I have been waiting so long to write this. (Both in the sense that this is a key plot point I've thought of a long time ago, and that I should've started sooner. I just realized I sometimes take two weeks to update…but future chapters should come faster.) The romance-writing part of my brain that is still trying to shake off the pins and needles is both giddy and annoyed at me. But my nerdiness is purely giddy now that I've reached two Shakespeare quotes in a row .
Enjoy!
Annabeth Chase's Facts about People, Life, and Earth: "Here's to my love! [drinks] O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die." -Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
On Christmas morning, Percy was getting a cramp in his right side. There was an indent in the couch, from the way he was curled up for most of the night. Annabeth had kissed his left cheek, and he didn't want to rub away the ghost of an imprint on Grover's musty couch cover.
It was stupid, but it was something small he wanted to do, and it made sense to him.
He grazed his cheek again with his fingertips and wondered if he could touch her lips and not just his own face. What would think if he just reached out and brushed his fingers against her lips? How would they feel? What if he brushed his lips against hers?
He was pretty drunk the last time he admitted he loved her. Grover and Harvey were pretty convinced of it, or at least that something was there, and Harvey liked to imagine it was between both of them. Whatever it was, he didn't want to fall into the trap of trying to define something so obscure and useless and consuming. Well, everything else happened, and it was easy to forget. Or convince himself he forgot it.
Which was a lie, and he didn't need Annabeth to let him it was kind of impossible to lie to yourself. Even if he was getting pretty good at it, if he did say so himself. What was that kiss supposed to mean? She didn't do it to anyone else. She made him step outside a little, like she wanted privacy. Personal time with just him— but she requested that with everyone. She made everyone feel special, worthy of her attention. Maybe he was the only one flapping at the end of the hook, begging for more crumbs, gulping up all the attention he got. A kiss on the cheek was quite innocent, but there were certainly far more platonic ways to express that. Whatever that was. She didn't rely on touch to express anything with him. She knew he didn't like that a lot, and her presence was good enough. So why a cheek kiss? Was there another intention behind it? Was she—he cringed at the thought—aiming for his lips?
He immediately shoved down the idea. But his thoughts didn't quiet down. It sounded impossible. She was impossible and so insistent on being his friend, and it was impossible for her to think of something beyond that. She was just trying to show how she thought of him, or cement their relationship— through a kiss. Did she really want to reaffirm their friendship by putting her lips inches to his? What intention did Annabeth have?
He ran his hands through the tangle of hair and tried not to groan. He couldn't mull over this any further. But there was much more fodder his brain had unearthed to consider.
She always answered the phone immediately, even if she was doing something else. She showed him her…interesting dancing to distract him. She thought of him as her favorite person, according to Thalia. She tucked him in that one night, even though he'd went out and gotten high right before their meeting. The one thing the Annabeth in his dream had gotten right was that the Annabeth he knew right now stuck with him when he had no good days, no improvement, never thought he wouldn't get any better. She always smiled blindingly at him. She kissed him on the cheek.
What if they were a few steps back, under the mistletoe where Leo tried to unsuccessfully sneak one on Calypso? What if she whispered "until next time" or whatever those flirty heroines in romance novels did? Not that he could imagine her being that girl, but explaining that was a flirty act (or just a friendly, albeit strange act) would probably be driving him less crazy. What if she didn't do anything, would he be obsessing over her so much? Or what if he showed up at the airport with a bouquet of roses and begged her to stay?
He winced. That one was way too off. He could imagine her kind, sympathetic, pity-free but heart-shattering smile as she gently pushed the bouquet away. Or maybe she would smell the roses and thank him. But she wasn't a girl that would put her life on hold for some last-minute gesture, and Percy should stop watching soap operas with Harvey. He'd just gotten too good at seeing her expression in his mind if he ever brought up what was plaguing him now or admitted something or stopped hiding his feelings.
Which was still something he wished he had some heroin to face. Alcohol numbing his thoughts didn't sound so helpful at the moment.
He shifted and felt his sore hip move onto a lump in the couch. Knowing Grover, it could be a wad of recycled paper or a half-chewed soda can. He wished he'd taken up Annabeth's offer to sleep on her lump-free, generously stuffed couch. Or maybe her bed. To feel her sheets slipping like water over his skin, and breathe in her lemon shampoo and laundry detergent smell in the pillow case—that was the closest he was ever getting to her. To be skin-to-skin with her.
This time, Percy rolled into the couch, making sure to keep the one cheek from touching anything, and groaned into his pillow for a moment.
"Dude, what are you doing?" Grover asked warily behind him. "And how long have you been up?"
Percy sprang up and tried not to snort at the mess of Grover's hair and his goat-patterned PJs. "Not long. I wasn't doing anything." He glanced at the weak, not-quite-bright morning glow hiding out behind buildings. He heard the familiar tune of "Jingle Bells" streaming out from someplace. "Why are you awake?"
Grover peered at him, the dark rings around his eyes making him look like a racoon. "It's Christmas day, Percy."
"And?"
He sighed. "Your memory sucks, man," he teased, and then his expression froze up like he was afraid he said something wrong. Like maybe the heroin ravaged Percy's mind (though he thought it had pretty much been always like that).
Percy shrugged. "Better than yours."
Grover relaxed and breathed out a laugh. It wasn't so much genuine as relieved, but Percy forced himself not to dwell on it. And imagine how Annabeth's laugh was far less bleat-y and filled with awkward pockets of air, but like sunlight was pouring from her throat and how her eyes finely sparkled.
