At about two o'clock, Annabeth opens the door to two daughters of Aphrodite.

She stares in shock at the smiling Piper and her younger sister, who can barely seem to keep still. "This is gonna be great!" beams Lacy, shaking the large bag she's holding. "I can't wait to get started!"

Get started? Annabeth mouths to Piper over Lacy's head. Piper just grins, and Lacy leads the way into the house.

"Come on, Annabeth," says Piper quietly, lagging behind. "I can't do hair or makeup. She can. She's the sweetest one I could bring, anyway."

Sighing, Annabeth cedes the point. Lacy's enthusiasm is pretty sweet, and she looks so excited –

"Fine," she mutters to Piper. "Thanks, I guess."

Piper winks. "Don't mention it."

When they reach the bathroom, they find a surprised Percy with a towel wrapped around his waist being kicked out into the hall. Lacy wipes steam off the mirror, perches on the edge of the counter, and faces Annabeth with pursed lips.

"Dress first," she orders. "Then hair, then makeup."

Luckily, Annabeth showered before Percy so she doesn't have to take care of that. She snags the dress from Percy's room and locks Piper and Lacy out of the bathroom while she changes, letting them back in as she surveys herself in the mirror.

The dress is dark blue with lace cap sleeves and a skirt that reaches her knees, but flares out enough that she won't have to worry about being restricted. Her knife is strapped to her thigh, so the dress covers it well enough. The only thing it doesn't manage to do is cover her scars.

She's contemplating this when the other girls enter the bathroom and look her up and down. Piper is the first to grin. "I guess it's okay," she mocks, which is what Annabeth said in the dressing room when they bought it.

Annabeth's too out of sorts to be amused, though. She's still grumpy from lack of sleep, and very much on edge. She rubs absently at the scar on her upper arm where the poisoned dagger sank in last summer – it's the most obvious, as it's long, ridged, and still tinged very faintly green. But there are lines of empousa talons on the other arm, scars from Tartarus that still tingle sometimes; there is the gash from Periboia on her leg and when she looks hard at her own skin she can still see rough patches and little hard bumps that will never go away, tiny blisters that the Tartarus air left permanently on her skin.

Normally she doesn't care – the blisters aren't obvious, and she wears clothes that distract from them. But this dress is meant to show off her body, and she feels more raw and visible than ever before.

Percy's lucky. His arms and legs will be covered. Hers will be out there, broadcasting her secrets to the world.

Piper puts a hand on her arm. "Annabeth," she says quietly. "I know you don't believe me, but you look stunning."

She's not sure if it's her lack of sleep or just the fact that she feels totally, woefully unprepared for this, but suddenly she wants to cry and has to bite her lip hard to hold back welling tears. She can't speak past the lump in her throat, but she fingers her scars, runs her hands over her skin –

"They make you look tough," pipes up Lacy. "Which you are." Annabeth looks over to see the younger girl giving her a surprisingly understanding smile. "And I have concealer if you want. But to be honest, I think you're more beautiful without."

Annabeth swallows hard. "Thanks," she manages to say in a slightly businesslike tone. Even if Aphrodite girls are the best with emotion, she still feels awkward revealing so much of herself. "But, um . . . I think concealer would be best. Don't want people asking too many questions, you know."

"Right," Lacy says shrewdly. "Well, I'll get you made up: beautiful and inconspicuous. But hair first."

When Lacy has finished, Annabeth can barely recognize herself in the mirror. Someone she doesn't know stands before her, someone with her eyes and basic facial structure, but someone much more beautiful than she has ever been.

The whole while she worked, Lacy was singing Annabeth's hair's praises, twisting the curls together and marveling at the "perfect ringlets." "I don't even need my curling wand!" she exclaimed at one point while Piper and Annabeth muffled smiles.

Then she turned to makeup, brushing concealer over the scars on Annabeth's arms and the (admittedly very faint) blisters on her face. Under the magic of Lacy's cosmetic brush, the dark circles under Annabeth's eyes disappeared and her eyelashes lengthened, giving her a – dare she say it? – flirty look.

"Wow," Annabeth breathes. She reaches up to touch her hair, where her curls are piled on top of her head with a few tendrils hanging around her face, but Lacy smacks her hand away.

"Don't touch!" she scolds. Stepping back, she cocks her head to the side. "Hmm. I'd say she looks stunning, huh, Piper?"

