Chapter Two: Temporarily Going in Different Directions

“I got your messages,” Sally said, sitting down at the table with Percy and Annabeth. “What’s all this about gallivanting off to Europe?”

Percy had his mouth full of blue chocolate-chip cookie, but even if he hadn’t, he wasn’t sure what to say to that.

He’d sent Sally paper aeroplane messages via Coach Hedge Airways, but tried to avoid the dangerous details and stick to comments on the positive things—the scenery, funny anecdotes about his crewmates, describing New Rome and his hopes for a future there with Annabeth. He hadn’t even dared tell her the reason for their quest, since he knew there was no way to glass-half-full describe going up against the earth itself. He certainly hadn’t mentioned his and Annabeth’s detour through Tartarus, explaining the lull in communications as having run out of paper (which was an excuse he was sure Sally would never have bought in a million years but he couldn’t think of anything better).

Annabeth chose to fill the silence. “Well, the quest was to, um, recover a statue in Rome and then kill some giants in Greece. We couldn’t really do that from here.”

Sally’s eyes narrowed slightly—she knew there was much more to it than that. “Percy? I know you don’t like to worry me, but when you don’t tell me things it just makes me more anxious. Please …”

Percy glanced at Annabeth. “Um …” He was saved by the sound of a key in the lock. “Paul!”

Percy’s stepfather came charging in, grinned and grabbed him in a bear hug. “Percy! It’s good to have you back home, son.”

“It’s good to be back,” Percy said into his shoulder. “You’ve no idea.”

Annabeth made a small, strange noise, watching them, but when Percy looked over at her quizzically she just shook her head and smiled, tears in her eyes.

When the hug finished, and Paul was hunting for another box of tissues for them all, Percy fixed a Talk to me expression on his girlfriend.

Annabeth met his eyes, looking slightly guilty. “I did promise my dad I’d visit him before the end of the summer. And I really need to see him. But—”

“Go see him, then,” Percy said. The words were very difficult to get out of his mouth, but since he couldn’t hop on a plane, he knew it wouldn’t be practical for them to go together.

“You can’t fly, Percy, remember?”

“I know. It’s okay. We can’t stay joined at the hip every second.”

Annabeth frowned; he had a feeling she knew how hard it was for him to say that, and how little he really believed it. “I won’t be long,” she promised. “And we’re not separating, we’re just—temporarily going in different directions. I promise I’ll come back.”

“You’d better.”

Sally had watched their exchange in silence. “Are you leaving now, Annabeth?”

“Um … I guess I should.” Annabeth stood up, and Percy fought the urge to pull her back down on her seat and beg her not to leave him. “Mind if I call my dad from here and let him know I’m coming?”

“Go ahead.”

Percy fidgeted on his chair while Annabeth made her call, staring unseeingly at the table. He’d lost his appetite for cookies. Sally looked at him carefully.

“Percy? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Percy replied, which was probably one of the biggest lies he had ever told her. He could see she didn’t believe him.

“All right,” Sally said slowly. “Why don’t we talk later? Do you want to unpack now? Or we could just relax, watch a movie together or something?”

Percy forced a smile. “Relaxing sounds good.”

Annabeth put the phone down and picked up her bag.

“Do you want a lift?” Paul asked, hovering in the doorway with an unopened box of Kleenex.

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine with a cab.”

Percy jumped up and pulled Annabeth into a kiss. She clutched him close, and he realised she was just as reluctant for them to separate as he was. He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

“Make sure you come back to me,” he mumbled.

“I will.” She didn’t even call him Seaweed Brain. “I promise.”

-

Sally wished she could figure out what was wrong with her son. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen Percy upset or emotionally wounded, but whatever was troubling him now, it cut very deeply. She wasn’t blind; she could see how difficult it had been for him to let Annabeth leave—and now she was gone, he seemed even less like himself.

But there was no use in pushing him until he was ready to open up. She just hoped he didn’t keep whatever it was bottled up for too long.

The three of them were curled up in front of a DVD, one of Percy’s favourites. He’d been trying to act like his normal self, smiling and making jokes, but it wasn’t heartfelt. When he thought Sally and Paul weren’t watching, his face creased up, his eyes darkening. He looked old and fraught, and yet simultaneously young and fearful. Sally wished she knew how to ease his pain.

They ordered pizza, which Percy only picked at. This was the most alarming sign so far. Sally couldn’t remember the last time he had lost his appetite. Had it ever happened at all?

“Would you rather eat something else, honey?” she asked desperately as he played with his second slice. He jumped and looked up.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’m just not that hungry.”

Paul jokingly put a hand on his forehead, and Percy pulled away, smiling faintly. “I’m fine, really. Just tired, I guess. It’s been a long year.” His voice sounded so melancholy it broke Sally’s heart.

“You should get an early night,” she said gently.

For a moment she could have sworn she saw something like alarm flash in Percy’s eyes, but only for a split second, and she figured she had imagined it. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “As long as you don’t mean like now.”

Sally chuckled. “No, I don’t.”

