tushanshu_logs | (no subject)

The hesitation and pause before he responds makes her curious. Not quite suspicious, but her eyebrows do crinkle a little. At least she was right about it being moonlace. Come to think of it, she remembers seeing it in his bedroom before, but it never registered as much more beyond a random plant, probably Sally's doing. She feels kind of stupid for not recognizing it at the time, but to be fair, she had a tendency to get preoccupied by one of two things when spending time in Percy's room. And it'd been over a year since she's been.

She pulls her hand away from it, giving it a glance before looking back at him. "When did you find it?" They've separated a handful of times while in Sinbrilee, so clearly it was doing one of those, but he hadn't brought it up. Then it occurs to her that he brought it here, too, instead of their suite in Metal. It's odd. She looks at the plant again, as if it could answer the question mentally.

Spoilers, it doesn't. With the tension that hasn't quite gone out of the air, Annabeth's still a little hesitant when she speaks up again, but she has to. Because he hadn't told her about it, for whatever reason. "And you're keeping it here because...?"

"A couple of days ago? I was just poking around, and I found it. Like how Mrs O'Leary just showed up last time." He stops himself there, knowing that he has a tendency to not shut up when he's nervous. Especially around Annabeth.

And then she asks the one thing he really didn't want her to, and he stamps on a flash of irritation. It's not like she can read minds, after all. And if she could, then she definitely would have asked, because his girlfriend is nosy.

He opens his mouth to lie about how it was just the first place he came, before realising what he's doing. His mouth shuts with a click as Percy makes a conscious decision to not go down that path. As uncomfortable as he's pretty sure this is about to get, he's sure he doesn't want to see where that path leads.

On the other hand, he also has no idea how to respond to that question. It's such a small thing, to have abruptly become so large in importance right now.

There's nothing inherently weird or off about that statement, unless you include the fact that he failed to mention it before now, and the fact that he's started to ramble. But clearly, it was still important enough to bring back into Keeliai.

Annabeth frowns, waiting for him to continue. And when he doesn't answer her completely, her frown deepens. If it'd been at any other point in time, maybe she wouldn't have suddenly been hit with a wave of grump and start teetering somewhere between annoyance and irritation. She crosses her arms, the look on her face turning expectant on top of the irked. It's on the tip of her tongue to snap at him, but she holds it back, waiting to see if there's a legitimate reason for the pause. Like thinking. Maybe he's thinking.

For some reason, that doesn't make her feel much better. And not just out of a consistent need to tease him over how little he takes the time to think.

He'd kind of been hoping for her to move on from the subject, but she doesn't say anything. Like she's waiting for him to continue.

He turns back to Mrs O'Leary for a moment, patting her on the side. "Outside, girl." Percy watches her leave, before running a hand through his hair and turning back to Annabeth. You need to stop hiding things from me.

It hadn't been hiding, not really. He thinks. "Okay, this is really dumbly involved for something that's so small, but it's not a big deal or anything, I promise. I just - you remember how I disappeared after Mount St. Helen's exploded?" He pretty sure she does, but it's the first thing that comes to mind.

Edited 2013-08-14 02:19 (UTC)

"Considering I nearly burned your burial shroud, yeah, I think I remember." Maybe that was a little harsh, but it's out before she really thinks about it enough to stop it. It's probably born out of lingering... whatevers.

She bites her lip and sighs, but it's at herself. At least until it catches up with her what he's probably getting at. She's like 90% sure she knows where he was for all that time, but it never felt necessary to bring up, and right now she's 90% sure it's going to head in that direction. Maybe she's still just annoyed he didn't bring up the plant itself until she noticed it. A little less sharply, she says, "Yes. I remember." How could she not? She spent two weeks hoping he wasn't dead.

Percy scowls. "I'm trying to explain, okay?" he bites out. Guilt pings him right after, and he can't tell if it's about what she said, or about what he did just now.

He shakes his head, cutting short his planned explanation. He doesn't need to get into it. "It's just from then. It's here because bringing it home would have meant explaining, and it's weird, and I just - it's important to me, but it's not a part of us. It doesn't need to be a part of us, or our home, so it's here."