"Nah, I didn't mean that, Perce. Juniper's coming with my gift!"
Percy got up to stretch. "Why doesn't she just come down the chimney?" he deadpanned.
Grover stuck his hands on his hips. "Come on, we have to decorate this place!" He straightened. "And I have to get ready."
Percy refused to snort. He refused to think about how he always meet Annabeth in his grimy hoodie and those falling-apart shoes. How they'd clearly put more effort into gift-giving than him. He wrote a maybe 300-word letter with dozens of spelling mistakes, since he had no autocorrect. Grover was still waiting impatiently for him. "What should I do?"
Grover grinned. "The boxes are in the kitchen, and don't barge into the bathroom while I'm changing."
Percy grimaced. "I did not plan on doing that, G-man."
"Good." He fluffed his hair and pranced into the bathroom. Percy caught a glimpse of pimply and slightly flabby flesh as Grover ran back out of the bathroom, screaming, "Don't look at me!" and grabbed a sweater from his closet-sized bedroom, because he really did sleep inside a closet.
Percy felt a little queasy and decided to postpone his customary three glasses of water in the morning. He decided to peer into the fridge first, since food was a newly important priority. Grover had some OJ, horseradish, and a ton of boxes from last night's party. He had to lift some compostable lids to see inside, and every single one held an enchilada. Someone must've accidentally ordered a hundred shipments of corn tortillas, because Percy was pretty sure he saw Grover shoving down a couple of whole casserole dishes last night, and there was still enough to pack his fridge.
He stuck two in the microwave and then peered into the box. There was a ton of tinsel, wooden gingerbread cookie-shaped ornaments, and a stack of newspapers. Percy strew the tinsel around and hung the ornaments on the coat rack and a doorknob but had nothing to do with the newspapers. "Jingle Bells" was still playing, and it was irritating him a little. Did people really have to play the same songs over and over? He imagined strumming a guitar in front of Annabeth, and quickly pushed away the image. He was pouring out two glasses of OJ when Grover finally left, frantically going through the mess on the coffee table. "Where's the hair gel?"
Percy squinted at him. He was wearing a hand-knitted sweater with a reindeer and mostly wrinkle-free khakis. He had a red-and-green striped Rasta cap on. "Do you really need hair gel?"
"Yes! I need to look nice for Juniper!"
The microwave dinged. Grover drooled. "Are those enchiladas?"
"There's literally nothing else in the fridge."
He abandoned his search and ran to the table. He was on his third piece when the doorbell rang, and he simply waved Percy on as he tried to scoop as much onto his fork as possible.
Percy opened the door to, of course, Juniper, with a spring of holly on her ponytail holder, a dark skirt under a matching reindeer sweater, and a brilliant smile. To her credit, her face didn't fall when she saw Percy.
"Good morning! Merry Christmas," she said kindly. "I hope Grover's been treating you okay?"
Percy quickly gestured for her to go in, even though Grover's apartment wasn't much warmer from the hallway. She stomped off the snow on her boots and shook it from her hat. "Yeah, it's been great." He'd just stayed up for most of both nights, thinking about nothing he would say to Juniper. "Grover's eating enchiladas for breakfast," he explained.
"Ah," Juniper said, her green eyes twinkling. She headed to the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Percy imagined Annabeth doing that, her hair brushing against his neck, her cheeks still flushed, knotting her hands over his chest. "I brought you a gift!"
Grover looked at her and blinked several times to leave his food-induced haze. He grinned hugely. "Juniper!" he cheered like a little kid to an ice cream van. And then his face dropped. "Um. I'm getting your gift. You can just leave it on the counter." He pushed up from his half-finished plate and rushed to his bedroom/closet, hissing to Percy on the way there, "Where's the tree?"
Percy startled, in the middle of imagining Annabeth's lips brushing against his ear. "What tree?"
"You can make a Christmas tree with old newspapers! I saw it on Pinterest! That's where we're supposed to put our gifts!"
"How was I supposed to know that?"
Juniper was clearly trying to look like she wasn't listening. She cleared her throat. "It's fine. Thank you, Grover, for thinking of that, but I can just give you your gift."
Grover looked between them, harrumphed, and disappeared to look for Juniper's gift.
Percy sat back down. Thinking of Annabeth's back against his, her tucking her chin on his head—it was making him a little lightheaded. He forked up some of his enchilada and then thought to say, "Have you eaten?" to Juniper.
She smiled awkwardly. "Yeah."
"Okay." He would pull a chair up for Annabeth, and she would sit, setting her legs against his, leaning in to laugh and throwing her arm around his neck again to grab the coffeepot. He forced himself to pay attention to Juniper again. "Do you want some juice? Or, uh, to sit?"
She held her gift carefully and stood illuminated by the kitchen window's light, looking slightly uncomfortable in a kitchen she probably used more than Percy and Grover combined. "Sure. I'll get it, thanks." She looked down at the table for a moment and rearranged Grover's fork and knife. Then she looked up and inhaled visibly. "Percy, I don't mean to intrude. Grover told me you've quit. First, he stops dealing, and now this. I'm really happy for you guys." She smiled, like she was leaning her face into the sun's glow. "I know it's not easy." She swallowed and look down again, and then her eyes darted up to meet his. "He wouldn't appreciate me saying this on his behalf. But all of the sites I went to said rebounding is common." Juniper cleared her throat. "Please. Don't," she implored.
