Percy hadn't thought that Akhlys would be a prime feature of his nightmares. Sure, the encounter had been harrowing, and he'd touched a part of himself that he never, ever wanted to see again – but Akhlys hadn't inspired the same pants-pissing terror in him that, say, Nyx and her children or Tartarus himself had.

Then it became clear that over half of Annabeth's nightmares were of Akhlys. Specifically, Percy and Akhlys.

Percy knew better than to apologize to her for it, but he wanted to as she clutched at him, taking great, big gulps of air between broken sobs. Today was a vocal day, and she mumbled desperately against his chest, half-awake, "Don't, Percy, please, don't, don't-"

Yeah. Percy hadn't felt that bad about Akhlys before, but that had changed pretty quick.

"Up and at 'em, Wise Girl," he said softly, rapping at her back with his fingertips. "We're okay. We're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Annabeth shuddered and sobbed a couple more times, but eventually her eyes cleared and she squinted up at him blearily, and then hugged him. "You can't do that to me," she mumbled. "You can't."

It would have been less painful if she'd dug her fingers into his heart and pulled it open. He set his forehead on her temple so she couldn't see his face. "Never, I would never," he said, not for the first time, like that would make her believe him.

"You can't," she said again, tearfully.

Percy hated himself viciously, and his shoulder devil soothed him with a low murmur of cruel ideas, punishments for the fear and trauma he'd inflicted on his best friend. He let it, listening with half an ear, and held onto her tightly.

It took Annabeth a few minutes to stop shaking, though her eyes were still wet and wild when she pulled away. Then they met his, and her expression dimmed even further.

"You've got shoulder devil eyes again," she said. Percy closed his eyes and didn't deny it, just hiking her closer.

"Sorry for-" For being the scariest thing in Tartarus. "Sorry."

Annabeth sighed, and when Percy looked at her there was an awful sheen of hopelessness in her eyes too, though she tried to wipe it away when she saw him looking.

They weren't sleeping in his room, though they'd entertained the idea; Sally had asked that they leave the door open if they did that, and the idea made Percy uncomfortable. So they cuddled on the couch instead, Percy stretched out along the length and Annabeth draped on top of him, and when Annabeth was over they slept like that. The lights in the living room stayed on.

"Want to watch stupid shows about how the pyramids got built?" Percy asked. She slumped down against him and gave him a grateful, if shaken smile.

"You just like hearing me complain," Annabeth mumbled.

"Yeah, it's hot," Percy agreed, because it made Annabeth laugh. She reached over and grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and a few minutes later they were on the history channel.

"Aliens!" the wild-eyed man insisted.

The shoulder devil kept talking, but Percy liked listening to his girlfriend grumble better.

Slowly, the air between them eased from stifling and painful to a lighter, easier tone, Annabeth slowly relaxing on top of Percy. He relaxed too, snickering along to the outlandish claims of the TV shows and even more to Annabeth's retorts. After a while, he rapped his knuckles against her ribcage.

"Stop putting your knee between my legs," he told her. "Or you're going to wake something else up."

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but obediently shifted to straddle him instead. "Not my fault your head is in the gutter."

"Yeah, it is," Percy said, and grinned at Annabeth's exasperated look. He craned his neck to look at the window. "Looks like the sun's waking up. Wanna grab breakfast? Pancakes?"

"Pancakes and eggs," Annabeth said. "You make the pancakes, I'll make the eggs, because I am not eating blue eggs."

Percy made an agreeable sound, because more food always sounded better to him, but didn't move to get up until Annabeth did. Once she did, he stretched with a satisfied groan. Maybe he and Annabeth couldn't avoid nightmares even when they were glued together, but it sure made the hours awake a lot more relaxing.

"Don't know what I'm gonna do without you, Wise Girl," he said without thinking. She glanced at him sharply, and he elaborated, "St. Joan's."

Sure enough, her sharp look softened instantly.

"Yeah," she sighed. "But we'd have to figure out how to deal eventually." She elbowed him gently. "May as well do it when you're gonna be in a building full of therapists."

He snorted, and grabbed her hand without thinking on the way into the kitchen.

He'd been surprised when he found out that Annabeth didn't know how to cook, scrambled eggs notwithstanding. He wasn't sure whether it was because she was a girl, or because she seemed to know everything, or because she was aggressively independent – but he'd just kind of expected her to. Of course, once she mentioned it, it seemed obvious; growing up at a summer camp where the harpies took care of everything hadn't left her much room to learn.

