossible, especially with only a few hours of sleep under his belt. It helps a little bit that Annabeth kisses him awake, straddling his hips and dropping sweet kisses on his collarbone and up to his scruffy jaw. But the moment he remembers the empty emotions he had felt the night before, Percy burrows back into himself, hiding under the covers.

"I made you breakfast," Annabeth says, voice seductive. "Come on, Percy. Up you get."

"No offense," he says, voice muffled against the covers, "but you're a terrible cook, Annabeth."

His voice is gentle as he says it, but he still worries that it doesn't quite have enough warmth to it. Annabeth, however, laughs.

"Okay, so I didn't make breakfast. I got bagels and lox at 5 AM because I was still awake."

"You know eating fish makes me sad!" Percy says, throwing the covers back so that he can glare at his wife. She chuckles.

"Yes, but I also remember you actually moaning out loud when I lied to you and told you that lox was a special kind of chicken."

"I wanted to believe it so badly," sighs Percy, dramatically throwing his hand over his forehead.

"I know you did, sweetheart," Annabeth says, laughing. "So I figured you could continue to lie to yourself over bagels, cream cheese, and coffee."

He peaks an eye open.

"Did you get the capers?"

Annabeth rolls her eyes.

"I'm offended that you have to ask."

When he watches her above him, laughing with her hands on his chest and her eyes sparkling from the light of the morning sun, Percy manages to forget everything else. He tries to let the feeling carry through even when she has gone back to the kitchen and he is taking a quick shower to get the smell of hospital off of himself. He carries the image of her laughing right into the kitchen with him, forcing himself to kiss her temple and squeeze her hand as he passes her to grab milk from the fridge.

It feels odd, doing all of these things while he has a huge pit in his stomach. When he kisses her goodbye before work, coffee breath and all, he knows that he doesn't put enough heart into it. He knows because he can see it on her face; confusion, and a bit of dread that he has never wanted to instill in her.

He's supposed to be there for her, not hurting her even more. She's not supposed to be affected by his flaws.

Percy walks to work in a fog and moves through his day in a similar manner. He's so absorbed in himself that he doesn't even realize that Frank isn't in the office until his boss walks up to Percy and asks where Frank has been all day.

"He didn't call in?" Percy asks, frowning.

"No," his boss says. "And this type of behavior is unacceptable. I hope it doesn't become a habit."

Aside from the fact that it's just bad form to do such a thing, Percy knows that Frank would never be so thoughtless. He needs his job- he actually doesn't mind working here as much as Percy does. Frank is the kind of person that doesn't want much human interaction; he enjoys being stuck inside of his own head, daydreaming about Hazel while he types away at his computer.

Wait. Hazel.

"I'll take care of it, sir," Percy says, trying to ignore the large sense of dread that has suddenly cloaked him, masking any anxiety he's been feeling about Annabeth all day. This is bigger than that. If Frank is missing work, it means something has happened with Hazel.

Oh god. What if she'd gotten an infection at work? What if she'd been doing rounds at the hospital and had caught something that one of the patients had? What if she gave it to Frank, and he can't come in because he's dying of the black plague? Oh god, not the black plague! That's such a gruesome way to go.

The clock says that it's 1:00, which means Percy can easily go to take his lunch break. He shoots out of his desk chair and clocks out, then rushes to an elevator, which is mercifully empty. Percy practically slams his fingers against the screen of his phone, dialling Frank's number once, twice, three times. He doesn't pick up. Percy calls Hazel next, bouncing worriedly as the elevator moves downwards. Nothing.

Frank's apartment is only a few blocks from work, so Percy decides to check there first. His breathing is getting labored as he considers all of the terrible things that would cause Frank to miss work and neither of them to pick up their phones. Goddamn it, what if they're dead? Can't they at least pick up the phone to tell him that they're not dead? It's common courtesy! Then again, it's also common courtesy to call in at work and tell your boss that you're not coming, but it doesn't seem that Frank has done that.

By the time he gets to Frank's apartment, Percy has begun to realize that his exhaustion might be leading him to overreact just a little bit. Still, he can't help how frenzied he feels when he bangs on the dark brown door, his fist curled up as he rams the side of it against Frank's apartment.