Percy swallowed heavily. He didn't know what to answer. He could only feel something stirring inside him again, like a volcano, or puke, frozen in his rib cage, waiting for the perfect moment to pour. Juniper had to know how he rarely got personal with Grover. Her concern was touching, and a little painful. He couldn't promise anything. "I know," he finally settled on saying. "I know."
The closet door of Grover's room swung open, and they both tensed. "Ta-da!" Grover yelled, possibly with some hair gel on, holding a large book in his hand. He ran it over to Juniper.
"It's about the water table! It's recorded the places with the most remaining water in the next year, and there's also a website that gets updated."
Percy had no idea why Juniper would be interested. But she grinned hugely and hugged him hard, the wrapping paper crinkling between them. "Thank you for researching that for me, Grover," she said, staring into his eyes. Percy looked away and decided to steal Grover's plate.
She set the book in her seat and handed him her package. "I promise this isn't expensive."
He shook the package. It was round. He frenziedly ripped the bright green paper and held a small glass globe. He stared at it for a moment. "Thanks?" he asked in an odd voice.
Juniper laughed good-naturedly and said, "Turn it around."
The continents were tinted in different colors. On the soft yellow Africa, Percy was the first to notice an "x" in black Sharpie. Grover raised his eyebrows.
"Fine, I'll explain. I got us tickets to go there in the summer! There's someone who knows a spot where we can camp in the savannah, and it's close to wildebeest and elephant migrating routes."
Grover's jaw dropped. "Seriously?"
She nodded, smiling, and he jumped into her arms. Percy imagined lying on the roof of a Jeep, swatting mosquitos and pointing out stars with Annabeth, her eyes glinting from underneath her ranger hat. Even though he'd only ever known humid, squelchy summer nights, he would definitely want the warmth of her wrapped in his arms right now. The deepening tan of her bared shoulders, her head leaning on his arm…
"Sorry, man," Grover said, rubbing one arm and then coughing into his fist.
Percy realized he was staring into space, and looking like he was staring at them. He quickly got up, even though that made his heart jump, and gathered their dishes. "No. I shouldn't be crashing all your dates." He left them in the sink. "It's just that, um, I don't have anywhere else to go."
"No, of course we welcome you here!" Juniper said brightly, but Percy still felt her pang of pity and his obtrusiveness.
He ran a slightly damp hand through his hair. "I should check on Harvey. Hopefully Calypso's okay with keeping them both in check."
They laughed, and Percy went to the living room to grab his phone. He already had some texts from Leo. Two were sent close to midnight.
bro ym litle bro is cool
he siad u liek anabth?
And then in the last hour:
yo come wtahc anebeaths splech w/ us
we r at sparkys hotel vip siute top flor!
Percy took a long time to realize the words were already misspelled. He would've guessed Leo could use autocorrect, like Percy always required for texting and Annabeth also admitted to using, but apparently, he was more dyslexic than Percy. He even typed "mcshizzle" wrong on Percy's phone.
Though he could mostly decipher Leo's message, he had no idea where Jason and Piper were staying at. He texted Piper, who thankfully was also had autocorrect, even if she made less sense with it.
Hey O!
Hello…Leo invited us to your room to watch Annabeth's lecture?
Yep it's on your tube.
Percy could not help snorting.
Ah it's auto color!
Where's your hotel?
The text bubble hovered for five minutes. Percy wondered what was going on with its name. Finally, her reply came
sry had leo turn off autocorrect couldnt type the long latin name
She then sent the address, but Grover was apparently reading over Percy's shoulder the whole time and gasped. "The hotel in East Village?!" he shrieked as Percy jumped and shrank away. "I have to check it out ask her if I can come!" He spun to Juniper. "We're going there!"
Of course Piper agreed, and then Percy's phone was on the verge of dying, so they fetched their stuff and ran to the subway station. They arrived underground just as the train pulled up. They had to wrangle with the turnstiles and elbow through the crowd and almost got squeezed out and forced to the wait for the next mostly likely late train, but luckily, most of the population of New York was staying off the subways on Christmas Day.
They were late, however, because of the trains and the fact that Grover saw Juniper at one of the stations and had an unnecessarily long reunion together in front of everybody, but the hotel's guard let them in without fuss since Jason had called ahead. The rest of the guests at the VIP lounge and lobby's fancy cushioned seats all gave them mistrustful glances, but the receptionist and bellboys seemed unbothered once they were identified as "Mr. Grace's company."
The glass-and-marble elevator shot through the building, making gold-paneled and chandelier-hung floors run into each other. It hit the top with a pleasant ding, and the bellboy announced, "Quingentis" (which Percy guessed was five hundred in Latin, since that was the floor they were on) as the glass doors slowly panned open.
Their jaws dropped together. The suite was probably triple the size of the Valdezes's Car Shop warehouse, or the entire Half-Blood Hill building in one floor. They stood there, staring at the giant foyer with a painting of a yellow field: if Percy squinted, he thought he saw a little plaque with "Van Gogh" next to it. The bellboy coughed, pressing the open button once more.
Juniper shook herself awake first and dragged Grover out, and Percy hesitantly put Annabeth's shoes onto the three-inch thick velvet carpet. They were pretty muddied and worn from his "travels," and left a small imprint of dust.