Her lips draw into a tight line when he scowls. She didn't mean to snap, not exactly. The whole thing is just not anything she really wants to deal with right now. She doesn't respond right away, turning over the explanation.

"From Ogygia." It's not a question. There's nothing malcontent or particularly hostile in her tone either. It's mostly flat, edging on neutral. She's not hung up over it. It happened, it's over, and Percy loves her; nothing could make her doubt it anymore.

But coming off what just happened, the fact that she still doesn't really know what Hera told him, the idea that he sort of pushed it aside here is... she doesn't really know. She can't quite tell if it was avoidance, exactly. But she's irritated. "Why didn't you want to explain?" She runs a hand down her face. "No, I mean-" and Annabeth just groans. Because there's more that he's still not sharing, she can tell.

Maybe it just bothers her in that it's something important to him that she... doesn't know. That he didn't seem to want her to know. The thought of that just kind of adds to the frustration still quietly brewing.

He swallows, not really surprised that she figured it out. "Yeah." She doesn't sound mad, but something about her tone concerns him anyway.

Not enough to stop him from bristling in response to her blatant irritation, though. He's on the verge of snapping back again when she runs a hand down his face and his heart just kind of stutters to a stop.

Percy doesn't want to go down that path, either. He takes a moment to see if she's going to clarify, before tentatively stepping towards her, closing the distance between them. He tries to think of how to word what he wants to say, before just blurting it out in the hopes that it'll be okay. "I could - start from the beginning? If you want? Things are just - they're hard right now, Annabeth, I don't want to screw things up."

It's confirmation for something she already knew. But it doesn't really quell anything stirring.

He steps closer, and she finds herself doing the same, partially because she wants to and partially to put more distance between her and the moonlace. She sighs, expression somewhere between uncertainty and grumpy. "I know they are. I don't want to either."

Hard is an understatement; she really, really doesn't want to repeat a fight. She hates this - this undercurrent between them, and it's there inside her right now. But she needs to not snap at him, because it's not going to help. "I just -" Maybe it's an overreaction. It's just a plant, right? It's not like they have to share every detail of their lives.

Except they mostly kind of already do. There's no one who knows more about her than Percy. Her voice is a little quiet, tone itself mixed between that subtle irritation and that uncertainty. "You kept it from me." It's not even that much of a point against what he's said, and for a second she considers how childish it might sound. But she's Annabeth, and she's always been kind of possessive of her friends, and all of this right now sort of pokes at that track record. She just doesn't want to feel any kind of disconnect between them, especially now. Not after they just blew up at each other over lack of communication.

Percy reaches for her, unable to help himself and not really wanting to. His hand closes around hers, and he tangles their fingers together almost hesitantly, like he's not sure if he's allowed.

"Okay. Okay, so let's just - both try not to."

He hates the way her voice goes quiet, the uncertainty, and her actual words are a punch to the gut. "I didn't--" Well, no, he did. "I kept it from everyone. It was - I needed Ogygia, back then. I didn't know how much until I was there. I needed somewhere where I could live in peace, and recover, and just take a break from being Percy Jackson."

He swallows again, hoping that he's doing okay here. "There are seven of us now. But back then, there was only me. Ogygia - okay, I mean, you have to know who was there. Calypso offered me the chance to stay there, to let things in the rest of the world play out without me. And I turned her down, and I came back, but when I came back I still needed to keep that...as mine. I don't know, a reminder of what I could have had, and what I chose instead. That was important to me at the time. And it's still important now, but not in the same way. Obviously. And it just never seemed...relevant until now. It's like a whole world away."

Edited 2013-08-14 06:12 (UTC)

She takes his hand immediately, tightening her grip through his fingers. It doesn't really matter the tension or anything as long as they have each other, and the contact is a good reminder.