"Dude, are you there?" Percy asks, pressing his ear against the door. "Frank. Hello?"

He's just about to give up and go to Hazel's place when he hears something smash against the wall inside of Frank's apartment. Without saying another word, Percy puts his hand on the cold doorknob and twists his wrist. The door swings open with only a creak serving as an argument, and Percy walks in instantly, reactions quickened by his agitation.

Frank is on the floor, his back against the wall, a beer bottle in his hand, several others on the floor. One look at him makes Percy's entire stomach lurch in fear. He's never seen Frank like this; not ever. He is always so happy and content with his life. He's always cheerful and kind. He's never drunk- even when he does have a beer, it's always in social situations and never enough to get him past buzzed. Hazel has seen too many alcohol related incidents at work to like drinking and Frank always does the thing that would make her the most comfortable.

"What the hell," Percy asks flatly, shutting the door behind himself. "Dude. What are you doing? Drinking in the middle of the afternoon?" Frank doesn't say anything. "Where's Hazel?"

If there's something wrong with Frank, Hazel would be the first person to cheer him up. She'd be the first person he would tell and the only person that could make it better. Percy isn't nearly as skilled as she is in this aspect. Sometimes Percy thinks that he could get to that place with Annabeth, though. That he could read her as well as Hazel and Frank read each other. That they could mirror each other's needs in the same effortless way.

"Hazel's gone," Frank says, voice hoarse.

"Is she sick?" Percy questions, crouching in front of his friend. "Is she at the hospital?"

"No," Frank says. "I dunno."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't know where she is because it isn't my business."

"Of course she is, she's your soul ma-" Percy catches himself too late. He stops himself instantly, but not soon enough. Frank throws one of the empty beer bottles against the wall.

"She's not my soul mate," Frank says bitterly. "That's the fucking problem."

Hearing Frank swear is… insane. Percy wants to force him to take it back; ask him to go back to being the gentle soul that he always is. He's always admired Frank so much for never swearing, never losing it like most people seem to, but now Percy's wondering how much of that is tied to the waist of Hazel.

Hazel. What had she done?

"She… left you?" Percy asks tentatively. Frank takes a swig of beer. It would be funny that he isn't drinking something harder if there weren't so many bottles lying on the floor and smashed against the wall.

"In the dust," Frank confirms with a bitter smile. "Said that she can't pretend anymore. That she can't be bothered to try to make this work when it's going to end in a few years."

"She didn't phrase it like that," says Percy instantly, knowing Hazel better than that. She would never say 'I can't be bothered' to Frank. Not with all that they've been through together.

"Not in so many words," admits Frank, shaking his head. "But that's what it was. She already prefers her soul mate over me, and she hasn't even met him yet." He turns desperately to Percy, his eyes pleading. "What if he's terrible? What if he isn't good to her?"

"What if he is?" Percy asks, sliding against the wall next to Frank. "Do you really want to be around to watch her falling in love with somebody else? She's protecting you, dude."

"I don't want to be protected. I want Hazel." He sounds like a petulant child.

"I know," Percy says, grabbing a beer for himself.

"She's in love with me. Not him."

The statement jars Percy. He's right. Hazel is in love with Frank. She's loved him for years, so much so that she was willing to give pieces of herself to him despite knowing that it would never last. That type of sacrifice… that is love. It's like walking into a fire knowing the fact that you're going to get third degree burns. And she did it for Frank. Because she loves him. She wants to spend her life with him. Because she loves him.

"Oh my fucking god," Percy says. "You and Hazel… you guys are soul mates. You made each other your soul mates. And now you don't even get to be together. Because of timer laws."

Frank isn't paying any attention to Percy.

"I could have handled it," he says insistently. "I could have handled it even if she had met him while her hand was still in mine. I just wanted as much time with her as I could get. That's all. Why is that too much to ask for?"

They don't deserve as much time as they can get. They deserve all the time in the world to be together, just like Percy wants with Annabeth. What would it have been like if they had been able to fall slowly for each other, like Hazel and Frank had? That particular love story had been so luxurious, Percy recalls. They'd had time for small moments and sweet first kisses and shaking hands and dating, actual dating, like in the old movies that Annabeth likes best. Percy thinks about what it would have been like knowing that Annabeth had chosen him, just like Frank chose Hazel and Hazel chose Frank.

