Work Text:
Annabeth tried not to spend a lot of time in Sally’s apartment. There’d been a time, just a few short months ago, where she would’ve happily moved in. When the apartment meant home-cooked meals and couch snuggles and falling asleep in Percy’s arms. Like nothing could hurt her.
What a joke.
She was very quickly learning that nowhere was safe. Her boyfriend had been snatched in the middle of the night in the literal one place he was meant to be safe. He was meant to be safe.
They’d paid the bullshit tax, and saved the gods time and time again. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter if they were at camp or his home or the bottom of the fucking ocean- it wasn’t enough. Some immortal pest would get a hangnail or a prophecy and whoopsies, it was somehow their problem now. The gods treated them like they were pawns. Like by being born they’d signed a contract saying they’d swoop in for whatever reason at whatever time for nothing.
So yeah. She was a little bitter.
She hadn’t realised before just how many places and things she associated with Percy. The ocean, obviously. And the lake and the strawberry fields and the woods and the cabins and the big house and the beach-
So now being in camp was difficult even without the paranoia that something could just reach in and grab someone.
Sally and Paul’s apartment was so familiar and warm it made her ache. She was reminded, every second, that there was someone missing. That she should’ve been pressed against him on the couch, in bed, and any opportunity they got. Annabeth hadn’t stayed the night since he went missing. Her visits now followed a schedule of arriving, crying, and leaving.
Nothing new to report. Nothing useful to add. Nothing to tell parents grieving a son they weren’t even sure was dead.
Still, this time Sally convinced her to stay for dinner. Honestly, it was probably just because the apartment was too quiet. Also, she was used to cooking for a certain someone who demolished his plate in five seconds and went back for more. A lot of pasta was ending up in tupperware.
Fine, she’d stay for dinner. Then the sky itself decided to be a dick and pour on her the entire walk from the subway to the apartment. She held her bag over her head. Just as she thought she might have gotten off easy, a car drove by, splashing her head to toe in grey gunk and who knew what. She spat out a mouthful of something seriously nasty and bravely resisted the urge to scream.
The second she arrived, Sally ordered her to the shower. It would delay dinner, and keep her in the godsawful memory limbo for a little longer, but she desperately needed it.
Afterwards, she realised she’d forgotten to plan ahead. Unusual for her.
All her clothes were soaked. She’d had the sense to put her underwear on the radiator at least, but still. Her trousers and shirt needed a serious scrub and a week in the sun before they were wearable. After so much adventuring with days in between clothing changes and showers, she’d grown a little picky.
‘Annabeth? Are you okay in there?’ Sally called unnecessarily.
‘Totally chill!’
Lightbulb moment. She’d left her hoodie dress in Percy’s room, she was sure. All she needed to do was don a towel over her underwear and run for there, where she could finally get into something comfy and warm. Even after the hot shower, she was chilled. Granted, she’d felt that for a few months, but still.
Her plan went off without a hitch. She saw the hoodie dress on top of the dresser, and tugged it on without a second thought. Huh. She must’ve had another growth spurt.
Percy had a full length mirror on his wardrobe, and she happened to glance at it.
It wasn’t her dress.
It was the same heathered grey, same fleecy texture, and even had a hood.
But it wasn’t her dress.
It was a hoodie, a men’s hoodie, with a trident design on the front that Grover had picked up for Percy after seeing it in a thrift shop. It had made her feel so cosy and safe when they’d accidentally worn matching hoodies at one of their sleepovers.
It was Percy’s hoodie.
She made a sound like a wounded animal and took it off as quickly as she could. She flung it into the farthest corner of the room. How could it still be there. How could it still be there and smell like him when he’d been gone for months. Months that, even if by some miracle they found him, they would never get back. Some part of him would always be gone forever.
‘Beth, are you okay?’ Paul asked.
‘Nmmnm.’ She said.
‘Can we come in?’
‘Uh, I can’t find my dress.’
‘Gotcha. Sending in the wife.’
True to his word, Paul scarpered, and Sally stepped in. Honestly, she should’ve been embarrassed that a lady she looked up to so much saw her in a state of undressed distress but she wasn’t.
‘Hey, baby.’ Sally said.
Annabeth went from upset to incoherent. She wailed something about shirts and smells and how much she missed her boyfriend and somehow Sally seemed to understand. She wrapped the young girl in the discarded towel and held her like a child.
‘I know, baby, I know. I keep expecting him to just walk right on out of his room or into the flat and he never does.’
‘What- What if he never does again?’
‘We can’t think like that. Hera’s plan was just to move him. We have to keep thinking that he’ll deal with whatever shit he has to deal with.’
‘And then he’ll come home?’ She asked pathetically.
‘And then he’ll come home.’
-
After a lot of crying from both of them, they had dinner.
Everyone picked at their food, and the storm didn’t let up. Sally tossed her a coin and told her to tell Camp she’d be staying overnight. She couldn’t blame her. She was exhausted, and Sally was probably thinking about that pesky time she got squished by a minotaur while heading to Camp on a dark, stormy night.
So she was staying put. No-one suggested she take Percy’s bed. They found a bunch of blankets and pillows and she made herself comfy on the couch. Sally kissed her goodnight and smiled wanly.
‘There’s always tomorrow.’
‘Right.’ Annabeth replied, not really believing it.
-
That night, the phone rang. They didn’t realise.
The next morning, she was woken by Sally picking up the phone.
She went white as a sheet and almost dropped it.
‘It’s him.’ She said quietly.
‘IT’S HIM!’ She shouted in Paul’s direction.
The three of them crowded, bleary-eyed and wrung out, around the phone.
He was in Alaska. He was alive in Alaska. She wanted to drop everything, find a plane, and go there. She’d walk to the ends of the world for him if she had to. He was out there, somewhere.
She just needed to get to him.