"You've got the magic touch, Lacy," says Piper, her voice both amused and impressed. "Not that she wasn't beautiful before."

Though she's still tired and nervous, Annabeth can't deny that seeing this beauty in the mirror has given her a shot of confidence. "Wow," she says again, amazed. "You're . . . you're incredible, Lacy. Thank you so much."

Lacy grins, already tucking things back into her enormous makeup bag – it's carefully compartmentalized, Annabeth notices, as organized as her own binder for school. "I live to serve. But I should leave you now; my Aphrodite-senses tell me Percy's standing confused in his bedroom right now trying to figure out how to tie his tie."

Whether that's Aphrodite-senses or not remains to be seen; more likely it's just that it's pretty obvious to anyone who knows Percy. All the same, Annabeth chuckles as she hears the door to Percy's room bang open and Lacy's voice, "No, no, no!" ring down the hall.

Piper laughs quietly, too, and gives Annabeth a hug. "You'll be fine," she says kindly. "Tonight will be great. You'll see."

"I'd feel more confident if you were Rachel saying that," murmurs Annabeth, but she squeezes Piper back.

And then the bathroom door opens a little more, Piper backs away, and Percy's standing in the doorway.

Annabeth feels suddenly exposed under his silent gaze; his eyes sweep over her, taking in the dress and the makeup and the hair, and finally coming to rest where she likes them: directly on hers.

Looks have never been the biggest part of their relationship – most important is the bond of trust they've spent years building and the inherent compatibility, followed by so many more important things – but when he gazes at her like that (looking sharp in his suit jacket and tie, not to mention), she can't help but feel a shiver of delight.

And then he steps forward, his arms flying into the air as though he doesn't dare touch her. His hands finally come to rest on her shoulders, his lips to her ear, and he whispers, "Aphrodite's got nothing on you."

He kisses her there, on the edge of her cheek right beside her ear, and then abruptly draws back. "Uh, no offense, Piper."

Piper cackles. "Shut up, Jackson. Treat your girlfriend right and I won't have to take revenge on you."

"Is there any other way to treat her?" Percy's voice is almost reverent, and Annabeth smiles, wrapping her arms around him and kissing the side of his head.

"Aww," sighs Lacy. "You two are so perfect. I think my work here is done."

"Yeah," chimes in Piper. "We'll just . . . see ourselves out."

"Cool," says Percy, moving his lips along Annabeth's jawline. With his head lowered, she can kiss along his temple and down the side of his face, which she proceeds to do.

"See you guys sometime," she murmurs against Percy's skin. "Thanks for everything."

Piper laughs again. "I think we get the message," she says. "We'll get out of your hair."

"Speaking of your hair," warns Lacy. "I worked hard on that. Don't mess it up unless you need to – like stabbing a monster with one of those bobby pins, for instance."

"Come on," chides Piper, and Annabeth's eyes flicker up to watch Piper drag her sister out the door. Then she's immediately occupied again.

After another minute or two, though, she lets out a regretful sigh and pushes Percy away, bracing her hands on his chest. "It's probably about time, isn't it?"

He moves away from her with a sigh of his own. "Probably. I don't actually know what time it is, but . . . must be close to five. We should head out if we don't want to be late." That he says as though he wouldn't really mind being late.

Annabeth pulls away, lacing her fingers through Percy's. "Your mom said she'd give us a ride, didn't she? We can head out whenever you're ready."

Ten minutes later they're climbing out of the Prius in front of Jason's apartment. The plan is to meet there for group pictures and then go out to dinner and the dance. Sally insisted on coming in with the other parents, so she drops Percy and Annabeth in front of the apartments and goes off to find parking, promising to be up in a few minutes while they go on ahead.

Annabeth presses the buzzer, and from the other room they can make out a cacophony of noise underlying Jason's voice. "Percy?"

"Yeah, it's us."

"Come on up." There's a buzz, and the door unlocks.

They've never been to Jason's apartment before, so when they enter they need to just stare around and take it all in. The place is much nicer than Percy's apartment – the furniture is newer and less shabby and the wall is covered in framed pictures of what must be Jason's family.

"Hey!" Jason himself bounds toward them now. "Come on in! Everyone else is here; we were just waiting on you two."

"Sorry," murmurs Annabeth. "We were just getting ready."

"No problem." Jason takes them both in. "You guys look great. Come on – there are snacks in the kitchen; that's where everyone else is hanging out."