Percy thinks about dropping Annabeth off at her doorstep and kissing her goodnight; talking about a possible future; discussing whether or not they wanted to have kids; talking on the phone late at night from separate apartments across the city that never sleeps. He thinks of a scene in one of Annabeth's favorite movies where the man and women are watching a movie in separate houses, talking on the phone and making jokes about the plot and characters.

Frank and Hazel have done all those things. Percy and Annabeth never have.

As consumingly as he loves Annabeth, the two of them don't have the history that Frank and Hazel do. So much is still so uncertain about their relationship, but Frank and Hazel had built their life together into something stable and beautiful. And they can't keep that. They can't have it forever, like they deserve.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Percy mutters to himself. He glares down at the timer on his wrist, at Annabeth's name written there, and wonders what's going to happen to Hazel when she's looking at a name which isn't Frank's.

"I told her I hated her when she left," Frank says emptily, words shaking Percy from his thoughts. "I don't hate her."

"What did she say?" Percy asks, dreading the answer even as the words leave his mouth.

"She said… 'good.' And she was crying."

"Shit," Percy sighs, hitting his head against the wall. He wants to be there for both of them. He can feel the need to comfort Hazel tugging at his right arm, the one closer to the door. He could get up right now and go to her apartment and plead with her to take Frank back; give her comfort in knowing that Frank already misses Hazel. Maybe if she realizes how broken he is, she'll ask him back.

But there's a part of Percy that is keeping him sitting on the floor, right next to Frank. And that's the part that knows that, even though Hazel loves Frank and Frank loves Hazel, she won't take him back. Not when she's broken up with him to protect the both of them. The sooner Frank and Hazel separate, the sooner it will stop hurting. It may feel like hell right now, but the pain has to lessen up at some point, right? And now that the process has been set in motion, is there really any point in sewing them back together just so the fabric can be ripped apart once more?

It's totally fucked up, but this thought is what keeps Percy on the floor with Frank, trying to swallow his anger down using bitter sips of beer.

At some point, it dawns on Percy that he should get someone to go see Hazel. Annabeth is at work, he knows, so he does what any sensible grown-ass married man would do and calls his mother.

Frank is in the bathroom, and the sun is starting to settle low in the sky, so Percy feels safe enough as he quietly pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials his mom's number. She picks up on the third ring, voice slightly breathless.

"I am covered in dough," she says, sounding very comfortable with this fact. Percy's lips lift, but just barely. "Paul and I are trying to make homemade pizza for dinner. It's a bit more of an undertaking than we thought it would be."

Percy hears laughter in the background that he knows to be Paul's voice. Normally, he would laugh too. Right now, however, he can't. He just can't.

"I need to ask you a favor," he says, wincing when he realizes how dark his voice sounds. His mom must hear it too, because she gets serious almost instantly.

"Oh dear," she says. "Is something wrong, honey?"

"Definitely," he sighs. "Mom, Hazel broke up with Frank."

She's silent for several moments.

"I… I think that's terrible."

"She did it because of the timers, not because she doesn't love him or doesn't want to be with him. But Piper and Annabeth are probably at work, and I'm over here with Frank and I think someone needs to go be with Hazel, and you've always been really close to her, so I was wondering if you could head over there."

"Of course," says his mom, voice brisk. If he closes his eyes against the darkness of the room, he can see her untying her apron and heading over to the sink to wash her hands and arms to rid it of dough. "Am I supposed to be talking her out of her decision?"

"No," Percy says, stomach twingeing. "No, I don't think you should. Just… be there for her."

"I can do that," his mom says. "I love you, Percy. And send Annabeth my love as well."

"I will," Percy promises, knowing how happy that will make his wife.

Wife. As he hangs up the phone, he realizes how badly he wants to go home to Annabeth and burrow in her embrace, allowing her to hide him from the world. He has a headache from drinking and from Frank's heartache, which seems to be permeating through Percy's entire body. He knows that it isn't his own heartache to bear, but he feels it deeply, having spent so much of his life invested in this perfect relationship that is now smashed into the carpet. Percy wants Annabeth so powerfully, so painfully, that by the time Frank wanders back into the living room, Percy has already texted Leo pleadingly, asking him to relieve Percy of his duty.