"Hello?" Juniper called out, her voice echoing across the room.
They heard racing footsteps, and Piper rounded the corner, the feathers in her braid flying. She was wearing an ancient hoodie with faded words and Gap jeans, and her yellow socks skidded across the slick marble floor. "Finally! The TV's this way." She ran over to grab their stuff and pulled them down the hallway.
"It's just us three from the phone and Caly today," she said as they hurried down the long length of it. "Frank and Hazel are out volunteering with something, and Thalia has a lot of crime to catch on holidays, apparently, and used up her last vacation last night."
The living room was bathed in the morning light. There was a white leather couch around the size of a boat, an entire wall made up of a plasma TV screen, and a buffet table of snacks in the middle of the silk carpet. Jason, Leo, and Calypso perked up in the midst of the couch, the light glinting off of Jason's glasses and Leo was lounging around in a terry cloth bathrobe and designer sunglasses. He lifted a cocktail glass in his hand crowded with five paper umbrellas from the loaded tray of food on his lap. Harvey appeared in a polo shirt and crisp slacks, self-consciously rubbing a hand through his hair as he said hi to them and set a tray of mini-pizzas on the table.
Percy's eyes immediately found Annabeth up on the screen. It was still early in California. Her freckles splayed out and the curls of hair escaping from her ponytail and behind her ears suddenly hugely visible, even the tiny nick in her front tooth flashing as she grinned, and wished he could somehow take her down. She wouldn't like being larger than life, so detached from them.
"Hey!" Leo yelled. "Check this place out!"
Jason dragged his eyes away to give them a quick wave and bumped him with a pillow. "Shush! She's getting into the important stuff."
Calypso grinned at them and moved over to give them space, also seeming to be riveted by the speech.
Piper flopped beside her boyfriend, and Leo's mountain of food jumped in midair. "Aargh!" he yelled, grabbing at popcorn and cream puffs and everything else Percy could imagine.
They settled down into the couch, Grover secretively reaching for some of Leo's snacks, and Jason turned up the volume.
"I wrote my thesis on cognitive dissonance," Annabeth was saying, her voice smooth with a practiced quality. Percy's ears warmed upon hearing her voice in clarity. She was back to being a real person, not the character prancing through his dreamland, and she was a lot prettier than he remembered. She had folded her hands on the podium, straightened, and wore a small smile. Percy wondered if he was imagining the rosy, reddish spread across her cheeks and arms. A budding tan?
"When the brain consciously knows something, but the person doesn't act along those lines. I wanted to uncover that in different people. But one thing I learned from majoring in psychology is that you must have a mental reason for everything." The audience politely laughed. "Perhaps I had my own stage of cognitive dissonance. When going through rebellion in college, and exploration of myself, of course there was a lot I knew I shouldn't have done, or I wanted myself to do instead. In my research—"
"Why is there salted caramel popcorn?" Leo suddenly burst out. "Nasty!" He straightened, a gigantic effort, and was about to fling the bowl onto the coffee table, but Grover snatched it up and joyfully poured the contents into his mouth.
"Where's that cayenne-seasoned popcorn? That was really good." Leo pouted as he searched through the different bowls.
"It's in the movie theater, not here," Calypso said lowly.
"Then why aren't we watching this there?" Leo sputtered.
"Because this isn't a film!"
"How did Caly even date you," Piper groaned.
"Can we go there instead?" Leo wheedled.
"This video is uploaded by Stanford?" Grover gasped, suddenly noticing the title.
Percy felt a groan building in his throat. He'd long lost track of what Annabeth was saying, but he could still watch the glow in her eyes, how she waved her few notecards around, and how everything she said was in that smooth, rhythmic cadence he could lose himself in. Her hand gestures orchestrated a story he didn't understand, but it meant a lot to her, and he wanted to run into the world she painted.
"She sounds a little rehearsed," Piper commented idly, her own fingers probing into Leo's snack pile.
Percy wished he had a pair of headphones. Annabeth laughed on-screen, and Percy regretted not listening closely. He wanted to join with her, learn what made her laugh to try it again.
"Don't touch that…" Juniper said warningly. The coffee table suddenly glowed neon, and then a chrome panel of iced energy drinks rose up. "Ooh," Grover exclaimed happily, lifting his hand from a panel of buttons and grabbed a bright-orange one.
Percy finally noticed the audience sitting before the stage when Annabeth glanced at an upraised hand. It was like she had a cone of attention just for the student, which made Percy's throat stiffen, and she grinned at his question. Annabeth cleared her throat and cocked her head for a second. "Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it?"
"Hey!" Piper said and spun around to Leo. "What did you hit me for?"
Jason was guiltily dropping a golden coin into the breast pocket of his purple t-shirt. "Sorry, that was me. I was flipping a coin."
"Oh." Piper receded, looking a little disappointed.
Leo, meanwhile, surged up. "You know, I think it's unfair that I get blamed for everything. Frank forgot to make the restaurant reservation, and the ski park didn't think to have any fire extinguishers, and Sparky's the one sitting way to close to you."
"Alright, it has been you pretty much every single time." Piper retorted. "And at least Jason didn't intend to do it."
Jason leaned over. "We shouldn't blame you so often, Leo. But your actions have unexpected consequences most of the time that we have to deal with."