They follow him through the living room and back into the kitchen, where five more people are lounging against counters and eating crackers smeared with cheese and little ham roll-ups. At the sight of so many people, Annabeth's hand tightens in Percy's and she can feel his pulse jump a little. She has to fight to keep her breathing normal herself; it's amazing how much she just doesn't trust people anymore.

"Hey, everyone, they're here!" announces Jason. "Do we all know each other?"

They know Emma, of course, and Henry – Annabeth has seen his date around the halls but doesn't have a name for the face. The other couple she doesn't know.

Jason goes around the room. "So this is Henry – you know him – and Makayla, his date; Emma is with me; and this is Hayley, Emma's friend – Percy, you know her – and her boyfriend Glen. He goes to another school. Guys, this is Percy and Annabeth."

There's a chorus of "hi"s and greetings. Jason grins back at them. "We'll do pictures in a few minutes – for now, help yourself to anything." He gestures at the table of snacks.

Percy pounces on the food; Annabeth keeps hold of his hand, finding a bowl of olives on the counter and selecting one for herself. Percy turns to look at her and snorts. "Typical Athena kid."

She elbows him. "Shut up."

After a few minutes of snacks and small talk, Jason disappears again at the sound of the buzzer and returns leading Sally in behind him. She's grinning broadly, a small camera hanging around her neck. "Hi," she gushes. "I'm Percy's mom – I'm glad to meet you, Jason; I've heard so much about you. Oh, and who are all of you?"

Percy sighs, but when Annabeth looks over she sees that he's smiling fondly. "My mom," he mutters under his breath.

"She's great," says Annabeth immediately. Part of her is still not used to Sally's warmth, to her unhesitating kindness. She's a mother figure the like of which Annabeth has never known, and sometimes she can't help but envy Percy for her.

Percy seems to know what she's thinking, though; he squeezes her hand and they go to join the group, where everyone is beginning to congregate in the living room for pictures. Jason's parents are there, of course, introducing themselves to everyone, and there seems to be at least one parent for every couple. They all hold cameras and ooh and ah over the outfits and the couples.

"So," says Jason's mom, wielding her camera like a pointer, "I thought we'd start with a couple of group shots. Maybe . . . guys in the back, and girls kneel in front of them? Yes, like that."

After several group shots, they move on to individual pictures of the couples. Jason and Emma go first; he wraps his arm around her shoulders and she puts a hand on his chest and kicks a leg up, both smiling broadly. Henry and Makayla follow them, standing next to one another in a classic pose with their arms linked.

Hayley and Glen are next, and her dress is long enough that he can sweep her up bridal-style. She shrieks with laughter as he holds her, wrapping her arms around his neck and tossing her head back while everyone claps.

Then it's Percy and Annabeth's turn. They stand in the middle of the room, unsure of how to pose.

"You could do what Hayley and Glen did," suggests Jason's mom. "Percy, if you pick Annabeth up" –

"No!" Annabeth blurts out. If her dress falls aside, her knife will be exposed – and she's not sure what the mortals will see, but it's not something she wants to find out. When they look at her curiously, though, she searches for a save. "Let's try it a different way, instead," she says quickly. She turns her back to Percy and bends down a little, holding her hands behind her in a clear invitation for a piggyback. "Climb aboard, Seaweed Brain."

This turns out to be a horrible mistake.

As soon as Percy is on her back, the phrase dead weight pops into her mind. Suddenly she's not here anymore; she's reliving one of the nightmares she has most often. It's a nightmare in which Bob doesn't come – in which he's so devastated at their betrayal that he doesn't help them fight the arai – and Percy is dying of gorgon's blood poison and Annabeth can't see but she knows he's hurt and he's about to abandon her for real; he's about to slip away forever and he's dead weight on her shoulders and she has to carry him to find help, but there's no help to be found –

And then she's back in the present, gasping on her knees on Jason's living room rug, trying to pull enough breath into her body to sustain her racing heart. Her ears are ringing; she can hear the vague, tinny sounds of Sally's voice, "Stay back; give her some space!"

And then Percy's face is in front of hers, blurry through her tears but filling her vision. "Annabeth!" he says. "Annabeth, calm down, I'm here!"

Her breath is still tearing at her throat, jagged gasps of icy air. "Percy?" she says, not trusting her eyes, not trusting her senses.

"I'm here," he repeats, and now she can feel his hands on her shoulders, strong and warm. "I'm here, I'm alive, we're both okay."