He needs Annabeth right now; needs her to pull him out of his darkness.

"Leo's on his way," Percy says, standing up to greet him. "He's bringing his book of puns to try to cheer you up. Fair warning."

Normally, Frank's eyes would have crinkled with a smile, but he just winces this time.

"You're sick of me already?" he says, meaning it as a joke but it comes out all wrong, all vulnerable and painful.

"Never, bro," Percy says, punching him on the shoulder affectionately. "It's just that I've been sitting on the floor for so long that my ass is starting to kill me, and I figure Leo's butt is so boney that I know we can get some excellent enjoyment out of his pain over the next few days."

"You want to go home to Annabeth," Frank says plainly. "I get it."

Percy deflates, all humor leaving his voice. He just sounds tired when he says, "Sorry. I just… I need to see her."

"I understand," Frank tells him. There's a knock on the door. "And that's Leo, coming to be my next watchdog."

Ouch.

"Hey," Percy says, opening the door to the apartment. He almost lets out a yelp of shock when he sees a boy standing there with a giant red wig and a clown nose. "Dude. No."

"He needs to laugh!" protests Leo.

"Not the time."

"You said he was sad!"

"This isn't the kind of sad that a clown nose can fix!"

Leo shakes his head, mouth open in mock shock.

"I beg to differ."

"Leo."

"Go home, Percy," he instructs. "Let the pros handle this. You never dated anyone before Annabeth."

"But… you don't date either."

"Shhh. Just let it happen, Percy."

Feeling like he's doing the worst thing in the world, Percy gives Frank an awkward head pat in lieu of goodbye and then grabs his coat. He texts one of his work friends, thanking him for covering for him and asking if everything had gone okay. Percy is halfway home by the time he gets a response, to which he sends several effusive thank yous.

The apartment is well lit, so Annabeth must be home. Percy can see light creeping under the door as he fits his key into the knob and opens up the door. Annabeth isn't in the living room, but the light in the kitchen tells him exactly where she is. He has to stop himself from running to her, but he can't seem to control himself long enough to drop his coat off on the proper chair. He ends up shaking it onto the floor and keeping his shoes on as he strides into the kitchen, steps purposeful.

Annabeth is seated on the counter, wearing one of Percy's shirts from high school and a pair of cotton shorts. Her hair is tumbling down her back and she's looking at her phone, balanced on her knee, as she munches on a slice of pizza. Percy feels all of the weight leave his body when she looks up at him and smiles brilliantly.

"I got pizza!" she says holding up a slice. "I thought we could just stay in and take several naps before going to bed. What do you th-?"

She's cut off by Percy slamming his lips against hers, kissing her hungrily as his hand roughly grips the back of her head. Annabeth drops the slice of pizza in surprise and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him back hard. He groans into her mouth, feeling warmth spread all the way to his toes and fingertips.

"Oh god," he moans against her, not able to help himself. "I love you so fucking much. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry about?" she asks breathily, chasing his lips when he goes to answer, effectively stopping him from talking as she continues to kiss him. Percy has a feeling that she knows how awful he feels because he is dreading the moment that they have to stop kissing. He wants to kiss her until he's lightheaded; so lightheaded that all the darkness of the world seems silly and stupid as opposed to terrifying.

He only pulls back when there's no other option, leaning his forehead against Annabeth's as he braces his hands on the kitchen counter on either side of his wife.

"You taste like shitty beer," Annabeth pants, which kind of makes Percy laugh despite himself.

"You taste like awesome pizza."

"I got it from your favorite place."

"Not your favorite place?"

"I was in a giving mood. Also, you seemed upset when you left this morning. I wanted to cheer you up."

"I think you're my best friend," Percy says, quirking a smile. Annabeth looks pleasantly surprised. "You're just… the most important. Okay? I need you to know that. You're the most important."

"You're my best friend too," she responds, kissing him more sweetly. "And I love you."