Which meant that Percy, who'd grown up helping his mom however he could, was the one who knew that stuff. Maybe a lot of boys would've been embarrassed, but it filled Percy with an odd sort of pride. He mentally flagged it as a thing he was proud of.

"I should probably mention we'll be separated earlier than we thought," Annabeth said after a while, once the eggs were sizzling in a pan.

Percy stiffened with alarm and had to force himself to relax again. "How come?"

Annabeth leaned against the counter, not looking up. "I gave in," she admitted. "I let Dad pick a therapist, so I'll be flying out to start that next week." She prodded the eggs, encouraging them to cook through. "I decided I'd done enough beating around the bush. Get it over with, you know?"

"You're sure you don't wanna do the Tartarus stuff first?" Percy asked her, worried.

"I don't know," Annabeth sighed. "I don't think it matters. Handling one will make the other easier, won't it? And doing this..." She trailed off for a moment, then took the eggs off the heat before she finished. "I feel like this will let Dad know I want to make up too."

There was a faint ache of longing in her voice. She'd taken her mother's rejection hard, and Percy thought she was trying to fill that hole with this.

"You don't think he knows?" Percy asked softly, though the effect was somewhat ruined when he poured a new set of pancakes.

"I certainly haven't been acting like it," Annabeth said, bitter and frustrated.

Percy nudged her gently. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it," he said. "Whatever works for you, you know?"

Annabeth softened and smiled at him. "Yeah," she said. "Same to you."

The fourth lotion that Percy opened made him smile.

"Perfect," he said, holding it out for Sally to sniff. The scent of the ocean made her smile too, and she closed the cap and put it in the basket, where it joined a few bags of candy and another iTunes card. "Um, what did you say the ceiling was again?"

"I didn't," Sally said, without even glancing at Paul. Her eyes were soft, still relieved even though Percy had been home for weeks. "We're much better off than we used to be, Percy, and this is for your health. Don't worry about the cost today."

Percy's cheeks heated self-consciously. "Oh, uh, okay."

Sally smiled at him, and then suggested, "Why don't you pick out a few bottles of hand soap? We're almost out in the bathroom."

They headed in that direction, and Percy let his mind drift.

He didn't know what it was, but something about this quest had made coming home seem so much more surreal. The fluorescent lights over his head felt eerie; the linoleum under his feet, threatening. His parents seemed out of place, making him anxious with the desire to usher them somewhere safe.

He tried to shake the feeling off. Hypervigilance, Raine had said. Percy knew the quest was over, but his body hadn't caught up yet.

The soap wasn't far from the lotions, and Percy went to skim the scents before his eye caught on one that claimed to smell like rain. He decided he liked that idea, and reached out to test them until he found one that smelled close enough. At the same time, he angled himself so he faced the open floor, watching for anyone approaching.

"Want me to go look?" Paul offered gamely, leaning against the cart with a wry smile.

Percy cursed under his breath and put the soap back. "No," he said, chest tightening dangerously. Despite all logic, he couldn't push away the awful image of- of a manticore striking as soon as Paul stepped out, or an empousa, or- "Damn it."

He walked to the other end of the aisle and looked both ways. A couple of people with shopping carts, all preoccupied with lists or watching their kids. The aisle to the left had one woman with a bored teenager leaning against the shared shelf. The aisle to the right had a toddler disappearing into the next row over. Worry bit at him, but that row just had a man with another, older kid and the safe-and-sound toddler. No monsters. The whole useless exercise had him fuming with frustration and embarrassment.

He returned to the cart.

"All clear?" Paul asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"It's not funny," Percy snapped, and winced when Paul jumped. He crossed his arms and turned away, trying to get a hold of himself. "Sorry, I- yeah. No monsters. Obviously."

"Doesn't hurt to make sure," Paul said, more gently this time.

"Stop," Percy said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and bounced unhappily. "I know, okay? I know it doesn't make sense. 'M not thinking clearly. I, I just..."

"I know," Paul said quietly. "I'm sorry for teasing you. I was hoping to lighten your mood a little."

Percy bounced again, scowling at the ground. "Sorry."

Paul just ruffled his hair.

Sally took Percy's hand and squeezed it. "So we have candy, lotion, soap... oh, would you want anything for your sulking corner?"

Percy managed a smile. "Wouldn't that be rewarding myself for bad behavior?"

Percy knew his parents were worried about him. He'd never been so messed up he couldn't hide it before. He was so tense these days that he was starting to regain a little of his childhood testiness – snapping at little things, falling into fits of temper. A pile of throw pillows had become his own little sulking corner in the back of the living room.

