which, for demigods, is nothing new - between their visions in the form of dreams, or nightmares of the monsters they've faced, or simply because their brain and body won't turn off, sleep was a difficult thing to grasp. usually, the best course of action to obtain it was sheer exhaustion, which - for better or worse - was usually pretty easy to find. and annabeth was exhausted, from the lack of sleep and the waiting. it had taken two days since tyson and mrs. o'leary had sent back word from new rome. two days until leo got the argo ii up and running well enough to take. days where there was nothing for annabeth to do but think and worry and strategize and-
well. not pray. not that her mother would hear her.
two days, and then it was time to take leo's baby across the united states of america. two days, until annabeth was faced with the very real and very humbling fact that was new rome. she had spent the entire trip pacing the deck, the burning behind her eyes a symptom of the days, weeks, months it's felt like since she's been able to rest - but also the knowledge of what was to come. her pacing only stopped when they were close enough to see it, close enough that jason had stiffened where he was on the bow, where leo had leaned over the railing to catch a glimpse. for a moment, it had almost taken annabeth's breath away - seeing the planned city, the neighborhoods, the buildings. a city was presented before her, and all it did was make her chest ache - there were no wooden buildings here, no temporary camps or homes. this was roman made, roman built, to last and to make it known.
part of her ached at seeing it, at knowing this had existed without her ever knowing, but the larger part of her focused - solely, singularly. percy is down there. the thought echoes over and over in her mind, drowning out any other observation, any other bodily need. it apparently takes over more, judging from the way annabeth jumps at the hand on her arm, sees piper's concerned expression. annabeth shakes her head, shakes it off, I'm fine. because she is - or. will be.
it takes too long to land, the whole ordeal with the statue and the protectors of the city and the soldiers that all come to meet them. it takes too long to make it to the city, to the crowd that has gathered to meet them. too long, too long, and annabeth feels every passing moment like a weight bearing down on her shoulders. she can't help but compare it to the sky, to atlas, to the time she had held this all together and waited, known that percy would be the one to find her, and now-
piper and jason take the lead with the discussions, because while annabeth walks at the front of the procession, her attention could not be further from the woman who greets them. she meets her eyes, recognizes something familiar in the pulled back shoulders and lifted chin, but annabeth doesn't care. annabeth meets the look with one of her own, frustration and anger and panic and desperation making the very air of this beautiful place feel toxic, and then annabeth is looking for someone else.
he is here, I know he's here, I know he's alive and he's okay and he's-
all she caught was a glimpse, barely a fraction of an image, of a figure with dark wind-swept hair in the crowd and she knew. her vision tunneled, her focus singular, and without warning or even words she pushes her way through the crowd. distantly, she hears the woman, the leader of these romans, say something about going to find food and talk some more and welcome one of their own back, but annabeth doesn't really hear it. doesn't care. because right then, the only thing that matters is that there is too much distance between her and him. that faces keep walking in her line of sight.
even his name catches in her throat. her lips move, all that she's been feeling bubbling up in her throat. percy! percy! here! percy, we're here! percy percy percy- but no sound comes out. finally, after what feels like lifetimes (but really only amounts to a few moments) she's able to make it through, close enough that she can see him, really see him. he's turning to her, too, and there is a physical weight that is lifted from her at seeing his face, his eyes.
part of her wants to laugh, wants to cry, wants to reach out and grab him and kiss him until they both pass out from lack of oxygen. he meets her eyes and her expression lifts, her body nearly lifts, and her mouth is open. ]
Per- [ percy. he's here. he's alive. he's alive and she's found him and-
and it is wrong.
his eyes are a bit wide as they stare at her, not out of recognition, not out of excitement, not out of sarcasm or pranks or even heightened surprise. annabeth has spent a lot of time looking into those sea green eyes over the last few years, and the last time they looked like that had been the first time they'd spoken. when his eyes had opened in the infirmary. when she'd looked down with jealousy and disdain and had told him you drool in your sleep.
it stops her in her tracks, the very moment he says um, hey — and annabeth is very nearly certain her heart stops beating. hey. hey. ]
Percy...? [ she says, she finally gets out, despite the dry, painful scrape of her voice in his throat. she feels that familiar panic well in her gut again, bubble and surge, from the pit of her stomach. but there is also a voice in her, hard and stubborn, that says no, no, it's fine. you've found him, it will all be okay. and that voice is the only thing that keeps her standing, only a few feet from him now, as she searches his face.
it has to be there - the answers, the problems, everything she'll need to fix this. everything that juno or hera or whoever had taken from her. it's all right there, so close, and yet all she can't move. ]
What is it? [ her voice is hard when she speaks, covering the fact it very nearly shakes. she won't let it, won't let anyone know until she can figure out how to make this better. ] What's wrong?
