Percy hears the footsteps outside of his room on the Argo before he hears the knock. A part of him wonders who it could be- Piper, Leo, Hazel, and Frank were all below deck, he's not sure where Jason was, but he doubts it was him, and Annabeth was probably rifling through every plan in history, trying to make one that was fool-proof- while the other part lazily gets up and opens it.
"Wise girl," he answers, raising his eyebrows and not even bothering to hide the surprise in his voice, "I thought you'd be reading or something"
"Hey, Percy. Can I come in?"
He spreads out his arm, opening the door wider so she could slip past him.
"I was reading," she sighs, "But I needed to see you,"
He shuts the door and turns to face her, "Just can't stay away, can you?"
His grin is replaced by a look of concern, though, as she remains serious, "What's wrong? Is something bothering you?"
"Percy," She hesitates, biting her lip, "I talked to Jason earlier today,"
"Okay…?"
"Percy, he told me what happened. With Kym,"
Percy tenses. He's not sure what exactly Jason had told Annabeth, but based on the look on her face, it's not good.
"What did he tell you?" He asks, slowly
"He told me how she," Annabeth swallows, taking a breath, "How she choked you. With poison,"
His eyes fixate on a spot on the floor- nowhere in particular just as long as it's not on her eyes- the unspoken just like you did in Tartarus, hanging in the air, walking on a tightrope of tension. He remembers what it was like- being asphyxiated like that- his body screaming for air as his neck tingles from pain. How the only thing he could manage to think about was Akhlys and "It's your specialty, right?" and more, more, more -
"Percy?"
He snaps back to the present and unclenches the fists he hadn't realized he had been digging his nails into
"Yeah. I'm here," He says, his voice raw and raspy, even to him.
She nods slightly, and it looks like she wants to go towards him, but that's the last thing he wants her to do.
"Is that all?" He asks, whipping the little crescents of blood on his palm onto his jeans.
She shakes her head carefully as if she's afraid she'll break him if she moves too fast, "No. He told me about your conversation afterward. How you said you felt like-" Her breath hitches and he looks up at her, surprised, "How it felt like you deserved it,"
He's at her side without another moment's hesitation, wrapping his arms around her as she presses her face into his chest.
"It's okay, I'm sorry, I'm fine, 'Beth,"
She pulls away and looks up at him, "No. You're not fine, Percy! That's not okay!"
He frowns again, "I am fine, Annabeth. That was days ago. It doesn't mean anything,"
She squeezes her fists at her side, clenching her jaw, "Don't do that, Percy,"
"Do what?!"
"Don't blow it off like you always do! Like it doesn't matter-"
"It doesn't!"
"-because it does! Of course, it fucking does," She scoffs, looking at the wall
"What if it had been me?" She asks after a moment
"What?"
"Instead of you, in that position, what if it had been me? And I said I felt like I deserved it? Would the roles be switched? Would you be talking to me like I am you?"
He sighs because he knows she knows the answer, "Of course I would,"
"Then how is it different? Is it because I can't handle it?"
"That's not what I said, Annabeth, you're putting words in my mouth,"
"And you're avoiding the question! What's different?"
"I don't know!" He explodes, "Okay? I don't know."
He's lying and he knows it, but it's easier than telling her that the feeling of rotting from the inside out plagues him like the nightmares and the fear of hurting Annabeth. Because he knows the difference. Like how he knows she's scared of him and what he did down there will never be forgotten. By him or by Annabeth.
The difference is that it's true- it wouldn't matter if it was him, he does deserve it. She doesn't.
She seems to know he's lying, too, because she narrows her eyes, "Bullshit, Percy. You know why. You owe me an explanation,"
"I don't owe you a Godsdamn thing," he says, meeting her eyes
"Yes! You do! You've been distant. You're always tired, you're hardly around. We're not playing pretend, Percy. We can't just magically poof away our problems just because we don't like confronting them. We can't just ignore them,"
"I know that,"
"Do you?! Because it seems like that's all you're doing. Ignoring them,"
"No, I'm not,"
"Then stop acting like it's not a big deal!"
"Stop acting like it is!"
"I'm not acting, Percy!" She laughs bitterly, "I feel like I'm walking on eggshells, here! You're not giving me any answers!"
"I don't have any!" He yells, "Okay? I don't. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't give you what you want, I'm sorry I don't have answers, I'm sorry you can't solve me like one of your freaking puzzles! I'm sorry I'm not good enough!"
"I never said that,"
He scoffs, "You didn't have to,"
Annabeth looks like she wants to say something, but she just closes her eyes and takes a breath, "This isn't about me. This is about you,"
"Is it? Annabeth, is it really?"
"Yes," she snaps, "It is,"
"I'm not the one who came in here looking for a fight!"
"It wouldn't have been a fight if you'd just talk to me. Please!"
He grits his teeth and looks away, "I don't have anything to say,"
Her expression hardens again, and she clenches her fists again, once, twice- as if he's done something to personally offend her as if he was the one that started this- spins on her heel and, without so much as another uttered word, slams the door, leaving him alone.