"I don't think so," Paul said. "Everyone is grumpy when they're feeling under the weather. Best to let you cheer yourself up."

"Sorry," Percy said, looking away to the shelves. "I'll try and catch it earlier."

"Percy." Sally caught his elbow and turned him toward her to meet her eyes. "You were gone for a year, and you suffered and accomplished things we can't even imagine while you were away. We don't expect you to be on your best behavior right now. Home is where you're allowed to not be okay."

Gods, Percy loved his mom. He hugged her.

"You always wanted a lava lamp," Sally added when they let go. "Would you like one of those in your corner? Or maybe in your room?"

Percy smiled, feeling warm. "In my room," he decided, not mentioning that he thought it would be nice when he was too anxious to sleep. "For the corner..." He thought about the anger management strategies he'd learned. "Bubbles, maybe a coloring book and some pencils?"

"You won't want something to vent on?" Paul asked.

"I can bite the pencils," Percy explained.

Paul chuckled, and they moved toward the office supplies.

"You haven't told us much about what happened," Sally said after a while, subtly inviting Percy to talk about it or brush her off. Percy faltered, keeping his eyes on the shelves as they passed.

"Yeah, I guess not," he said quietly. He watched a few shelves pass. "It was harder than usual. I don't think I was much help this time."

"What did you do?" Paul asked. Percy glanced at him uncertainly, and Paul squeezed his shoulder, looking calm and reassuring. Percy shrugged.

"Nothing no one else could've done," he muttered.

"I don't think that's true," Paul said. The certainty in his voice made Percy flush, and he searched his memory, not wanting to disappoint Paul.

"I... kept the ship from capsizing that time, I guess," he said reluctantly. "And..." He grimaced. "I don't think anyone but me and Annabeth could've made it through Tartarus to close the Doors on that side."

He didn't realize how little he'd told them about his quest until Sally inhaled sharply.

"Tartarus?" she asked, voice wavering slightly.

Percy didn't answer right away. They'd reached the office supplies, and he took the opportunity to step in and grab a coloring book at random to flip through.

"What?" Paul asked, sounding lost. "Not- not the Underworld prison."

"Not really a prison," Percy muttered. He closed the coloring book in his hands, put it back, and pulled out another one to look through. "More like a really, really awful canyon."

"Percy..." Sally whispered. He didn't look up.

"Wouldn't recommend it for a destination wedding," he said, voice coming out rough. Put it back, found an ocean-theme one, pulled it out. "Terrible refreshments, and the locals hate you. Sulfur air, one exit only. Not my cup of tea."

"It must have hurt to breathe," murmured Paul the high school teacher. Percy swallowed. His throat felt dry. He patted his pockets hastily, then popped a jolly rancher into his mouth. "And your skin. How did you...?"

"Paul," Sally interrupted softly, and Paul stopped, looking pale. Percy took a deep breath.

"River of fire," he muttered. "Heals like nectar, but it tastes like shit. Thank the gods for Annabeth. I never would've known that."

Sally squeezed his hand again. "I'm glad you were together."

Percy relaxed a little, exhaled, and nodded. He looked down at the coloring book in his hands, then added it to the basket.

"Anyway, the Doors of Death were in the deepest part," he said. "Me and Annabeth together could make it through, with a lot of luck, but I don't think anyone else could've. And we needed to close that door from both sides."

"Percy," Paul said seriously, "if that had been the only thing you'd done, you still would have been irreplaceable on that quest. Never mind what you mean to us."

A weight lifted off Percy's shoulders. Something occurred to him, and he perked up.

"Can I get a bean bag for the corner?"

Sally laughed, oddly wet, and kissed his hair. "Of course you can."

"I can't fail school for the third year running," Percy said to Raine, plaintive frustration twisting his voice into knots. "I just can't. I'm, I'm not this dumb. I have to be able to do this."

"Can you tell me what happened?" Raine asked gently.

Percy slumped against his knees, feeling defeated. "I had a flashback during class," he muttered. "I have biology this year, and we were going over the organ systems. And I..." He swallowed, closing a fist over his chest. "Sorry. I, I don't think I can tell you any more than that without freaking out."

"That's alright," Raine soothed. "I'm proud of you for recognizing that and stopping yourself. Do you think it's likely to happen again?"

Percy felt the blood drain from his face. Oh gods. They'd have to go over diagrams of the heart, the lungs, the immune system- everything he'd seen when he was...

