A/N: I'd like to thank my betas: AlEmily360, SapphireTrafficker, tigerlilycorinne, AshenMoon42, Lesbian101, Shiuanc2, and LadyHW.

"Mom? Mom, I am at the front. By the spotted buses. Yeah, I see your car." Annabeth hung up her phone and waved at the shadow of her mother, pulling up in a white, four-door sedan. She opened the back of the sleek car and set her luggage down before climbing into the shotgun seat, and out of the blustery New York air.

"Hey," she said, buckling her seat belt. She stretched her legs out—much better than an airplane.

"Buckle up," her mother, Athena, said.

Annabeth just sighed, leaning into the leather seat as her mother pulled out of the airport arrivals exit. They moved slowly through the predictably horrible JFK holiday traffic, Athena pursing her lips tensely beside her. Annabeth studied her through the corner of her eye. Her mother was wonderfully graceful looking, with delicate hands and regal posture. Her dark hair was greying, despite her best efforts to keep up with dyeing it, and her fine wrinkles betrayed her age, as well as the fact that she tended to frown a lot. Still, she looked put together and intimidating, as always. Well, almost always.

She seemed to notice Annabeth watching her. "Have you been keeping up with your schoolwork?" she asked, eyes facing ahead.

Annabeth nodded. "Yes."

"Good. You can't start slacking just because—"

"I know." Annabeth interrupted irritably.

Athena sighed. "I know you know. I was just reiterating." She paused for a second, as if considering her next words. "Is there—how are things with your friends? Poppy, and Luke?"

Annabeth turned to face the window, not bothering to correct her. "They're fine," she said through her teeth. She watched the buildings and bare trees pass as they drove through Queens.

Athena seemed like she wanted to say something else, but her phone began beeping insistently. "Sorry Annabeth, I have to take this," she said, and before Annabeth could respond, she was clicking a button on her Bluetooth and speaking. "Hello, this is Athena Olympios. Yes. Mhmm."

Annabeth tuned her out for the rest of the drive. So this is going to be like for all of the other holidays with her, Annabeth thought unhappily. It wasn't that she didn't love her mom; she did, if only out of obligation, it was that sometimes she wasn't sure if her mom even loved her. She'd always spent every holiday working, in countless conferences and meetings with potential clients. She was a manager for private collectors, which seemed like it could be cool, if she would ever talk to Annabeth about it. If she would ever talk to Annabeth at all.

Annabeth put in her headphones as they drove through the Queens Midtown Tunnel and crossed over into Manhattan. She tapped her foot to her music and tried to space out as she watched the buildings grow larger and larger as they drove into Midtown.

They turned down a row of tall, shiny apartments and down into the underground garage.

"Annabeth, dear. You need to get out before I pull in. The space on your side is too small," Athena said. Annabeth hadn't even noticed when the car had stopped. She nodded and got out of the door and then watched as Athena pulled into the tiny space in the dark garage. She wrapped her arms around her body and shivered. It was almost colder here than at the university.

Athena helped her unload her bag from the back of the car and they walked over to the elevator. Annabeth reached over to press the button before her mom could, a juvenile game she used to play when she was younger. Athena rolled her eyes.

As the elevator brought them to the twenty-third floor, Athena frowned at her phone. "Okay," she sighed. "Now that's sorted. Annabeth, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave a few days early."

Annabeth thought about how many days that would leave her. "Wait...before Thanksgiving?"

Athena looked at her calendar. "Yes, the day before. A client wants me to fly to Germany to see a piece in person. I already have your plane ticket back, so you don't need to worry about that."

"You're going to Germany? For my last—" Annabeth stopped herself. There wasn't any use arguing—work came first. Always.

"That's okay, right?" Athena lifted her eyes from her phone to watch Annabeth nod. "Good. I forwarded the ticket to your email. Can you confirm you got it?"

Annabeth opened her phone and checked her email. Delta Airlines, forwarded from Athena Olympios, three minutes ago. "I got it," Annabeth said.

The elevator dinged open and Athena stepped out, leading the way down the bare hallways. She stopped at the last door—number eight—opened it, and went in. Annabeth followed through, wrestling her bag through the door.