i'm....so sorry this got so far away from me.....sobs
which, for demigods, is nothing new - between their visions in the form of dreams, or nightmares of the monsters they've faced, or simply because their brain and body won't turn off, sleep was a difficult thing to grasp. usually, the best course of action to obtain it was sheer exhaustion, which - for better or worse - was usually pretty easy to find. and annabeth was exhausted, from the lack of sleep and the waiting. it had taken two days since tyson and mrs. o'leary had sent back word from new rome. two days until leo got the argo ii up and running well enough to take. days where there was nothing for annabeth to do but think and worry and strategize and-
well. not pray. not that her mother would hear her.
two days, and then it was time to take leo's baby across the united states of america. two days, until annabeth was faced with the very real and very humbling fact that was new rome. she had spent the entire trip pacing the deck, the burning behind her eyes a symptom of the days, weeks, months it's felt like since she's been able to rest - but also the knowledge of what was to come. her pacing only stopped when they were close enough to see it, close enough that jason had stiffened where he was on the bow, where leo had leaned over the railing to catch a glimpse. for a moment, it had almost taken annabeth's breath away - seeing the planned city, the neighborhoods, the buildings. a city was presented before her, and all it did was make her chest ache - there were no wooden buildings here, no temporary camps or homes. this was roman made, roman built, to last and to make it known.
part of her ached at seeing it, at knowing this had existed without her ever knowing, but the larger part of her focused - solely, singularly. percy is down there. the thought echoes over and over in her mind, drowning out any other observation, any other bodily need. it apparently takes over more, judging from the way annabeth jumps at the hand on her arm, sees piper's concerned expression. annabeth shakes her head, shakes it off, I'm fine. because she is - or. will be.
it takes too long to land, the whole ordeal with the statue and the protectors of the city and the soldiers that all come to meet them. it takes too long to make it to the city, to the crowd that has gathered to meet them. too long, too long, and annabeth feels every passing moment like a weight bearing down on her shoulders. she can't help but compare it to the sky, to atlas, to the time she had held this all together and waited, known that percy would be the one to find her, and now-
piper and jason take the lead with the discussions, because while annabeth walks at the front of the procession, her attention could not be further from the woman who greets them. she meets her eyes, recognizes something familiar in the pulled back shoulders and lifted chin, but annabeth doesn't care. annabeth meets the look with one of her own, frustration and anger and panic and desperation making the very air of this beautiful place feel toxic, and then annabeth is looking for someone else.
he is here, I know he's here, I know he's alive and he's okay and he's-
all she caught was a glimpse, barely a fraction of an image, of a figure with dark wind-swept hair in the crowd and she knew. her vision tunneled, her focus singular, and without warning or even words she pushes her way through the crowd. distantly, she hears the woman, the leader of these romans, say something about going to find food and talk some more and welcome one of their own back, but annabeth doesn't really hear it. doesn't care. because right then, the only thing that matters is that there is too much distance between her and him. that faces keep walking in her line of sight.
even his name catches in her throat. her lips move, all that she's been feeling bubbling up in her throat. percy! percy! here! percy, we're here! percy percy percy- but no sound comes out. finally, after what feels like lifetimes (but really only amounts to a few moments) she's able to make it through, close enough that she can see him, really see him. he's turning to her, too, and there is a physical weight that is lifted from her at seeing his face, his eyes.
part of her wants to laugh, wants to cry, wants to reach out and grab him and kiss him until they both pass out from lack of oxygen. he meets her eyes and her expression lifts, her body nearly lifts, and her mouth is open. ]
Per- [ percy. he's here. he's alive. he's alive and she's found him and-
and it is wrong.
his eyes are a bit wide as they stare at her, not out of recognition, not out of excitement, not out of sarcasm or pranks or even heightened surprise. annabeth has spent a lot of time looking into those sea green eyes over the last few years, and the last time they looked like that had been the first time they'd spoken. when his eyes had opened in the infirmary. when she'd looked down with jealousy and disdain and had told him you drool in your sleep.
it stops her in her tracks, the very moment he says um, hey — and annabeth is very nearly certain her heart stops beating. hey. hey. ]
Percy...? [ she says, she finally gets out, despite the dry, painful scrape of her voice in his throat. she feels that familiar panic well in her gut again, bubble and surge, from the pit of her stomach. but there is also a voice in her, hard and stubborn, that says no, no, it's fine. you've found him, it will all be okay. and that voice is the only thing that keeps her standing, only a few feet from him now, as she searches his face.
it has to be there - the answers, the problems, everything she'll need to fix this. everything that juno or hera or whoever had taken from her. it's all right there, so close, and yet all she can't move. ]
What is it? [ her voice is hard when she speaks, covering the fact it very nearly shakes. she won't let it, won't let anyone know until she can figure out how to make this better. ] What's wrong?