"Blue food, blue food," he said desperately, hiding his face in his arms to try and breathe. He was surprised how well it worked, crowding out the oppressive images with the memory of campfire smoke and sand and his mom's soothing voice. Montauk.

He'd caught it in time; in a few moments, his breath evened out, and he was able to look back up at Raine.

"I don't think I can take biology this year," he said weakly.

Raine nodded solemnly, and then said, "You're already planning on getting a GED, because we've established that high school is difficult for you. Why are you so against dropping out to focus on your needs?"

"And be a high school fucking dropout?" Percy asked desperately. "I can't do that! I- Mom and Paul and Annabeth are all so smart, I can't... I'm not stupid!"

"Your mother dropped out of high school," Raine reminded him. "You don't think any less of her for it. Do you think she'll think any less of you?"

Percy's breath hitched. "That's different," he said, hating himself even as he did. "That was out of her control. She had to take care of her uncle. It wasn't her fault."

"And you were kidnapped by a goddess and put through trials beyond mortal comprehension," Raine said. "That's not your fault either. It's perfectly natural to need a break after what happened, and it certainly does not make you any less intelligent than your peers."

"I was really trying," Percy protested, feeling miserable. "I wanted to make Mom proud. Mom... Mom thinks I can do it."

"Your mother is very proud of you, Percy," Raine said gently. "That won't change if you give up this fight before you hurt yourself, and I'm sure that she'll support your decision either way."

Percy moaned unhappily, and shifted to cradle his cheek in his elbow. "I'll talk to her about it," he mumbled. "I mean... I know she'll say the same thing you said. But I want to talk to her about it before I decide."

"That's perfectly reasonable," Raine reassured him. "Would you like to work on goal-setting today? It might make you feel better to have things to work towards outside of school."

"Right, sorry," Percy mumbled, rubbing his knuckles on his cheek. "Forgot you had a plan and stuff."

"Issues that you bring up to me supersede any plan I may make in advance," Raine said firmly. "That said, yes, goal-setting was the intention for today. Do you feel up to it?"

"Sure," Percy muttered.

"Do you have reservations?" she asked gently. Percy shrugged.

"No," he sighed. "I'm just- fed up. I'll try anything. But I kinda feel like setting goals is just making more things for me to fail at." He thought that over, then smacked himself on the forehead. "Ugh! Sorry. That was really..." He trailed off.

"It's indicative of your poor mental health, yes," Raine agreed, still oddly gentle. "It's not where we want you to be, but we knew that already, and you're not a bad person for expressing your doubts. What we'll be doing today is attempting to identify goals that are realistic and achievable in your current state of mind. Is that alright?"

"I guess," Percy said, and then clarified, "I feel better about it, anyway."

Raine smiled at him, then looked down. "Would you like to write these down?" she asked. "Or would you prefer that I write them down and email them to Sally?"

Percy thought about it. "Um, email them to Mom? I don't think I'll be able to focus if I'm trying to write."

Raine nodded and shifted something around on her desk. "We're going to brainstorm first," she said. "Later, we'll organize these goals into things you can achieve in a few days, in a few weeks, or in a year, but don't worry too much about that yet. For this first part, we're going to talk about things you think you could change to make your life easier."

"Uh, all the things I can think of are like, really overwhelming," Percy pointed out warily. Raine smiled ruefully.

"I assumed," she agreed. "That's why we're breaking them into categories; it should help you come up with some simpler ideas." She tapped something on her desk. "The first category is material goals. Is there something you've been wanting? A new skateboard, a wall poster?"

Percy laughed, surprised by the instant simplicity. "Oh, I kinda get what you mean now," he said. "But, uh, isn't this like... petty?"

"Not at all," Raine said. "You could think of it as being the same kind of comfort you keep in your self-soothing box, in goal form. Think about it: you decide that sometime in the next year, you want a new skateboard. You save up enough to buy one, and you've accomplished a goal you set for yourself, and you also have something you want." She smiled at him. "It's a very simple sort of happiness, but those are good for you."

"Alright," Percy said thoughtfully, relaxing into the bed. He shifted to stretch out on his stomach and kicked his legs behind him. "How many do you want?"

"Let's go with three to five for each category," Raine suggested. "You don't need to keep them all, and it will give you plenty to work with for the next part."

Percy nodded, setting his cheek in his hand. "Then I guess... I want some nightlights for my room, and some for Annabeth too. I kinda want to get one of my ears pierced." He pinched his left earlobe and smiled a little. "Maybe both, I'll ask Annabeth what she thinks. And some new shoes. The tread is all flat on mine."