He closes his eyes, nodding against her.

"Okay."

"Good." She pauses. "Do you want to talk about it?"

In truth, he wants to lift her into his arms, carry her over to the couch, and spend a very long time making out with her, just letting her make him feel whole. He wants to go to the innocence of meer kissing, something he's never really had before. He wants to ignore the fact that they could very easily go to their bedroom and have sex and just act like two people that are safe in the knowledge that they're supposed to be together. Two people that have time and are in no hurry to challenge that.

"Hazel broke up with Frank."

Percy pulls back to study her expression and watches as Annabeth's mouth forms a perfect 'O.'

"Why?"

"You know why," he replies, wincing slightly at the harshness of it all.

"She did?" Annabeth breathes. "Damn. That's… awful."

"For both of them," Percy says. "Although I gotta say that I keep having to remind myself that Frank isn't the only one that is hurting."

"Were you with him all day?" Annabeth inquires, massaging her fingers over his shoulders. Percy slumps against her touch, sighing slightly.

"I was."

"I'm sorry you both had to go through that. And how's Hazel?"

"I sent my mom over to her," Percy says, smiling slightly. "She dropped everything and left."

"I would have too."

"Thought you were still at work," Percy mutters, his eyelids drooping slightly as moves in to kiss her again. Annabeth lets him, head moving backwards at the force of his lips on hers. But she moans quickly as he rubs his thumb over her cheek in apology, massaging the back of her head with the other hand.

"Percy," she says, "You really should talk about this."

"Nothin' to talk about," he murmurs against the skin at the juncture between her neck and shoulder. "I just wanna be with you."

"Percy," Annabeth says again. "Come on. How do you feel about this? It's got to be evoking some emotion aside from hornyness."

He pulls back abruptly, frowning as he runs a hand through his hair.

"It's not hornyness," he says carefully. "I just need to feel… close to you. I guess. I need to feel something good because right now I'm really, really mad, Annabeth. I'm angry."

"About what?"

"About… the world. The timer laws."

He doesn't miss the way her breath quickens, but he wishes that he had.

"You're mad about the timer laws?"

"If it weren't for the laws, Hazel and Frank would probably have been married before the two of us even met. And, Annabeth, they're soulmates. I'm sure that they're soulmates. They may not have been specifically manufactured to be with each other, but they became each other's soul mates over the course of their time together. What they have means something… something important. And I'm not okay with the fact that Hazel is going to have to start a family with, and grow old with, someone she might never love."

"Why do you think she wouldn't love him?" Annabeth asks. He knows that she knows the answer. He knows that she's testing him, trying to see where his mind is at. But not even Percy can miss the excitement in Annabeth's eyes; the happiness that she feels at the idea that he's finally starting to get it.

"She might not let herself," Percy theorizes. "Out of guilt, or maybe because she can't let go of Frank. She might never let herself."

Annabeth squeezes her eyes shut.

"That would be terrible."

"Fuck, what if you had fallen in love with Luke? What if you had never fallen for me because you had fallen in love with Luke?"

"I wasn't in love with Luke," Annabeth reminds him, squeezing his shoulder. "I've never felt about anyone the way I feel about you."

"Yeah, but," Percy pulls himself away from her and begins pacing. "What if you had been in love with him, and I would have been married to this woman knowing that she wanted to spend her life with somebody else? I would have literally been forced into a relationship with this woman who would spend her life with me not wanting anything to do with me. Dreaming that our kids were somebody else's kids… that would suck. I wouldn't want to be that guy. Whoever Hazel marries isn't going to want to be that guy, soulmates or not. That's not fair!"

Annabeth hops off the counter and grabs him to kiss him, pulling his head down vigorously.

"You're absolutely right," she says when she's finished kissing him. "It's fair to no one. And it has to be changed."

Percy clenches his fists.

"Maybe… maybe it does."

"Timers are okay, but the laws that surround them hurt more than they help. They take away certain unalienable rights that should never be erased from man. Timers should be a choice, just like marriage should be a choice."

"A choice," Percy says, tracing her words. "God. Maybe you're right."

