A/N: So I'm back for good now people! *Moriarty voice* did you miss me? Yeah, probably not. So yeah, thanks for reading guys :) Gonna write now.

Later that night, lying spread- eagled on the bed with nothing to occupy her save a whipping maelstrom of thought, Annabeth heard the tell-tale signs of her family getting ready for bed after a long day. Murmurs of the daily quarrel to get her brothers to bed reached through the thin walls, voices followed by the crash of small feet leaping up the stairs. The footsteps carried on down the hall for a while longer, until they were drowned out by the slamming of a door.

For about ten minutes, the house seemed alight with a steady buzz of noise. Not loud, infrequent noises, like a pan falling on a kitchen floor, or the stream of swear words her dad might issue when he read his emails, but the sound of two tired young children getting ready to sleep, and their parents herding them to bed. Distantly, Annabeth was are of how annoying her brothers were. Still, as stared at her ceiling, she waited for the embrace of sleep to come for her. She was curious to try something. Whenever she fell asleep, it was in a quiet environment. An environment that generally could convince her of how alone she was. She wondered whether if she were to fall asleep in another atmosphere, such as a noisy one, where she was constantly aware of other people there for her, might help her situation somewhat.

Somewhere in that stream of thought, she had begun to drift off. The house was silent now, but the voices of her family still hung in the air, ghosts that reached out and comforted her, easing her gently into the terrifying unconscious. Darkness edged her vision. Her mind softened, her thoughts less sharp and more undefined. Slowly her muscles loosed, her consciousness sapped away. Until a peal of laughter cut through her haziness like a knife.

In the next hour, it happened several times. She would lie still, waiting to be fully taken into the arms of her slumber, when something would stir her from that darkness. Sometimes it was more laughter. Other times, it was chatter, footsteps, the slamming of a door. After being jarred awake one time too many by giggling from down the hall, she had had enough. She leaped from her bed, and was out the the door, down the hall and flinging open the door to her brothers' room in a matter of moments.

"I swear to the gods, are you people serious?"

Caught in the middle of a late night game of Fruit Ninja, Bobby and Matthew glanced up in surprise and- as Annabeth noted with a little cruel satisfaction- fear. They had seen their sister get angry, and they knew that she wasn't in her friendliest of moods right now.

"What?" asked Matthew, pulling up a transparent mask of innocence.

"Some people want to fuc-" she caught herself and instead ground out "want to sleep. You're not helping."

Bobby snorted and glanced sidelong at his brother, as if indulging in a shared joke or something of the like. "Because you're so helpful when the rest of us try to sleep." It was a whisper, hardly louder than a breath, but Annabeth heard it. She fell heavily onto the wall and gazed at her brother. He had never really exhibited much contempt towards his sister regarding her nightmares, but now, as she looked at the anger in his eyes, she realised that her constant screams and sobs had irritated him in ways that he hadn't let on. His level gaze began to waver under her piercing glare, until he broke her stare and instead fixed his eyes on the floor. "Sorry," he muttered, cheeks reddening. "That wasn't necessary." Still, something in Annabeth's heart had broken at the sudden realisation that her crumbling dreams might be taking as much toll on her family members as they had on her. Then she hardened in anger and crouched down so she was at the same height as her siblings.

"Well I'm so sorry," she hissed at her brother "that my walk through hell isn't helping you sleep." As she stood up and spun on her heel and closed the door with a resounding crash, she heard her name uttered, almost pleadingly through the door. She ignored it. But even minutes later, as she was comfortably lying in bed again, her vision still clouded red and her mind hurting from anger, she was aware that no more noise came from down the hall.

The next morning, Annabeth was greeted with some rather disagreeable news. It turned out that her step-mother's family would be flying in from Virginia that very afternoon, and would consequently be staying in the house for a week. That had not sat well with her. She'd never met her dad's sister-in-law and her family, and was not entirely comfortable with the idea of sharing lodging for the next seven days. Who knew what they would be like? If they were much like her dad's wife, Annabeth wasn't sure she would be able to cope over the next week. And there were other obstructions too. She had nightmares. She had to study. Why had her family thought this would be a good idea? Still, her dad, apparently, was growing bored of her resistance to the plan.

