Before.

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Percy heard the apartment door open and close, but didn't lift his head off the back of the couch. He could feel the exhaustion behind his eyeballs, drilling deep into his skull, so he almost felt like he was coming down with the flu. His laptop screen had gone dark; his unfinished essay wouldn't be turned in tonight, after all.

The baby hadn't stopped crying for two hours, even after he'd pulled out every last trick in the book. Apparently sometimes they just did that. Apparently it wasn't his fault. Apparently being a parent could feel like the worst practical joke ever played.

"Hey!" The sound of her heels on the kitchen floor clacked back and forth. "How was your day?" She didn't wait for an answer. "So, at the event – you'll never guess who was there! He's the most influential…"

A sharp throbbing picked up in Percy's forehead. He hadn't eaten or drank water or even showered.

"…and liked my ideas! I mean, sometimes they just say these things – but it was so great to get my foot in the door…" Cupboard doors opened and closed. The tap ran and stopped.

"And gods, I'm just dying to get these heels off…it's such a double standard, but that's how it goes…"

"You're going to wake her." Percy didn't open his eyes. His lips barely even moved.

"And it's exhausting, but hopefully, you know, it'll be worth it—wait, what?" There was a short pause. "Did you say something?"

"You're going to wake her up, and I only just got her to sleep again."

In the silence that followed, Percy finally opened his eyes. Annabeth stood in the doorway to the kitchen on his left. Her sheer stockinged feet were bare, she was wearing a short black dress and coat, and her hair was coming loose, hanging in disarrayed curls down her back. Somewhere in his abstract mind, he noted how heartbreakingly beautiful she was. The thought came and went.

Her arms folded. "Well, hi to you too."

"Yeah. Hi. Where have you even been?"

Her mouth opened. "Where have I—where have I been? Are you kidding? The networking event—I told you!"

Percy scrubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah, but see, you didn't. When are you going to get your phone fixed?"

"Uh, maybe when we have some freaking money? And I did. Okay? I told you last night, and apparently you weren't listening."

Percy got up and walked past her into the kitchen. "Yeah? You told me you weren't coming home for the billionth night in a row? Because I think I would've remembered that. But maybe I should just assume, from now on."

Annabeth drew a breath. "Are you kidding me? I have to work! Where the hell is this coming from—?" She stopped, possibly realizing it was a stupid question.

"Do you have to, though?" Percy turned to face her. "Because your day officially ended hours ago, Annabeth. We both know what time you get off work. You're choosing to go to these extra events. You're choosing to not come home."

"Oh, my gods. I can't believe you! We need money. I can't abandon my career for your—for your comfort or ego or—"

"She's your DAUGHTER, Annabeth! She's not an inconvenient career setback, or something you can keep avoiding! She's your DAUGHTER."

There was a beat of silence, and then frantic baby crying erupted from the next room.

They both remained frozen, staring at each other. Finally Annabeth spoke, her voice both furious and quavering with emotion, clearly near tears. "You think—you think that what? That I don't love her? That I don't want this? You think that I'm not entirely fucking exhausted? Because you're about to leave for work, and then I'll be here, up with her all night long—don't you dare imply that I'm a bad mother, or that—that this isn't the hardest fucking thing—!" Annabeth's hands went to her temples, tears tracking her face.

Percy turned away and filled a glass of water from the sink. "Well I'm failing out of grad school because nothing ever gets done, and yeah, I do have to go to work now. Although I might get fired for not showing up twice in the last two weeks, because you decided to go to cocktail parties. Also, the rent is due. Also, if you didn't hear, the baby is crying."

He put down the glass, went and grabbed his coat, and walked out the door.

…

"Thanks for taking her."

Percy spoke in a low voice, so as not to wake the sleeping baby.

His mother gave him a long look. "You don't need to ever thank me, Percy. How was work?"

There was a short pause. "It was fine," he said. She didn't ask any more questions; they both knew he didn't like his work at the marine lab. It was why he was enrolled in an online graduate program, turning toward a degree in social work.