Her breathing starts to slow down. "You're here," she whispers. "You're here, you're alive, we're okay." She can hear her teeth chattering; she's shaking madly. "We're okay," she says again, trying to make herself believe it.

Percy slides his arms around her, and her hard pulse fades slowly back to normal. She holds him to her and breathes, and slowly the room comes back into focus. She can see the pattern on the rug; she can see the couch – and as she looks up, she can see the group of people in the corner of the room, all staring at her with frightened eyes.

". . . think we should call someone?" She hears a voice. "911 or something?" It's Jason's mother, hurrying back into the room with the phone.

"Please don't call 911." Annabeth recovers her voice, though it's raspy and trembling. "It's not – I'll be fine in a minute."

Percy keeps his arms around her, warm and solid. Slowly, she stops shaking. "Thanks," she whispers into his ear, so no one else can hear her.

"Of course." He makes no move to detach himself from her. "You know we're in this together, Annabeth."

...

Percy can tell that Annabeth's embarrassed, but frankly to him that pales in comparison to making sure she's all right.

He understands what happened, of course – she doesn't tell him what set her off, not in front of the others, but these episodes happen often enough that he knows it must have been something. They've been lucky up to now that they haven't happened in front of people, or at school (though either of those would have been preferable to on the battlefield).

He had just clambered up onto her back, laughing with the others, when it happened. His only warning was a slight tremor in her body and then her legs gave out. He barely had time to jump free before she was crashing to the ground, shaking and gasping, all her muscles locked tense.

Everyone else in the room cried out; Percy shot his mom a helpless glance and she hurried to calm them while he focused on Annabeth.

Now, after a moment of whispering to her and holding onto her, she's back to herself. He can almost watch her walls going back up, can see her eyes flickering around to where everyone else is standing and watching, and he sees her neck tauten.

"Oh, Styx," she says softly. "Now I need an explanation, don't I?"

He shakes his head and leans forward to whisper into her ear. "We don't have to stay," he murmurs. "We can just say you're not feeling well and go back right now."

But of course Annabeth refuses to give in, although she looks like she'll crumble at any time now. "No," she insists. "We should stay. Just . . . give me another minute."

He can hear her breathing slowing down; he presses the side of his head into hers and moves his hands to her shoulders, gently massaging her upper arms. Finally, he feels pressure on his shoulders; she's pushing herself to her feet and he rises with her, keeping hold of her arms.

"Sorry about that," she breathes, straightening fully and looking at the rest of the group.

"Um . . ." They all seem to be struck dumb, but Jason takes the lead, as usual. "No, don't apologize. Just – are you okay?"

"Yeah," she says. "I'm fine. It was just . . ." She hesitates for a long time, swallows, and then speaks again. "Just a panic attack. I get them sometimes. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure you're okay?" asks Jason's mother. She makes no move to come forward; staying at the back of the room as though she's afraid to approach. "Shouldn't we at least call your parents or something?"

"No!" says Annabeth, and Percy winces. Way to make a bad situation worse – he knows Annabeth still doesn't really trust her family, that they've always been further down on her list than Chiron or any of Camp Half-Blood. Not to mention that they're in California, and this whole situation is just way too difficult to explain.

"It really is fine," he adds, and he doesn't care what they all think of him or Annabeth; most important is just that they move on and don't attract any more attention. "So . . . where were we?"

They end up taking their "couple" picture back to back in the middle of the living room, arms folded over their chests. Percy tries to smile at the camera, but (as most of his smiles seem to do lately) he's pretty sure it falls flat on his face. And when he twists over to look at Annabeth, her smile is more like a pained grimace.

It must be the sleepless night, he decides. It's brought her closer to the edge – and probably him, too. He just hasn't had any chance to blow up or freak out. But hey, there are still a few hours left in the day.

...

END NOTES:

HAAAAAA so this is where I fizzled.

Rereading this story has made me feel so many feelings - both wistfulness for when I was writing it, some cringing at my melodrama and mythology-mortal mixing, and a pretty solid surety that I'll never pick it up again. But again, it was just going to go on like this - this kind of thing happening, trying to live a normal life and do high school things and overcome personal traumas (and codependency). I hope that if you've given this a chance, you've enjoyed it. Thank you for reading!

And, if you're interested, check out the Good Intentions WIP Fest on Tumblr and AO3 if you have abandoned works you want to showcase!