Annabeth looked around the flat observing that it was no different than the last time she was here. It had the same pristine, never-been-lived-in kind of look. Everything was white marble and grey stainless steel, like a mix of past and present. Annabeth hated to admit how much she liked the idea, even if the execution lacked personality.

"I'm going to go into my office to send out a few emails. I'll be out later and we can have dinner together. You can make yourself at home for now, Annabeth," Athena said, disappearing through a door off the living room.

Annabeth walked to her room while her mom closed the door of the study that she had just disappeared into. Her room was nearly as bare as the living room. She'd never had much to begin with, and she'd taken everything she did have with her to college.

She laid her bag on the bed, not bothering to unpack yet, and grabbed a huge jacket and gloves. She shoved a warm hat over her flight-messy hair. Pocketing her phone, wallet and keys, she left her room and knocked on the door of her mom's office.

"Mom, I am going out. I will be back soon," she called.

"Be back by dinner!" Athena yelled back through the door.

When Annabeth left the building she looked left and right. She wasn't exactly sure where she wanted to go, only that she wanted to go somewhere. Maybe she would try to find a small park. Two people passed her holding steaming Starbucks cups. Maybe she'd try to find a Starbucks.

Luckily, Starbucks is not very hard to find. Annabeth only had to walk one block from her mother's apartment to find one. She entered the shop and the familiar corporate same-ness and the smell of coffee greeted her. Annabeth almost expected Percy to be grinning at her from behind the counter.

The girl behind the counter had thirty-six and a half more years to live and several piercings on her face, including one on her lip. The only other person she knew who could rival this girl's hardware was Thalia, but all of her piercings had been removed the last time she visited. They'd probably still be gone the next time as well.

"Can I have a London Fog?" she asked. At the girl's confused expression, she added "Earl grey latte with two pumps of vanilla."

The girl's face cleared. She gave Annabeth a bored look. "Size?"

"Big?" Annabeth said. As much as she'd visited Percy recently, she still didn't remember the special size names.

"One venti earl grey latte with two pumps of vanilla for…?"

"Annabeth."

Annabeth paid and moved to the side. When her name was finally called, she took her drink and sampled it. Something was different from the way Percy made it. It was still good, but it wasn't a "Lunar Lake Latte."

The cold air stung her cheeks. She wove her way through the crowded streets, under construction ramps, and around steaming manhole covers. Even in a nice area like this, New York was dirty and smelly and cramped. But outside of her mother's apartment, it finally felt like home. She remembered exploring these streets with Thalia and Luke when she had first moved here, awed and nervous about living in such a big city on the other side of the country. It had all felt like an adventure back then.

Annabeth arrived at Central Park around the same time she finished her tea. She tried to figure out exactly where she was; it had been so long since her exploring days. She passed an empty green with an assortment of baseball diamonds. Runners jogged past her, puffs of mist coming out of their mouths. Other visitors were bundled up in sweaters, cheeks as pink as hers probably were. She followed the path around the baseball field and walked past a cropping of smooth black rocks. Something tickled at the back of her memory. There should be a carousel near here…

There it was. A red and white brick building sat among the nearly bare trees. She could hear children laughing and twinkling music drifted across the pavement. Annabeth was pleased to be right, and relieved that her memory of the place was still accurate. Walking up to the squat building, she peered in.

Children squealed on brightly painted wooden horses, their parents standing next to them with weary expressions. Annabeth watched as a little girl, looking like a pink marshmallow in all of her layers, clung onto a sandy coloured horse with an orange saddle. Her mother held onto her sides, keeping her tiny body balanced on the horse's back.

Annabeth turned away from the carousel, looking towards the sky. The clouds were becoming darker with the threat of rain, or possibly even snow, and the promise of nighttime. It was probably time to head back.

But first, she took a picture of the carousel and sent it to Piper.

Annabeth- I miss you! The weather here is even worse than the weather at home. How's LA?

Then Annabeth took a picture of her empty cup and sent it to Percy.

Annabeth- How do you make the Lunar Lake?

Neither Percy nor Piper responded right away, so Annabeth started walking back. Maybe she would get another tea on her way back.