Leo looked affronted, and Harvey shrank from them. He opened his mouth, and Percy didn't mean to yell. But his words echoed loudly across the room. "Annabeth took time to prepare this speech," he said tightly, staring at her, nodding as the student fired off another round of questions. "Can we just—" He cut himself off, unsure of what to say next.
"Yeah." Jason sank down. "Sorry."
Leo and Piper grumbled their apologies, and Grover reached over to turn on the volume further.
It was an arduous speech, and Percy was certainly fidgeting himself. He only found a wad of discarded gum wrappers in his pocket (how old were those?) and ducked around the coffee table, trying to keep himself from blocking Juniper's view, but he was much taller than her. He quietly fumbled inside his bag for a stack of paper and winced at the one on top. It rather resembled the paper he wrote his letter on.
The whole time, he thought of Annabeth folding her own piece, his fingers brushing against hers, her appraising gaze as she lifted his first crane to the light.
"Can I make one?" Leo stage-whispered.
The whole couch turned to look at the tiny flock growing on Percy's lap. Harvey was wiggling his eyebrows, and Percy remembered when he once asked if folding the cranes distracted Percy from thinking of Annabeth. He lied and said no, but it clearly wasn't working.
"Um. Sure." He handed a piece of paper to Leo, who took it and immediately began folding. Percy kept watching Annabeth, but he distantly heard something being twiddled with from Leo, and a soft tune under his breath. Jason elbowed him a moment after, and while the humming stopped, they could still hear something extremely complex being built underneath a protective pillow fort.
Annabeth hugged a professor and waved to the audience. "Thank you so much for inviting me. I had a lot of fun."
Percy felt frustration abruptly billowing inside him, that he was stuck here watching this on TV with all these interruptions, and that he wasn't allowed to be by her side, and if he really had a chance for anything if he couldn't even understand a speech she was giving to college students.
"No, it was an honor to have you, Dr. Chase," the professor responded, setting a hand on her arm.
He could very well imagine her as an ancient, sage old woman, having seen the world, being the last to encompass the death of humanity or whatever with her fathomless gray eyes.
Annabeth even got a short advertising clip, and Piper was yelling, "Wait! This is being recorded, right?" where she sat before a white, glowing backdrop and flashed a toothpaste commercial smile and said, "I'm Annabeth Chase and for more psychology videos from Stanford University, please visit…" Piper cut off the rest with her choked laughter and Calypso mused, "I think that's new."
The video stopped with Annabeth's winning grin frozen up on the screen, and Jason's recommended videos came up: "The Ancient History of Bricks," "DC's Best Heroes," "Mario Kart Hacks," "How to Live with a Vegetarian Girlfriend," and nothing his friends would let him live with.
Leo was taking pictures like the paparazzi, and Piper was picking the last one, and Juniper's eyebrows were about to shoot over her hairline. Percy laughed along with them and then quickly excused himself to call Annabeth. Even though he would sound a mess, he wanted to reassure himself she was still the Annabeth he knew, who blurted out things and licked her fingers, and it thrilled him that he could just call her. Because she thought of him as a friend.
It rang three times, and then again. And more times. Around the twentieth time, the ring quieted and an automated voice announced the user was busy and he could leave a voice mail.
There was a laugh in her voice, and a soft tinkling he recognized were the glass owls shaking from wind in her office. Her voice sounded a little higher, scratchier. She might've been younger. "This is Annabeth. What can I do for you?" He wondered what has happening as she recorded his, what she thought, why she was laughing or if she always sounded like that. She still sounded different. Percy realized he'd been standing there silently after the click for multiple seconds. He quickly fumbled through the settings to delete his message.
Percy played through the recording again. He kept an eye on the clock and went back to the TV room. He would call her back in twenty minutes, see if something held her up.
-line break-
An hour later, they'd played pool, mini golf, went bowling, and watched some classics inside Jason's hotel room. They explored Piper's landfill of a room and had lunch at The Gardener's Table, a nice restaurant Miranda had set up, ten subway stations away since it was an affordable place. Also, extremely healthy, as Leo and Percy found. Only a couple of waiters were there, and Miranda didn't hold back in showering them in some of her newest salads. He pawned over a good chunk of his newest check, even though Grover offered, and made himself smile about it. They went out for fro-yo afterwards at one of the few open stores, which was a fairly unanimous position, except Percy felt his upper lip and throat burning with cold for the rest of the day, but it was still worth it. Leo turned out to be exceptionally good at hoarding gummy bears and Skittles in his pockets, though the latter was a lackluster candy, in Percy's view, since it had no blue ones. His fro-yo was blueberry flavored, of course.
He tried to call Annabeth a few other times, and when he was on the verge of seeming like a stalker, his phone finally buzzed with a text.
Sorry, Percy! I've been really busy all day, let's talk tomorrow?
He stared at his phone for a moment. He felt a sinking feeling inside him. Irrationally, he thought Annabeth was fading, turning into a wispy apparition, and instead of her lips puckering for his cheek, they were laughing. Faintly.
She didn't even sound the same. She usually didn't add a question mark to a statement. Did she? Maybe she was on the run. But he had no idea.
Leo jostled over, tossing an arm over Percy. He jumped. "Hey, sorry, didn't mean to surprise you. I just had the best idea! You know Jace's company got him a Porsche?"
"We are not racing. The street is not a racetrack." Jason was stern. Percy felt himself floating away, struggling to escape from himself.
"I won't go too far over the speed limit! Beauty Queen! I know you're interested."