Sally smoothed a hand over Grace's soft hair. "How's Annabeth?"

Now there was a longer pause. It was Sunday; Percy worked weekends and some weekday night shifts, while Annabeth worked weekdays and took care of Gracie over the weekend. They were both stretched to breaking point, but childcare was too expensive. Sally and their friends helped how they could, but they had jobs, too.

That morning, however, Annabeth had woken with a temperature, claiming dizziness and nausea. Percy had still had to work, so he'd taken Grace to Sally.

"She's...fine." He sighed and looked out the window. "I think she's just tired."

He was avoiding Sally's eyes. He knew there was more to her question than Annabeth's immediate wellbeing. It wasn't exactly a secret that they were struggling, in more ways than one.

Sally considered him. "I think you're both tired, honey. Listen, one night this week, why don't we take Gracie for the night, and you can cook Annabeth dinner? Or you could take her out! I think just a little time—"

"No." Percy picked up Grace in her car seat. "Not right now."

He didn't want his mother to know how bad things really were. That whatever they needed, it wasn't a night alone to sit in loaded silence, or fight without the threat of waking the baby. The day before he'd come home to find Annabeth lying on the couch with a hand over her face, while Grace sat in her playpen and cried beside her. "She's teething," Annabeth had said before Percy could speak. "She's teething and I have tried every goddamn thing you're supposed to try, but she won't stop."

Percy resented that he immediately doubted her; what he was seeing was the opposite of trying. But it wasn't as though he hadn't been in similar positions.

He went to the kitchen. "We put the teething ring in the freezer, remember? It's supposed to help."

He hadn't meant for his voice to sound so accusing, but that was how it came out. Annabeth didn't reply.

While he tried to soothe Gracie, Annabeth had gotten up and started boiling noodles. "The rent is late," she'd called from the kitchen, voice thick. "The super knocked on our door today. We're going to have to do something." The rent in their building had just been raised. They were barely scraping by, with all the bills and expenses. Having a child was more expensive than they ever could have imagined.

He sighed, sitting on the floor with Gracie and letting her gnaw the teething ring. Annabeth came and stood in the doorway. "Maybe you can take on more weekday shifts at the lab."

He looked at her. "And what, exactly, would we do with Grace?"

She'd lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Maybe your mom can help out."

"My parents have to work too, Annabeth. We don't have childcare."

Annabeth had thrown up her hands. "Well, I'm sorry for trying to find a solution so we're not thrown out on the streets! Maybe you could try to come up with something, for once!"

He'd looked back at Gracie, face set, trying to swallow the anger that felt so on-surface lately. When you were both this sleep deprived and this stressed, snapping—in any sense of the word—was ridiculously easy.

They'd barely spoken for the rest of the night.

Now, Percy took the diaper bag from his mother, who was still looking at him too closely, too quietly, and left before she could say anything else.

When he got back to the apartment, Annabeth was still in bed. He put Gracie in her crib and went quietly into the bedroom, hovering for a moment in the doorway before going to her side and resting a gentle hand on her forehead. Her temperature seemed to have gone down.

Her eyes fluttered open. "Hi," she whispered, pulling the covers tighter to her chest.

"How're you feeling?"

She was quiet. "Okay," she said finally. Her eyes were trained on the wall.

Percy withdrew his hand. "Do you need anything?"

She shook her head.

Percy wavered. He almost did what his instincts told him; to crouch by her side of the bed, brush back her hair, and tenderly ask what she really needed, how she really was, to call her baby like he used to, to get her to really, actually talk to him.

He almost did that. But the rest of him just knew he'd be rejected, as usual. The rest of him felt resentment for—well, too many things. So he sighed, grabbed his computer, and walked out, closing the door behind him.

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Author's Note: Not a super long chapter, but a chapter nonetheless. As always, would love to hear your response. (Unless it's mean).