:::

Annabeth closed the door of the apartment behind her and took off her now-soaked jacket. An icy rain had started throwing itself from the sky as she was about five minutes away from the apartment. Shivering with the wet, her frozen hands trembled as she pulled her damp sweater off.

Tossing it in the hamper, Annabeth sighed. Her mother was still in her office. She could hear the clack of the keyboard as she passed.

She changed into dry clothes, setting her suitcase on the ground next to her bed. She wondered about the odds of her mother not being able to join her for dinner at all. The probability was getting higher by the minute.

Her stomach rumbled as she checked the time. The sky outside had grown dark faster than she had realized, and her phone screen lit up her dark room. Six forty-two. She pulled herself up and went to knock on her mom's door.

"Hey, mom?"

The clacking of the keyboard didn't stop.

"Mom?" she called louder. Silence. And then—

"Oh, Annabeth, I'm sorry." Annabeth stepped back as her mom opened the door. "I didn't even see what time it was. I've still got—" Athena gestured back towards her computer and the stack of papers next to it.

"Do you want me to order takeout?" Annabeth said, not surprised, yet somehow still disappointed.

Athena's shoulders slumped and she rubbed a delicate hand over her face. "Could you?"

"Sure," Annabeth said, as her mother was already closing the door. "I'll let you know when it gets here."

"You could just bring it in to me," Athena said flippantly. The door closed softly in Annabeth's face.

So, she thought, same as usual. Her mother had always been distant. She was proud of Annabeth, she knew that, but proud in the way someone was proud of a pet when it rolled over on command. She wasn't sure if it was because of her timer or just because Athena was just like that, but it ultimately didn't matter.

And it made sense. She'd only moved here when she was around fifteen, after she had left her dad, and had spent most of her time running around with Thalia and Luke. This, or any of the other apartments, had never been a home to her. It was a waystation, somewhere for her to stop before she moved on.

Sometimes Annabeth thought her mom knew that. That was why she had never tried to get her to stay, because she knew that Annabeth couldn't be happy here.

She called for Chinese food and waited to buzz the delivery person into the building. Sitting on the couch, inconveniently white and thus untouchable, she opened Netflix on her computer. Putting on something calming and vaguely frivolous, she sat back and let the weight of the day wash over her. She'd be here for another two days before leaving for Thanksgiving. The irony of it was that she was rather grateful for the shortened schedule. The less time spent here, the better.

Her phone buzzed.

Percy- im not revealing my secrets

Along with his message, he had sent a picture of himself, bundled in a hand-knit scarf on a grey-looking beach. She couldn't see his mouth, but from the crinkle around his eyes, she could tell he was smiling.

Annabeth- are you staying on campus for the break?

Percy- im in montauk w my mom

He sent another picture, this time in a small, pale cabin with his arm slung around the shoulders of the woman from the candy shop. She was smiling widely and pushing his face away, the same crinkle around her eyes as Percy.

Percy- your in the city right? We could meet up

As much as Annabeth wanted to, she knew she couldn't. What small amount of time she had had already been filled.

Annabeth- I don't think so, i'm leaving early

Her phone rang and then abruptly hung up. Ahh, the Chinese. She pressed the buzzer and held it for a few seconds.

Percy- that sucks. Leo's going to be on campus too

Annabeth wasn't sure Leo was the kind of company she wanted for Thanksgiving, but sometimes someone was better than no one. She got up at the knock at the door, coming back to rest (dangerously) on the white couch with her food. Setting her own food aside, she took her mother's favorite chicken lo mein to her door.

"Food's ready," she said, opening it.

"Mhm. Yes. No, I don't think that would work for my client." Athena waved Annabeth over and gestured for her to set the food on her desk. Thank you, she mouthed, before saying into her phone "I understand, but I need to bring in our own authenticator—"

Annabeth left, closing the door silently behind her.

:::

"Annabeth," her mother said the next morning, standing by the marble kitchen counter with a cup of coffee. "I think we should begin making arrangements."

Annabeth had just left her room and was beginning to pour herself a bowl of cereal, quite un-pristinely. Annabeth rolled her eyes. It would have been nice to hear a "good morning," but that wasn't her mother. Athena was straight to business.

