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Annabeth wakes to the low hum of the TV commercial and a hand on her shoulder.
She blinks and blinks, trying to push the darkness away, but oh no it is dark and is that—drool. Drool on my shoulder. Seaweed Brain, then—
‘Annabeth, honey?’ a voice cuts through the haze, soft but firm, and jolts her awake. Sally’s close enough for Annabeth to make out the individual smile creases by her eyes, which are as kind as always but ever so slightly reproachful.
Only then does Annabeth remember.
She pushes off from where she’s lying on Percy’s chest with so much force that she shoots to the other end of the couch, cheeks flaming, and Sally smiles a little, teeth a flash of white in the dark. ‘Uh, sor—sorry,’ Annabeth blurts. ‘I…lost track of time.’
Sally moves toward Percy, who, thank the gods, is still asleep, but then his mom is touching his shoulder and whispering and it’s like Annabeth is back there again, when her boyfriend was constantly on edge but still had a smile for her, as if he hadn’t willingly plunged into hell for her—
‘Please let him sleep,’ she says quickly. Sally raises an eyebrow. ‘Honey, I’m just moving him to his room…’
Annabeth glances at her boyfriend, sallow brown skin and long limbs and dark eyelashes illuminated by the glow of the TV, face peaceful like it never, ever is when he’s awake, and takes a deep breath. Sorry, Percy, but… ‘He hasn’t been able to sleep there recently. He said he keeps moving to the living room and well—’ she jerks her chin at the commercial— ‘plays whatever’s on. That’s the only way he actually drifts off, even if—.’ She breaks off, swallowing. She was about to say even if Paul finds him often, and then Percy really will kill her. ‘—even if it’s hard.’ She finishes instead.
‘I see,’ was all that Sally says. She sinks into one of the armchairs by the couch, closing her eyes for a brief moment, and Annabeth’s heart clenches. She knows what’s coming next—
‘Not that our doors aren’t always open to you, but…it’s 3 AM, Annabeth.’ Sally shakes her head a little. ‘You know you can just stay the night, right? Take Percy’s bed while he sleeps here?’
Annabeth’s curl is yanked a little too hard, and she looks down to see she was twirling it with aggressive force. She wrings her hands together, instead, looking anywhere but at Sally. The mantelpiece was unnaturally crowded, it would look a lot better with only 3 books there instead of 5—
‘Annabeth?’ Sally prompts, and as if on cue, Percy stirs.
Annabeth can’t help but freeze, only one thought running through her head from years of watching Percy and his mother interact: Sally cannot see him like this.
‘Can we…’ she gestures to the kitchen.
Sally looks away from Percy, meeting grey eyes with her own unreadable but soft brown ones, and nods. ‘Sure.’
The refrigerator glows softly, and Annabeth allows herself a quiet sigh of relief when Sally doesn’t move to turn on the light, but simply starts bustling around, presumably to have something to do with her hands.
Annabeth leans against the island and steels herself. For Percy. He cannot get grounded. He mustn’t. ‘I…had a nightmare.’ She admits. It’s harder than expected to force the words out. ‘I’ve been having them for a while now, but tonight it was, uh, worse than usual.’ Various pots and pans hang suspended from hooks on the wall opposite. Is that how most heroes hung their spoils of war? Percy has plenty of spoils, the most of anyone she’s ever known save for perhaps Nico. They have that in common too, then. Though Nico probably hadn’t nearly killed a goddess in Tartarus. Probably. Oh, gods. The room grows cold.
‘Anyway,’ she continues, unable to hold back a shiver, ‘I just…I needed to know that Percy was okay.’ Her voice comes out shaky, so she stares at Sally’s little earrings till the blur clears and the pressure behind her eyes eases a little.
Sally stays quiet for a minute. Then, just as the silence is almost too much to bear and Annabeth is considering bolting, she turns off the tap and holds out a mug. ‘Hot chocolate,’ she explains, at Annabeth’s bewildered look. ‘Drink up, dear.’
That was something Annabeth had never been called before, and it takes some difficulty to stop herself from breaking down right there in her boyfriend’s mother’s kitchen. She probably would have if it weren’t for Percy, snoring slightly in the next room.
Her hand shakes as she takes the mug, and the first sip is scalding. Annabeth welcomes it.
Sally stares at her steadily, then takes a deep breath. Judging it safe for her control of tears now, Annabeth meets her eyes to see them glimmering.
She sets the mug down. ‘Oh gods, I’m—’
‘Don’t be silly, honey,’ Sally says, voice strong. Then she steps forward and hugs Annabeth, arms wrapping around her in a motherly way Annabeth’s hardly felt before. This isn’t the first time she’s been hugged by Sally—if they have something in common, it’s that their love language is touch—but it certainly feels like the most significant one. She sniffles into Sally’s dark curls, and when she withdraws, Sally is smiling.
‘Finish that, and go to Percy’s bed,’ she says. ‘I made him make it this morning, so even if his room is a mess, his bed should be alright. You stay here tonight, you hear me?’ Annabeth picks up the mug again and nods. ‘And we’ll discuss a better way to deal with this situation in the morning, when Percy’s up and we’re all thinking a bit more clearly.’
Annabeth nods again, love for Sally swelling in her chest. Gods, Seaweed Brain, she thinks for the thousandth time since she began dating Percy, we sure got lucky.