"But what about my nightmares?" She'd implored of him when he'd broached the subject. He had just sighed and glanced down at his breakfast, reluctant to meet her eyes.

"You won't be alone in your room. You'll be fine."

"I'll be sharing my room? But that's just worse!" So he was getting frustrated with her constant berating, Annabeth understood that, but he also kept turning a blind eye to the immediate problems that she tried to make him see.

"What about homework? Or studying?"

"Annabeth, you never study."

"Yeah but what if I need to?"

"Just eat your breakfast."

They'd gone round and round like that, one point combated with no show of even the slightest acquiescence . It was a fruitless argument, so even Annabeth had to concede eventually, when the pointlessness of continuing was evident. Instead, she had left the house in a huff, forgetting both her house keys and gym kit in her state.

As she and Percy- who had conveniently also forgotten his kit- both waited outside the sports office to receive a sentencing, she relieved the events of that morning to her boyfriend. Percy's face was growing more and more sympathetic by the minute.

"You know," he began, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "You could spend the week at my place."

Annabeth had just snorted, the resigned sound of someone who finds their bad luck almost amusing. "Not an option. Dad wants me to," she paused here, distorting her voice in the way one does when mocking another. She held two fingers up, signalling the beginning of a quotation. "Get to know my family." She closed off the phrase with another two fingers.

"You can't even spend the nights at mine?" He'd asked, hope colouring his voice. Annabeth glanced at his large green eyes, at the innocent, winning smile that played on his lips.

"You know how protective my dad is of his only little girl." Sarcasm dripped from her voice. "You think he wants her heading down to her boyfriend's every night for a week?" At this, Percy burst out laughing. He placed a hand on his chest, eyes wide in mock hurt.

"Nice to know your dad trusts me so much." Annabeth narrowed her eyes, and Percy pushed away from the wall, planting a quick kiss on her lips. "You know me. I would never do anything to mess up my relationship with your dad." Annabeth gasped at this and hit him lightly on the arm.

"Percy!"

At that moment, a door swung open, and the gym teacher stalked towards them, whistle bouncing up and down on her chest, clipboard tucked under an arm, and a stern expression masking her face. She stopped before them, arms crossed.

"So," she started, glaring down at them. "Where are your kits?"

"Home," they both answered in unison.

"Alright." She marked something down on her clipboard. "Why are they at home?"

The exchange was met with a few more short, clipped questions, culminating in the teacher marking their names down and declaring them victims to an after school detention. Then she ushered them into the sports hall so that they could watch their classmates suffer on the basketball pitch.

"You know, I was thinking we should visit camp some time soon." Percy leaned against the wall and closed his eyes as he said this, revelling in the joy of not having to take part in the game.

"Huh?" Annabeth glanced at him. "Yeah," she mused. "We could."

"Great. Not this week though. Someone has family coming to stay."

"Eh. I don't know what my dad's plans are for that yet."

For a while, they sat in silence, hands just touching. Annabeth tried- and failed- to keep track of the game. So one team had the ball. No, now the other. But now it was in the net. So that was a point? Yes, but to what team? Wait, it wasn't a point? Why? Eventually, she gave up. Although she had always been fairly good at them, she had never been a fan of ball sports. To her, they had always seemed pointless, futile competition who's only purpose was to evoke and impose resentment among those who enjoyed the sport. And so much was going for the people who played them professionally, and yet here she was, having saved the world, and life not seeming particularly better than before the near end of the world. Look at her. She was in high school. Sometimes, in her bitterest of moments, she wondered if the world should have just ended instead. Then she would glance besides her, to Percy, earbuds in, and humming along to the music, to realise that no, the world should not have ended. Not if Percy was still happy and alive. She nudged him.

"Hey Percy." He glanced at her and removed his earbuds.