It wasn't always nice to think about her death at eight in the morning, though. That was what Athena meant when she said "making arrangements." Apparently saying "I think we should plan your funeral" was too harsh for her too.

"Okay," Annabeth said because she wasn't completely awake yet.

"Are you doing anything today?"

Annabeth sighed. "What do you have planned?"

Athena straightened up and checked her calendar on her phone. "You have an appointment with Ethan Atos at one to discuss your will. I've sent the details to your phone."

Annabeth sighed again as she felt her phone buzz. "Okay, I'll be there. Are you—" She pursed her lips, ashamed to even be asking. "Are you going to come with me?"

A brief look of sympathy flickered over her mother's face. "I'm afraid not. I have a meeting to get my Germany trip squared away."

Annabeth pressed her lips together and nodded. She tried not to let the disappointment bleed onto her face. It wasn't that she thought her mother would come with her, or even necessarily that she wanted Athena there. But sometimes having someone was better than having no one.

Athena nodded, hesitating by the sink and for a second looking like she would turn around and say something else to Annabeth. But instead, she rinsed out her cup and put it in the dishwasher before heading back to her office.

"Remember," she said at the door. "One o'clock. Don't be late."

"I won't," Annabeth said, even though the door had already closed. Damn.

:::

At four o'clock, Annabeth collapsed onto her bed, exhausted. Ethan Atos, her mother's lawyer, had drilled her over her possessions and who would inherit them for hours. It wasn't even like Annabeth had that much to give. Who knew arranging for your death was so brutal.

Evaluating her life in terms of things made her feel empty. There was a hollow gap where all of the experiences she should have had, should have dreamt of, were missing. Growing up, she knew where she would end up. Sure, there were things she had wanted, places she pasted posters of in her room and buildings she sketched into the margins of her notes only to be crumpled and thrown away. But that was all they were—paper dreams, meant to be thrown away.

Longing was a feeling Annabeth knew well, and had become even more acquainted with in the past few months. And it didn't have to be longing anymore. It could be having. All throughout her meeting, she couldn't help thinking of Percy. If she was brave enough, strong enough, selfish enough, she could have everything she wanted, all of the plans and places she could imagine. She could have a future.

But was it the right thing? Percy was a person, not a pawn for her to use as she saw fit. And he was a person she cared about. Even if she could live a long life with him—would she be able to live with herself?

Despite the hour, Annabeth felt like she could fall asleep. There was nothing better to do. It wasn't worth going outside—even with the ongoing sleet, the streets were chock full of tourists who had arrived to see the Thanksgiving Day Parade. It had taken ages for her taxi to take her back to the apartment. Annabeth knew she should have just taken the subway, but she had lost her metro card and wasn't sure she wanted to put her hair through standing in a crowded and humid subway car.

Rather than going out again, she closed her eyes and drifted into unconsciousness.

When Annabeth woke up again, it was dark. She wandered into the living room, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. Her mom still wasn't back from wherever she had gone and the flat was as silent as a tomb. A stainless steel-marble tomb.

Annabeth went around and turned on all of the lights. It was only eight, so Annabeth reheated her leftover Chinese food and sat by the living room windows. Tomorrow would be her last day in New York. She tried to feel sad that her mother wasn't trying to spend more time with her, but it was an abstract feeling. She only wished for the concept of a mother—someone who went to meetings with her, ate dinner with her, and helped her balance as the world spun out of control around her. But she already knew—the world was unfair that way.

It was unfair in so many ways. Tomorrow would be spent at a hospital bedside, next to her friend, her past. Next to time and the world, stilled. Tomorrow, she would visit Thalia.

:::

Annabeth tapped her foot against the linoleum floor of the hospital. She hadn't been here in...how long? A year? More? But it still felt like yesterday that she had been nervously pacing this same floor, waiting, waiting for…

"Annabeth Chase?"

Annabeth looked up. A hurried nurse stood in the door leading from the waiting room to the Blue Ward—long-term patients.

"Her check-up is done, do you know the room?" The nurse wasn't looking at her, instead, checking her clipboard.

It didn't matter. She didn't need a nurse to tell her where to go, the location was still branded on the back of her skull.