Raine started to nod, then frowned slightly. "How dangerous is that for you?" she asked, concerned. At Percy's look, she clarified, "If it's a matter of safety, I'd suggest categorizing this as a need rather than a want."

Percy made a sound of comprehension and thought about it. "Yeah, alright, I've slipped a couple times," he decided. "I'll talk to Mom about it soon. A new hoodie, then. I want a purple one."

Raine smiled at him, looking fond. "Perfect," she said. "Next is family and friends – if you want to meet new people, spend more time with someone, improve a certain relationship and so on."

Percy hummed. "I'd like to be better friends with Jason," he said after a while. "We work really well together, but we haven't had time to actually be friends yet. And Leo and Piper too. I'd really like that, if I can get them used to me." He shrugged self-consciously, hesitated, and then continued, "Um... I'd kinda like to talk to Paul about his parents, ask if they're interested in meeting me and Mom at all. I've never had grandparents before." He ducked his head. "I don't know how I'd start that conversation though."

"Then it sounds like an excellent medium or long-term goal," Raine said kindly. "Anything else?"

Percy hesitated again, and then said quietly, "I want to talk to Dad about... about that place. I haven't really talked to him since we talked at St. Joan's. I don't know what I want to say or anything, I just... want him to be there for me." He shrugged. "I dunno if that counts. It's probably a different issue."

"There's no harm in setting it as a goal," Raine said. "You can't control when you'll see him next, but you can choose or not choose to talk to him about what troubles you."

Percy winced. That much was true. "Yeah, I guess," he said, trying to smile.

"What about educational goals?" she asked.

"Get my GED," Percy said instantly. He tapped his feet together, thinking. "...Drop out?" He made a face and shook his head. "Talk to my parents about dropping out. And find out the application requirements of that university in New Rome."

"Perfect," Raine praised. "Goals related to your health?"

Percy wrinkled his nose. "Are we counting mental health in this?"

Raine shook her head. "That's a different category."

"Okay..." Percy dropped his chin to his arms, thinking. After a minute, he scowled. "Everything I can think of is stuff that's happening 'cause of my shitty mental health."

"That's fine."

He relaxed a little. "I want to sleep more and throw up less," he deadpanned, and then shrugged helplessly. "I really can't think of anything else. Sorry."

"That's fine," Raine repeated, writing them down. "We can look into ways to handle those symptoms independently of their root cause. I'm glad to know that's a priority for you. Are you losing weight?" Percy nodded, and Raine winced. "Then we'll get right on that. Are you ready to move on?"

"Sure."

"Leisure goals? Do you want to spend more time outside, learn something new...?"

"Huh." Percy shifted, thinking about it. It was surprisingly hard to nudge his mind into thinking about things he did for fun. "I'd like to learn some new skateboarding tricks, I guess. Try a new video game." He pushed himself up onto his elbows. Digging through old memories had reminded him- "Maybe take an art class or something. Drawing or painting."

Raine smiled at him and copied those down. "Perfect. Lucas will be pleased. Spiritual goals?" Percy wrinkled his nose. "For our purposes, let's say anything reflective. Meditation, dream journaling, exploring new religions."

Percy frowned. "Is keeping a dream journal supposed to help nightmares?"

"It can."

"I'll try that, then," Percy decided. "Still a big no on meditation." Raine chuckled. "I'm gonna put praying to my dad here just for fun." He grinned a little when Raine laughed. "Um, maybe practice drawing my feelings?"

"That works," Raine said. "What about creative goals?" Percy made a face. "Yes, there's some overlap, I'm afraid."

Percy sighed, but crossed his legs and thought about it. "Make a big painting on canvas?" he suggested. "Um, maybe design an aquarium. Make something for camp. And, um, something for Annabeth." His cheeks turned pink.

"You're doing great," Raine encouraged. "This is the last one. Emotional and psychological goals?"

Percy grimaced. "I want to go an entire day without getting triggered," he said, with more exhaustion than he'd meant to let show. "Go a week without a flashback. I want to be able to go back to sleep after a nightmare. Um, I want to be okay enough for Grover to repair our empathy link. And, uh, not be as anxious at night."

"Very well done," Raine praised. "Do you feel better after being able to set some goals?"

Percy considered. "Kind of. I like that most of them are things I'd do because I want to, not because I have to or because it's healthy or something. No offense."

"None taken," Raine said. "Are you ready to start setting timeframes?" Percy nodded, and Raine shifted gears. "Which ones do you want to try in the next seven days?"