In the corner of his eye, he saw Piper leaning against a lamppost, rolling her eyes. "In imminent death? No."
"I'm amazing at driving!" Leo gasped. "We can get outfitted in suits and helmets and everything!"
Calypso smacked his shoulder. "Have you lost your mind?"
"Piper can drive," Leo finally sighed. She immediately straightened from the lamppost and grinned at Jason. "Babe, do you have the keys?"
Jason seemed to not be able to help himself grinning back. "Yeah. Here you go, Pipes."
"Thanks! We'll be careful," she said, kissing him on the cheek.
It was a convertible, and only Leo and Piper fit, to Harvey's disappointment. Piper did keep to her word, for the most part, and they looked up an empty lot on Google Maps. Piper repeatedly revved the engine with a giddy look on her face, which was obviously frightening all the valets and guards outside the hotel. Leo contented himself with playing with the windshield wipers and turning the radio to Top 40.
"Oh, come on," Piper groaned as Shawn Mendes' "If I Can't Have You" come on. Leo delighted in Piper's annoyance and pointed at a blushing Calypso during the chorus.
I can't write one song not about you/can't have one drink without thinking 'bout you/Is it too late to tell you that/everything is nothing if I can't have you
Leo howled the last part, and Calypso buried her face in her hands. Rolling her eyes, Piper changed the station to some indie rock and shot off. Percy stood in the cloud of exhaust and felt something finally clear in his mind.
"We'll hopefully see them in an hour," Jason said. "If not, I guess the hospital then."
Juniper laughed. Percy felt his throat go dry.
"You know, I think there's a steam room in the hotel. I've always wanted to try," Jason said, eyes eager. Harvey stared longingly at the road, even though they couldn't see the Porsche anymore, and Calypso finally got him to go inside with them.
"You know, we should look into finding a small Harvey Davidson for you," Calypso teased. "I'm just not sure if you can get a license."
"I can pass the test," Harvey protested as they entered the elevator. "I rode with Jake a lot."
"Unfortunately, some people are ageist," Grover sighed.
Percy settled his forehead on the glass wall. The bellboy tried not to frown at the smudge his breath was making.
Jason casually switched into a bathrobe—and was than an eight-pack? And ran into the steam room first. Moist, boiling steam mushroomed out into their faces. Grover grimaced, and Percy decided to hand his bathrobe to him.
"I think I want to have a nap," he said quietly.
They turned to stare at him. Percy tried not to wilt under the concern and pity. "I'm just a little tired from last night. I drank some of your coffee, Grover, sorry." He hoped he sounded convincing, and his voice was at a normal tone.
"Yeah, rest well," Juniper piped up.
"I'll show you the way there," Calypso offered, striding forward. "What kind of guest room do you want?"
"Um, a normal one?" His eyes darted around the hallways, his energy draining. He didn't want to get lost. He thought he saw the TV around a corner and pointed to a door. "Does that have a bed?"
"Yeah, I think." Her cinnamon-colored eyebrows pulled together as she pushed open the door, like they were exploring a new world together. Percy felt a small ache in his chest. It was a plain room, with tassels lining the velvet curtains and the four poster bed's drapes, glass topping the tables and crystals dripping from the chandelier. It was probably around the size of a normal hotel room. The gold shine was way too much for anyone through, but he couldn't help sitting on the plush, bouncy comforter.
"I'll leave you here then," Calypso said and left without fuss. Percy immediately went to the window, but the skyline and the new size of humans and honking taxis on the streets made his stomach reel. He took off his shoes, stuffed them in his bag, and found a pair of cotton slippers in the oak-hewn closet. The curtains were drawn, some water splashed around the sink, and the heavy blanket was tossed. He stuffed the bathrobe under the sink in case someone decided to start sleuthing around. Carefully, ever so carefully, he opened the door and tiptoed out into the hallway. The door was well-oiled and the floor was covered in a dense Persian carpet that absorbed all sound, so he made his mad dash to the front door easily. He heard faint squealing from the steam room, but it was a distance away.
The elevator ding was a lot louder than he imagined, and he rushed inside and pressed "close" multiple times. The bellboy hung back, looking slightly affronted. The elevator fell, releasing a few other well-groomed people smelling like expensive cigars and perfume that eyed him with an obvious air of condescension and inched closer to the bellboy. Percy ignored them all.
He speed-walked through the lobby and blew out of the hotel into the biting cold. He shuddered inside his coat and crossed the pretty lawn. At the sidewalk, Percy felt himself slow down.
He could hardly believe he was really doing this. He wasn't even sure where to go. He had nothing but a few dollars on him.
But his craving was no longer just rushing through his blood or humming inside his bones, it ripped through him, snarling. Like a beast, caught inside his too-fragile body, ready to lunge out. Percy fought to breathe through it.
The icy air passed through his lungs a few times, and he started off towards the nearest subway station, whipping his phone out on the way. "Connor, hey," he said lightly. "Are you home?"
"Um, yeah. What's going—"
"Good. Stay there." He hung up and hurried a little faster. Inside the station, he didn't reserve any energy elbowing and pushing people behind him as he got into the subway. He was walking and talking like a New Yorker now. Finally joining his cohorts.
Connor's apartment was not far from Travis', figures. He was rooming with a couple of his half-brothers. Their dad really didn't keep a check on things. The whole place seemed musty and was too cluttered for any sunlight. Connor looked up from a giant pile of tarot cards he was dealing and yelled, "Hey!" He came over to Percy, ushering in with a slightly nervous expression. "What's up, man?"