"Ya?"

"Did you really forget your kit?" At that, he grinned and tapped his nose, eyes twinkling.

"Now, now," he muttered, wagging his finger, voice dropping in volume as the gym teacher cast a suspicious glance in their direction. "A man can't give away all of his secrets, can he?"

Annabeth grinned. "You couldn't keep a secret if your life depended on it."

"Naw Wise Girl, that's just rude." Then he poked her in the arm. "But you're right. I lied- I did bring my kit." Annabeth raised her eyebrows. "You'd be lonely otherwise!" He exclaimed, giving her a quick squeeze. "Couldn't have that now, could we?"

"But you're gonna get detention now." Percy just shrugged.

"Twenty minutes of my life- isn't really going to change very much."

"True."

The detention might have been some of the longest twenty minutes she had ever had the misfortune to endure, if it hadn't been for Percy at the front of the room. Whenever the teacher turned her back, he would turn around and wiggle his eyebrows at her. This would, without fail, force her to stifle a bout of giggles, lest the teacher turn a stern eye upon her. One time, when she hissed at him to shut up, trying to keep an even voice through the laughter, he had leaned close, stretching across a table and a half for her to hear, and asked if it was because her dad wouldn't approve. Especially since he had promptly fallen from his chair as he moved back to his original position, Annabeth had completely lost it then, and they were both sent home earlier than planned from the detention.

Ten minutes later, they sat together in a fairly empty bus, flicking through photos on Annabeth's camera roll. They were pretty varied, but all depicting good times. There was a group pic of the Seven-well, most of them- eyes shining, the weight of the world taken off their shoulders. There was the time that Piper had stolen her phone, and a magnificent array of selfies featuring the whole Aphrodite cabin required quite a bit of scrolling through. Then there was one that she loved, when the Romans had been about to leave for Camp Jupiter, and both camps had taken a group photo on the beach. So some of her photos were slightly less mature than others, more silly or unnecessary. Still, Annabeth was reluctant to delete any of them, forever clutching onto them, the measure of happiness on her phone. Eventually, her stop came, and she was forced to disembark, kissing Percy a quick goodbye. As she passed by the bus, already on the pavement, Percy waved once, then was whisked away by the movement of the bus.

It was only once she had made it to her door and was about to reach into her pocket that she suddenly remembered the forgotten house keys she had left inside when she had stormed out of the house that morning. With a resigned sigh, she dropped her bag and heaved herself down, drawing her phone out once more. One message. Without much hope as to who it might be from, she opened it, already wondering if her dad would be sending reminders that they had guests coming. Maybe he was telling her to tidy her room or clean up the kitchen. Indeed, it was precisely that. Shame she was locked out. Cleaning the house proved not to be a viable option. Unwilling to reply, and with resentment concerning her dad currently churning in her gut, she did him the favour of leaving it on 'read,' and wondering wether he was adept enough at understanding the functions on a phone to understand that she was ignoring him. Instead, she texted Piper, one of her few demigod friends who had a phone. Of course, with such a famous movie star dad, she not only had any old phone, but she had the best one.

You at school? Annabeth didn't really expect a reply. Piper lived busy days when she wasn't at camp, leading a double life as the rich, Hollywood born-and-bred daughter of actor Tristan Mclean. Annabeth had never envied that life. She was famous enough in the Ancient Greek world as it was. She had a hard time imagining being famous in the mortal world too.

She did get a reply however.

Ya. Piper said. But bored af. Save me. That was something that Annabeth found vaguely amusing. Whilst she rarely used the abbreviations or the more casual lingo in her text messages, Piper, like so many, had no problem typing in that way. Annabeth did, however, 'save' her friend, and entertained her with ridiculous selfies and screenshots of posts that she had found online. That was, at least, until Piper hurriedly informed her that a teacher was coming her way, and she was forced to leave. That, incidentally, was about the same time as when her dad's car finally backed into the driveway, and he and her brothers jumped out to find a very bored looking Annabeth sitting on the porch.