He watches as her eyes trace over his lips again. At first, Percy thinks that it's because she's going to kiss him. Then he realizes that his lower lip is wobbling slightly. Annabeth runs her thumb across it, smoothing it out.

"Shhh," she says comfortingly. "Perce, there are things that we can do. We can fix this if we try hard. For Hazel and Frank."

"For Thalia."

"For your mom and Paul."

"Yeah," he whispers. "For my mom."

Annabeth winds her arms around his neck and presses her body tightly against Percy's. At first, they just stand there, Annabeth's head on Percy's shoulder, Percy's cheek on her hair, his hands on her hips. Then, slowly, they begin to sway back and forth, moving to an inaudible beat. Annabeth looks up at Percy, a smile that is almost shy gracing her lips.

"Shall we dance?" she teases, but instead of laughing with her, Percy slides his hand up to her waist and wraps his hand around her hand. He turns to look at her with a serious expression on his face.

"You're going to have to help me," he says. "I haven't done this since I was in sixth grade."

"And you think I have?"

"You're smarter than me. You remember stuff."

Annabeth shakes her head and nudges his foot with her foot.

"It's just this foot back," she says, concentrating. "And then this one to the side. Yeah, like that."

It takes a bit more coaching, but eventually, they're waltzing around their small, brightly lit kitchen, Percy in his button down and tie from work, Annabeth in cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt. As they dance, Percy can feel his expression shifting from serious to content. All of the angst from earlier seems like nothing as he holds onto the girl he loves and moves around the kitchen of their home, only occasionally stepping on each other's feet.

"We could do this one day," Annabeth says, biting her lip as she looks up at Percy. She looks vulnerable, and he doesn't know why.

"We're doing it right now," he says, twirling her. Annabeth spins gracefully before coming back to him.

"No," she says, shaking her head quickly. "I mean… in front of people. Wearing nice clothes."

"Like… like a wedding?"

"We're already married," Annabeth reminds him, raising her arm. Percy gets the message and twirls around her index finger.

"Yeah, but, like a wedding."

"Okay," she says, rolling her eyes. "Like a wedding."

He can't help but notice the way her cheeks pink up and her mouth quirks up.

"Hey," Percy says, starting to grin. "You wanna re-marry me."

"Shut up, doofus. I do not."

"Yeah you do," he says, waltzing a bit faster. "You want to re-marry the crap out of me."

"Not at this particular moment."

"Nope. Right here, right now."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not!"

"Do freaking too!"

"Do n-" Annabeth begins to say, but Percy dips her suddenly, covering her lips with his before he says, "Do too," and brings her back up.

"Okay," Annabeth says, voice breathy. She licks her lips before saying, "I will consider doing the whole cheesy wedding thing."

"Good."

"But you have to read me my textbooks out loud the next time I do the dishes."

"Sure, sure."

"And you have to make me smiley face chocolate chip pancakes every Sunday for the rest of our lives."

"Just as long as you keep your figure," Percy says with a straight face.

"Percy!"

He starts laughing.

"Don't worry! It's okay if you round up a bit while you're pregnant."

"Percy!"

She's laughing too, despite the horrified expression on her face.

"Is it my fault that I want to be married to the hot mom?"

Annabeth narrows her eyes, shaking her head.

"Fine. You can gain sympathy weight while I'm pregnant and then we can work it off together once the baby comes."

Percy makes a face.

"Yuck. Let's never be one of those couples."

"You sure? We could have matching track suits."

"I'm, like, 85% positive."

"85?" yelps Annabeth, stumbling slightly.

Percy shrugs.

"Matching track suits could be cute. We could get The Jacksons written on the back and get the baby a matching one."

"Ugh, I changed my mind. I don't want to re-marry you."

"Your loss," Percy says, cha-cha-ing his hips for affect. "You know I won't put out until I get a ring on this finger."

A/N: If you would like to talk to me about Percy and Annabeth, I am rongasm on tumblr. If you want to scream at me about Hazel and Frank, I am not rongasm on tumblr. Not. At all. I don't even know who rongasm is. What kind of URL is rongasm, anyways?

Chapter title from If You Leave by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. If you don't like them, you should check out the Nada Surf cover, which is rad.

Love, Rongasm/Not Rongasm