Annabeth walked down the quiet halls, following a line of blue linoleum tiles to Thalia's room. She pressed the door open and immediately was assaulted by memories. Flashes of her friend, arms slick with blood, an IV dripping meds into her system, her heartbeat slowing, slowing until Annabeth was forced out of the room by frantic doctors.

She took a second to reorient herself. Inhale. Exhale.

In reality, the room was empty except for a single bed in the center, surrounded by machines, and a small table and chair for guests. There were no flowers, no cards or balloons. There never had been. Instead, a TV murmured in the corner and machines beeped, recording her heartbeat, her oxygen levels, her blood pressure. A window on the other side of Thalia's bed let in the dreary light from outside.

Annabeth drew the single chair next to the bed and peered at the figure lying under the covers.

Thalia was barely recognizable. Her hair was blonde, her original colour all grown out, now only the ends were dyed black. Her cheeks and eye sockets were hollow and her skin ashen, like all of the life had been drained out of her. Annabeth supposed it had. Someone had taken all of her piercings out years ago. Her face looked as naked and devoid of personality as her room.

Annabeth placed her hand on the starched sheets, nearly touching the tips of Thalia's fingers. She had held her hand before, but it scared her now. Even with her warm skin and her pulse faintly drumming in her wrist, she seemed like a corpse. Like she'd been slowly decomposing, losing everything that made her her, for five years.

Annabeth had been seventeen, Thalia only two years older. Thalia didn't attend college—she was what she called a "revolutionary" and what her father called a "useless lay-about." But Annabeth had worshipped her, with her strong passion for justice and her fearlessness in the face of authority. By the time she had been living with her mother for a year, she had become complacent in her own life. But Thalia had pulled her out, and it was the three of them—Annabeth, Thalia, and Luke against the world.

But then she had left them. They had found her with her timer half hanging out of her arm, awash in blood. Skin pale and lifeless, lying in her father's flat during one of his work trips. And she was gone.

They had coped the only ways they knew how. Luke clung on even tighter to the past, to Annabeth. And Annabeth had tucked herself away, had buried herself in practicalities and short-term plans. She had pushed the anger and grief to the back of her mind, only taking them out on lonely nights to turn them over in her mind.

Annabeth took a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about such things. She didn't come here to be angry or to mope. She just came to...tell Thalia about her life. Annabeth had read somewhere that people in comas could hear everything people say to them. She hoped that was the case. She had a lot to say.

"Hey Thalia," she started. Annabeth looked to make sure the door was closed before continuing. "It's been a while."

Annabeth closed her eyes tightly and grabbed Thalia's hand, trying not to flinch and drop it again. She hoped Thalia could feel it, could feel her here.

"It's Thanksgiving Break now. November twenty-second. It was raining earlier, but it's not anymore. Still fucking freezing though. Um..."

She went on to talk about her school and her friends. She told Thalia about her mother and her ongoing email exchange with her father. When she got to the subject of Luke, she pivoted, instead talking about Silena, trying not to choke up. It felt nice to just talk, whether Thalia was able to listen or not. She hadn't realized how much she just needed to unload.

Finally, she couldn't avoid the subject anymore. "So, the guy I mentioned earlier, who I became friends with—Percy…"

She could imagine Thalia's voice. Yeah, what about him?

"He's not a friend. I mean—he is, it's just—he's something else too," Annabeth said, wincing.

Wait, so what about Luke?

"Luke and I broke up," Annabeth said. She remembered the day she told Thalia about their relationship. She had hoped that Thalia really wasn't listening then, and she was hoping the same now.

Well fuck. What happened?

"It's—" Annabeth didn't want to explain the person Luke had become. Even to this sleeping Thalia, she didn't want to reveal the truth. "It's complicated."

Then don't tell me. And this Percy guy…?

Annabeth sighed. "It's also complicated." She hesitated, wondering how much she wanted to say.

Christ, Annie, are you waiting for me to respond?

Annabeth huffed out a breath, leaning over Thalia to watch her eyes move behind her eyelids. "Alright, jeez." She sat back, letting go of Thalia's hand. "I like him. A lot. But…" She searched for the words. "I'm having a bit of a moral dilemma."

Thalia was as silent in her head as she was in real life.

