"No." He just shakes his head as she keeps blaming herself, like every fibre of his being is just denying what she's saying. He doesn't believe that. He can't; it's just not in him. "Arachne wrecked that cavern. And she dragged you in after her."

We're going to get through this, he wants to say, but the words stick in his throat. It's taken six months, but even Percy has reached the point where he doesn't know if they will, where he can't say it because he doesn't know if it's true.

It's such a small, simple faith. Something that's always seemed like the most obvious thing in the world to him. Losing it shouldn't feel like having the ground ripped from underneath him, like falling over again.

But the words just won't come. He chokes on a sob and kisses her, brief and messy and desperate. "I love you. So much, I love you so much."

It's all he can offer her, right now.