Despite his words, he almost dropped off to sleep before the DVD ended. Sally almost wished he had; he looked shattered. But he jumped when his eyes were half-closed and sat up properly.

“I take it back,” she said. “Maybe you should go to bed now.”

“Mom,” he groaned. “It’s barely evening.”

“I know, but you’re obviously exhausted. It’ll be good for you to get some extra sleep, get back into a normal routine. You’ll feel much better for it, and if you decide to go back to school—Not that you have to decide that yet,” she added quickly.

“Oh, it’s decided,” Percy said. “I’m going back to Goode. Annabeth’s gonna come with me, too.”

Paul blinked. “She is?”

“Yeah. She’s already put in her application. Paul, I don’t suppose you could … put in a good word, or something?”

“I … could,” Paul said slowly. “But doesn’t she live in San Francisco? Where is she planning to stay?”

“Oh, er … with us.”

“Us?”

“If that’s okay,” Percy said quickly. “And just to clarify, we’re talking spare room here, not … uh, the other option.” He turned scarlet.

“Percy …” Sally said slowly.

“I know we haven’t had a chance to discuss it with you,” he said. “Sorry. But—Mom, I can’t spend any more time without her. And vice versa.”

Meeting his eyes, she could see it was true. Whatever had happened during this quest, it had resulted in pretty strong co-dependency. He needed her around.

Sally looked sideways at Paul. “I suppose we do have a spare room …”

“And if it’s all right with her family …”

“Okay,” Sally said with a nod. “She’s welcome to stay with us.”

“Yes! Thanks!”

“Now off to bed,” she said firmly.

“Wait, that was a condition?”

It hadn’t been, but she said, “Yes. Get some sleep, Percy. See you in the morning.”

“Okay, Mom. Night.”

-

Over the next few days, things in the Jackson household tried to get back to normal. Of course, ‘normal’ was relative for them at any given time.

While Annabeth was gone, Percy kept himself busy to distract himself from her absence. Sally took a break from her work to spend time with him, but he couldn’t stand to talk, or even think, about the quest without Annabeth right next to him. He felt much as he had the last few times they had parted; vulnerable and incomplete, like he had lost half of himself.

His parents didn’t push, and they helped him focus on other things. Between the three of them, they sorted out the spare room. (The first time ever Percy had voluntarily done housework.) But that was during the day.

Ever since coming back from Tartarus, Percy hadn’t slept for a single night without reliving part of it in his dreams. Annabeth had been the same. On the ship, and then later in the Poseidon cabin, the two of them had been spending their nights in each other’s arms. No ‘funny business’, as Hedge would put it—simply the knowledge that the other was right there. The nightmares still came, but weren’t as bad that way.

Without Annabeth there, Percy couldn’t bring himself to try and sleep. After Sally and Paul had said goodnight, he slipped out of his window and sat on the fire escape, attempting to study in the orange glow of the nearest streetlamp. Studying was not his favourite pastime, especially in the holidays, but he’d missed so much school lately and he was determined to graduate. Besides, he couldn’t think of anything else to do which wouldn’t wake his parents up.

On the third night, despite the riveting eleventh grade biology textbook on his lap, he couldn’t keep himself awake any longer.

Annabeth’s skin was sallow, her eye sockets dark and sunken. Her beautiful hair had dried into a skein of cobwebs. She looked like she’d been stuck in a cool, dark mausoleum for decades, slowly withering into a desiccated husk. When she turned to look at him, her features momentarily blurred into mist.

“Annabeth!” Percy woke with a gasp, bashing his head on a railing. He was so shaken he barely noticed.

His textbook had slipped from his lap. He shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around him, though in truth it wasn’t really the cold he was trembling from. He couldn’t get the image of Death Mist Annabeth out of his head, and he choked up, wishing she were here now so he could reassure himself she was really alive and whole.

“Percy?”

He yelped in shock and looked around. Paul was standing at the window, staring at him in disbelief. “What on earth are you doing out here? It’s two in the morning!”

“Um.” Percy couldn’t think how to reply. Paul spotted the textbook, and his eyes widened.

“Percy, get your butt in here right now.”

Percy reluctantly climbed back inside his bedroom. Paul put an arm around his shoulders. “You’re freezing! Why on earth were you out there?”

“I just didn’t want to wake you and Mom.”

“And the late-night studying session? As a teacher I appreciate the dedication, but it’s really not necessary; it’s a bad idea, considering how tired you are already—don’t think we haven’t noticed. More than that, it’s definitely not you. So. What’s up?”

Percy shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmares?” Paul said, expression softening.

“Mm.”

“Anything I can do?”

Call Annabeth and ask her to come back.

“Thanks, but no,” Percy said instead. “I’ll be okay, Paul; I’ll get through it.”

His words didn’t seem to reassure his stepfather. “Look, Percy, you’ve got to take better care of yourself. Fighting off monsters is one thing; you’re great at it—but other things, not so much. Go back to bed. Even if you don’t sleep, try and rest at least.”

Percy knew there was no use arguing. “Okay, fine.”

TBC ...

Notes