"My timer is...malfunctioning. Around him. Whenever I'm with him, my numbers change. It says—" She rolled up her sleeve and peeled the tape off of her arm. It still read seven months, nineteen days, thirty-four, thirty-three, thirty-two… "It says I'm going to live longer. Much longer."

She placed the tape over her timer again and pulled her sleeves back down. Outside, she heard heavy footsteps quicken down the hallway, past the door. She waited until they were gone.

"I'm not really sure what it means. I mean, I can guess, but… I don't know what to do. I really like him, but I don't want to lie to him. But if he knew the truth—" She exhaled slowly and rubbed her hands over her face.

"I wish you were here. You always knew what to do. You would know—" Annabeth ran out of breath and paused. "You would know what I should do. I don't have a plan for this."

Annabeth looked over Thalia's still body, hoping for a miracle. Thalia remained stiff, breathing shallowly, expression a picture of neutrality. Annabeth pressed her lips together, blinking quickly as her eyes stung.

The door opened and a different nurse from before peeked in.

"Ma'am, visiting time will be over in five minutes, so I suggest you say your goodbyes," he said, pointing to the clock on the wall. Annabeth nodded, too tired to argue and not enough of an asshole to make the exhausted nurse deal with her.

"Okay Thalia," she said once the door had closed. "I guess this is goodbye. I'll visit you again, I promise. Before, well, you know."

Annabeth stood up and made her way to the door. She leaned against the doorframe and looked around the room. Everything was exactly the same as it had been when she had first entered. It was the only stable thing in her life, and the thing she wished would change the most. The door closed behind her and she left the hospital.

:::

The night before she left, her mother finally sat down to have dinner with her. They had ordered in again, Vietnamese food this time. Her mother sat primly trying to eat a banh mi as Annabeth slurped at her pho. She enjoyed every pained expression that crossed her mother's face at each loud slurp. It made her seem more...human somehow.

"Annabeth, could you try not to eat that so loudly?" Athena said, putting her sandwich down and looking at her daughter with exasperation.

"In some cultures, it's polite to slurp," Annabeth said, feeling every bit the petulant child she was acting.

Athena sighed and rubbed her temples. "Don't be a smart ass."

"Half of that is a compliment," Annabeth said. She was too old to be acting so immaturely, but, well...it was fun.

Athena nibbled at the bread of her sandwich and then deigned to pull it apart in order to save her lipstick. "Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?" she asked.

Annabeth stopped her slurping and put down her spoon sullenly. "No, not really."

"Why don't you spend it with your friends?" Athena said, not noticing, or maybe not caring about Annabeth's mood change.

"It's a holiday. They're all gone."

"Really? Even, um, Poppy?" Athena rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. "I wouldn't think she would celebrate."

"Piper doesn't," Annabeth said. Piper didn't celebrate Thanksgiving since it was a "celebration of genocide" (Annabeth couldn't help but agree), but she did go visit her dad in California or sometimes Oklahoma every year. "She's still visiting her family."

"That's nice. Don't you have any other friends? What about Luke? He's not close with his family, is he?"

Annabeth bit her cheek, feeling her face heat up. Luke used to come over to her house for Thanksgiving, where they would watch the parade on TV and eat whatever turkey take-out her mother ordered for them. Sometimes Thalia would join, if her father let her.

"He's out of town too."

Her mother hummed. "That's too bad. I'm sure you'll find something to do."

It didn't really matter to Annabeth whether or not she celebrated Thanksgiving. What mattered was that her mother didn't seem to care to spend it with her.

"Yeah, probably," she said, just to make the conversation end.

Athena stood up, wrapping the rest of her banh mi in foil. "I'm going to get a little more work done before I leave. Go to bed early tonight. You have an early flight and I'm not going to be here to wake you up."

"Okay. What time is your flight?"

Her mom wrinkled her nose. "Three AM."

"That sucks," Annabeth said, because it was the right thing to say.

"It does." Athena stopped by her bedroom door for a second, tapping her fingers against the frame. "I'm—" Her face twisted into something painful with the effort. "I'm sorry."

Annabeth lifted her head from her soup. She didn't think she'd ever heard her mother apologize so sincerely before.