Percy cleared his throat. "Can I borrow some money?" He stopped. He had no explanation, and he wasn't planning on giving one.
Connor raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Percy knew he picked the right Stoll. "Sure." He reached into his pocket. "How much?"
"Two Franklins. I'll pay you back."
Connor pulled out smoothly folded bills from inside his shirt instead. Delusional, Katie liked to say. He raised his eyebrows as he handed them back. "You sure?"
Percy resisted touching the money to his face or something else stupid like that, but he was feeling emotional. "Yes. Besides, don't you have plenty from yesterday?"
Connor's face didn't move, but his finger twitched slightly, something Percy only noticed after years of playing poker with him. "No, I don't. My brother Cecil confiscated it all."
Percy was mildly surprised they were related, but he didn't care. "Really? He found all of it?"
Connor smiled slowly. "Yes, he did."
Percy thought Connor wasn't going to tell after this, because Percy definitely didn't believe him. He lifted a shoulder and left, almost tripping over a young boy Harvey's age as he went to the door. Percy quickly lifted his foot and ran down the stairs. He could still smell the mustiness on him.
The streets were easy, yielding to his storming, narrowing and twisting him to a familiar place. The doorknob's click whispered in his heart, like it was as huge as Jason's hotel room and every sound echoed. His eyes washed over the bleak faces inside and the candle was held up to examine his features.
"D*mn, you back?" his dealer's assistant laughed.
Percy held up the money to the candle. The assistant quieted down as the dealer pushed forward. It took him a few heart-stopping seconds to rub the paper bills, making sure it was real. Percy felt like he lived eons, other lives, explored other worlds in the moments that passed without breath. A heavy weight dropped into his palm.
Whatever those other chances, other people, other lifetimes were, he gave them up. Because everything was nothing, and yet he could still hold it all.
Slowly, Percy crept out to the sidewalk. Everything was pretty quiet at the moment, the last moments of Christmas passing away. He eyed the buildings. In the distance, a set of bleached, for-sale real estate stores stood underneath pastel apartments, now sketched in shadow. He felt his stomach twist again.
Percy turned back around, and for some reason, there was no pounding, nothing telling him to rush. His internal clock hummed quietly. His feet led him forward. He didn't know this area very well in the dusk, he realized. He stumbled across a few streets, imagined he could see the tracks of a Stingray in the road. Percy quickly ran if he saw any bandanas or particular shirts or smelled something iffy. He hadn't been paying attention to gang territory in a while.
Slowly, carefully, feeling drained, he hiked up a sloping street. At the tip was an abandoned office building, and a useless grassy lot behind it. The grass was so overgrown, the little slabs of tombstones were almost hidden.
He knew why he was here. He ran to Silena's tomb and shoved the stone. It was so wind-beaten, eroded by the summer rains that the words were difficult to make out. He shoved it again, and he felt the flimsy stone easily loosen in the cold dirt. He put his shoulder against a word—he couldn't even make it out, and pushed hard. Then he sat down on the slightly damp grass, panting hard.
At Bianca's tomb, there were flowers. Small purple chrysanthemums, the petals papery and wilted. They were tied with ribbon. Percy didn't know where they were from. He glared at the tomb and heard screaming in his mind. He realized he was the one doing it. "Why did you make me like this?" he screamed. "Why did you let me kill you?"
Beckendorf's resting spot was on the very edge. Clarisse didn't let anyone else help them carry his body. It was their fault, Percy remembered feeling clearly. Their fault Beckendorf's body was so cold and heavy. They couldn't walk any further than that and dug a hole right there.
Percy tried to sink his fingers into the earth, but it was frozen. He clawed at it until his nails chipped, and he still kept clawing. He finally came up with a few icy clods. Percy pelted his grave with them. A wolfish voice chased his anger away, hissing into his ear, "Like they really matter to you."
Percy sat completely still.
"Like you actually cared enough to make the right decisions for them," it hissed again. "Like you don't just use their deaths as a crutch to blame all the mistakes you've made that you'll never be able to redeem."
His ears rang with sudden silence. And then an empty face, with Annabeth's eyes, because he couldn't imagine her features at the moment. Her eyes were unmoved, hard. The mouth parted. "You get to make the choice, Percy," said her empathetic voice, which did sound a lot like her. Like she was pressing her life into every single word.
But you don't understand, Annabeth. She made the choice for him.
Percy dusted the dirt from his hands. He wanted to run from ghosts and illusions. He wound around corners, heading into dead ends, scrummaging his mind for a number. Just a small, simple number. He tripped a few times and leaned against the streetlights, panting. Suddenly, there it was. The little scratched numbers glowing under the light. 557.
Percy frowned at the buzzers and his fingers danced over them, finally selecting one from the second floor. He coughed out something like, "Delivery" when a nasal elderly lady's voice asked about him. The door relented under his push.
He heard the ticking grow a little louder. It was pressing and colliding against his heartbeat. Percy was almost gasping as he waited for the elevator.
The elevator smoothly slid past the second floor, finally arriving at the eighth. The moon was rising, but it was masked in clouds.
The door numbers were hazy in his vision. He went to the third door. Percy stood there for a moment, bracing himself against the doorway. His fingers lightly went up to his cheek.