"I'm not trying to be—" Her mother said, for once looking at a loss. "If I don't see you before you leave...I love you."

And although she had a peculiar way of showing it, Annabeth knew that she did. "I know," she said, happy to know it was the right thing as relief crossed her mother's face.

:::

Annabeth took an overpriced cab to the airport and paid using the money her mother had left her on the dining room table. It had come with a note, written in Athena's messy scrawl. Her mother's handwriting was maybe one of Annabeth's favorite things about her.

Annabeth,

Use this for the cab and breakfast JFK. Leave by 5:45 to make your flight.

Have a good trip

Love,

Athena

It was short and succinct, like most of their conversations, but between the lines Annabeth could read how much her mother cared. She was by no means perfect, or usually even good, but some part of her cared for Annabeth. And for Annabeth, that was enough.

:::

Percy- you're back today, right?

Percy- i hope you had a safe flight

Hazel- are you having a nice break? Happy holidays from New Orleans [image attached]

Piper- LA is...LA. We're going up to big sur today tho

Piper- Big Sur! [image attached] [image attached] [image attached]

Annabeth took her time responding to messages after she got off the plane. Even though she already knew it, it was nice to have reassurance that her friends thought of her when she was away. It was easy to feel lonely in New York.

Hazel's picture was predictably sweet. She stood in the foreground of a shabby red brick creole townhouse and a large tree, dripping with Spanish moss. She smiled widely, hair put into two poofs on the sides of her head. She'd told Annabeth about her plans to stay at an Airbnb in her hometown and, judging from her picture, she seemed happy with her choice. Annabeth was something close to envious—she'd always wanted to go to New Orleans.

Annabeth- It's alright! That looks beautiful

Piper sent a succession of photos. The first showed a foggy beach lined with bent cypress trees. The second was of her dad, running with a surfboard into the dark grey water of the Pacific. The last photo was apparently the moment after he tripped, his face pressed into the sand and his board lying beside him. The photo was slightly blurry, like Piper had been laughing while she took it. Annabeth had only met Tristan McLean once before. He had seemed kind yet cool. One of Piper's favorite activities was disproving that last adjective.

Annabeth- have fun!

She tried not to feel sorry for herself as she opened the door to her dorm room. Ignoring the other side of the room, she laid down on her bed, bringing her pillow over her eyes. There was something so exhausting about air travel, even when it was two hours long. Her phone buzzed and she lifted the pillow up off of her face.

: Earn $5 in one click. Just join...Annabeth deleted the email and shoved the phone back under herself irritably. Maybe she should just take a nap….

But then her phone buzzed again.

Hazel- it is! I haven't been back in so long!

Hazel- let me know how it goes!

Let me know how what goes? Annabeth wondered. It was still morning, still grey outside, and still the day before Thanksgiving. But she didn't wonder for long. She had time to nap, or wallow, or maybe even both if she scheduled accordingly.

Annabeth didn't make it a practice to pity herself, but sometimes she allowed herself a few minutes or a few hours to feel the brunt of the world's unfairness. And after the break she'd have, and the rest that would surely follow, she deserved a little self pity.

But then again, she thought, returning to Percy's texts. She scrolled through their messages to the picture of him and his mother. Maybe it's not all bad.

:::

Someone knocked loudly on her door, jarring Annabeth from her movie and into a memory. Someone was knocking on her door and it was early- too early. Bleary eyes and slow minds invaded Annabeth's mind. Crumpled white carnations and crinkled pamphlets. Vague sympathy and an ache of gone, gone, gone.

Inhale. Exhale. It was Thanksgiving and someone was knocking at her door.

"Leo?" Annabeth asked, pulling the door open and thus ending the pounding.

"Hey," Leo said sheepishly. He looked better than the last time she saw him out of class. For one, he was dry. And he seemed more presentable. His eyes held their signature mischievous sparkle instead of a burnt-out spark, and while his hands still tapped, he seemed more aware of it than last time.

"What are you doing here?" Annabeth asked, even though she was beginning to suspect the reason. She had a feeling Hazel and Piper were behind it.

"Percy told me that you were on campus and Hazel said I should, uh—" Huh, well that was surprising. Although maybe it wasn't. Percy did mention Leo before. Although now Hazel's message made sense. Let me know how it goes!