A breath passed through him sharply. He took out everything, finished with the spoon. His fingers curved around his syringe, his thumb slipping onto the plunger. He brushed a few scars, found a new, smooth spot. Let himself sink down to the carpet first, his back against the wall.
There was a tightness in his chest. Lights were pouring into his vision, showering him with thin blinding sparks. The edges were blurring, and then darkness came in splotches. Percy didn't even think to fight it.
-line break-
No time had seemed to pass when his neurons jumped and signals to his body crashed together. His eyes yanked open. He stared up at a pair of eyes, so narrowed the eyeliner around them seemed to touch.
"What are you doing?" she demanded. "We have Naloxone for stupid criminals, not just stupid idiots like you. What do you think you are doing?" she screeched again. He noticed a leather jacket draped over her shoulder, and wondered if he saw it draped on the couch yesterday. She didn't leave with it. He felt his blood draining from his head, but maybe he was imagining it.
"Listen," she bit out, "you don't get someone to care about you and then just leave. When someone gives you so many chances and tells themselves not to hope, you don't leave them. When someone so young and innocent trusted you, you don't just disappear and hope they forgot you because their lives are not better like that."
He heard ringing in his ears, and wondered if she was screaming. He placed his kiss-less cheek on the hallway carpet.
"Percy?" she asked, with a sudden rise of fear in her voice.
His chest hurt again. He closed his eyes and only saw small red dancing dots.
Cold fingers gripped his chin and shook him hard. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw a skull bracelet, peeping out from beneath her police uniform's sleeve. Percy choked and gasped.
"What?" Thalia said. She was mostly likely screaming.
His fading mind was filled with one word. "Reyna," he mumbled aloud, hoping to dispel the repeating chant, or maybe it was just marching out of him. But it just stole a breath he really needed.
He shut his eyes tightly when everything started spinning. He didn't want to darkness to overtake him again, not when he'd just thought of someone that was somehow important. But at least the pain was getting chased away.
"Who?" Thalia screamed.
I kind of had a long rant, but I'll just cut it short. I really hated to do this with Percabeth, but Rachel's out of the picture and, well, I'm making a point. Percy has this savoir mentality with Annabeth, and if she can't be there for him, everything is going to come crashing down. It doesn't matter that Annabeth is the right girl, because of course she is, but that doesn't mean Percy won't make mistakes anymore. They certainly haven't discussed this before.
I'm eager to hear what you guys think! Just because I'm the author doesn't mean I'm right or that I know everything, and there's obviously a lot more sides to this I haven't thought of.
(By the way, what's happening in here and the next few chapters will be a lot more accurate than the first few. I have also made minor edits to those, and changed it so that Percy used around twice a day up to Ch. 10, one scene in the last chapter, and made the Stolls brothers like they originally are in the canon. I'll be telling you guys about my edits when I make them from now on.)
Review replies:
SpartanBoy: Hey, I don't know if you've kept reading up until here, but I'll say this anyway. Thank you so much for pointing that out, and for clarifying it wasn't flames, actually. I've been dreading/waiting for someone to call me out on my limited/absolutely no knowledge on pretty much the biggest topics I discuss here: depression, heroin, maybe even romance, etc. for a long time. I started this out as a romance story, of course I was looking at everything the wrong way! But thank you, that was really convicting. It took me far too many chapters into this story to realize some serious inaccuracies, and the whole of my groundwork has been laid while I looked at this the wrong way. I apologize, I know it own it to any reader to have some more accuracy. I've fixed some things, definitely, you're getting a much better version than some of my older readers is all I can say, and unfortunately, you'll only be seeing a very rosy version of that journey. I really wish I could change it. Anyway, thanks for saying that, and I'm glad I amused you…kind of?
Guest: Yes! Thanks for being so encouraging! You don't know how much it means to me that you took your time .
MrGilborg: Shoot. That warrants like a 1k response. I'm going to attempt to keep it short. Again, thank you! Honestly, I felt the same way about Annabeth's appearances. She's kind of difficult in social situations, because she cares about her friends a lot, but, exactly, is the type to still try and give Percy her unequivocal attention. Percy kind of needed some alone time, but that was really helpful, I'm going back and making some edits. Don't worry, it would be my fault for not updating often enough, but her family relationships are pretty calm. (At least, that's what you guys know *inserts evil laughter*.) I don't believe I've tried to show/hint that she's in conflict with them, and but whatever's happening is left out on purpose. You'll see… This is unfortunately not the turning point, but it's getting there, and *spoiler* soon your wish shall be granted in part . I love Percy and Piper's relationship too! I honestly kind of borrowed the dynamic from this semi-cliché high school fic but it portrayed Piper really realistically and I was like yes that's amazing. Thank you for being pun-y, if that was intended, but it's still really nice of you. About the marine bio speech…it's pretty far away in the future, and that's a little foggy to me right now. So no guarantees. It'll probably be nice, though. Also, well, romance. I had a small rant in my A/N for Ch. 15, I'm not sure if you've read it or not, but that's pretty much my entire argument. Don't worry, this story is correctly labeled, and it's happening, it's just a not-quite conventional form of slow-burn . All I can say is, I wish to see their relationship develop too, but we both have to wait. Because of reasons stated in my rant. And don't worry about your spelling, and I promise I am the worst speller out there. I rely on the little red line in Word a lot. I used to spell obvious like "obivous," I don't even know. Thank you so much!