Leo was mumbling in a not very Leo-like way. "Do you want to come in?" Annabeth asked, stepping back from the door and opening it a little wider. Leo's eyes darted to Silena's side of the room and he shook his head.

"No, that's okay. I was just wondering if you wanted to do Thanksgiving with me."

"Do Thanksgiving?" Annabeth asked. She had planned on eating her weight in chips and donut holes while watching the Charlie Brown special, but if Leo knew of a place that had even slightly better food, she was willing to try it.

"I mean," Leo winced. "The dining hall puts together a meal every year. Turkey, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie. The works."

Annabeth thought about it, but it didn't take long to come to a decision. Something was better than nothing. Someone was better than no one. "Sure, let's go."

:::

Annabeth pushed instant mashed potatoes and flavorless turkey around her plate. The dim lights of the dining hall flickered above them, casting them both in sickly yellow light. The few students that had remained on campus for the break sat around the building at tables, some of them paired off, but most alone. That was the silver lining—at least Annabeth wasn't alone.

"So, why are you spending Thanksgiving here?" Leo asked, taking a bite from his mac n cheese. Sauce dripped disgustingly onto his plate.

"My mom left for a work trip yesterday. She didn't want me to stay at her flat, so…" Annabeth gestured to the table. "Here I am."

Leo hummed sympathetically. "That sucks. What about your other family?"

Annabeth shrugged. "I don't really know my mom's family very well."

"And your dad?" Leo was apparently unaware that he had stumbled onto an emotional minefield.

Annabeth tried to not let her voice betray the uncertainty she felt about her father. It was still complicated—she wasn't sure where she stood or what move she wanted to make next. In his emails, he had been hinting at visiting her, or maybe her visiting him. She just wasn't sure if that was a step she was willing to take.

"We don't talk much. The only other family I have are his cousins in Boston and then the rest of the family in Finland." Annabeth had only ever heard of her other family in passing, in brief mentions of the "Swedish side" on the east coast and her father's other relatives across the ocean.

"Damn, that double sucks," Leo said, either not noticing Annabeth's discomfort, or trying to dispel it.

"Yeah, it does," Annabeth agreed. She chewed on some soggy green beans, trying not to wince. "What about you?"

"I don't really have anyone to visit. A few foster families, but nothing to write 'home' about, y'know." He cracked a self-deprecating grin.

Annabeth gave him a sympathetic chuckle. She didn't want to pry, but she couldn't help herself. "What happened to…?"

Leo set his fork down and looked down at his lap, his grin gone. "My mom died when I was little. I didn't have a dad. And the rest of my family didn't want me, so…" It was all pragmatic, a listing of facts. Annabeth could relate to the way he recited his traumas. Sometimes it hurt less that way.

When he looked back up, the dead look had returned to his eyes. It was the same look from when he talked about Calypso, or from that day he had come over after Silena died.

She reached across the table to tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry."

Leo sniffed and picked up his fork again. "It was a long time ago," he said. It was obvious he wanted to move on, so Annabeth let him. As much as she wanted to keep pressing, she let it go. She knew that in his position, she would wish the same.

"This food is ass," Annabeth said, hoping he would crack a smile again.

He did, picking his fork back up and stirring his watery gravy into his mashed potatoes. "It always is." He laughed. "The pumpkin pie is always really good though. It almost makes up for…"

"Mush."

The grin from earlier returned to his face, if slightly more strained than before. "Exactly."

Annabeth moved the conversation into safer territory, bringing up their writing class and then some of her architecture classes. She learned that Leo was an engineering major, that he both knew who Frank Lloyd Wright was and liked his work, and that under the effort of trying to be funny, Leo was actually funny.

Piper and Hazel and Percy had been right. Leo was good company. Perhaps she had been a bit quick to judge him, but that had always been a problem with her. She hadn't even liked Percy when she first met him, and now she...well.

They stayed until the dining hall closed, going back for second servings of pumpkin and sweet potato pie. They left, still chatting into the late November night, boots crunching over fallen brown leaves. When they parted, it was with a smile on her face. Despite its faults, it was the first good Thanksgiving Annabeth had had in a long time.