Annabeth doesn't really like thinking about that part of her life and friendship with Percy; she knew he needed the break, which was part of the reason she'd backed away after the entire experience of the Labyrinth, even if she didn't really want to. But with a prophecy like that hanging over his head, she couldn't really blame him either, as much as it'd hurt. (That's not even bringing Luke into the equation.)

And she gets it, everything he's saying. It makes sense in a way probably only Percy could get through to her. She doesn't know whether to feel guilty that she dragged it out of him selfishly or just relieved he shared anyway. She recognizes the significance and importance of it, even if it makes her feel awkward.

It's timing. It's terrible timing all over again, of his finding the moonlace. Coming off what he's told her, coming off how everything's been for them lately, it makes her wonder if he's thinking about needing another break. It's something they've both talked about, in just being so tired, in wanting to step back, even for a little while. But there's added worry and guilt on her end, because she's still blaming herself for the fall. What a wonderful time to feel like crying again; she doesn't, but the urge is there.

Instead of looking at him, she glances at the plant again, studying it while she tries to collect her thoughts into something coherent. It's not working very well.

"If - if only the turtle was more of a break, huh?" It's her attempt to meet in the middle, make a sort of truce without making any of this worse, but the uncertainty and undercurrent's still there. Tartarus looms again. What if he needs something like Ogygia again, this time because of her? She saw what it did to him already. Is doing to him. They both need a break, but there's something about the existence of the moonlace in the face of everything else that she can't stop lingering on.

Is that selfish? Here's something that's supposed to be his and she's reflecting it on herself, even after he shared it with her. This isn't going in any way she hoped or planned.

Percy has honestly been thinking that he needs a break, yes, bot not from her. He needs one with her. More than just a few stolen days with Tartarus still hanging over their heads, more than time spent together because they're too terrified to let each other out of their sight for too long. But there's no feasible way to get that, not without going through Tartarus and coming out the other side.

And the truth is that Percy is way too scared to do that. So they're stuck here, in ever conceivable way. "It was a break at first," he points out, thumb sliding absently back and forth over her hand. "The problem is, if we were at home, it'd all be over by now. One way or another. While we're here, it's just - always there."

And Percy is terrified of it. Because he can feel the pressure moulding him into something he knows he doesn't want to be, and he doesn't know how to stop it.

He's quiet for a moment, trying to think of how to save this, make it better.

"She also kissed me," he blurts. Genius. He scrambles mentally to follow up, because he's pretty sure he just made everything a thousand times worse. "And I mean, you'd just kissed me two weeks before, and I was pretty sure you'd know her legend anyway, and it was basically a really confusing time period for fifteen year old Percy Jackson. And then the moonlace showing up, I didn't really know how to explain everything without that coming up, and that's really the main reason why it's here. Because it's important to me, but our home is way more important, and I didn't really think that bringing in a memento of the girl who kissed me one time was really, um. Appropriate."

A pause, and then a groan. "Just hit me, I totally deserve it."

That's basically exactly it. There's been so much time - too much time - of it hanging over their heads, more time to think on it than to actually experience it, no matter what the end results. And Annabeth knows it hasn't been good for either of them.

Then he completely changes subjects to reveal what he does; Annabeth's face turns into something both unhappy and confused, but it's the rambling that really does it. And really, it's true, she does know the story of Calypso, like she knows just about every other story. So it's not really a surprise (kind of even just confirmation of assumptions), and everything was pretty much confusing for fifteen year old Annabeth Chase, too (even if he was totally a lot dumber about it). But it's not anymore, and that's the important part.

So is the way he keeps saying our home. Normally it would potentially send her into a panic, but there's a comfort in it here, in a place where they are safe and together, back of a turtle with other potential dangers be damned.

"Idiot," she mutters finally, and she does smack his arm, but not too long after, she leans closer and presses her forehead into his shoulder. "I love you. You can tell me anything."

Which is the crux of it, probably. Awkward feelings in the air and all, she doesn't want to be kept in the dark. All they have right now is that togetherness. She needs to hold on to it.

He holds his breath for so long that he thinks he might be seeing spots, but then she hits him, and everything is - well, not okay, but better. Violence means that she's not too worried about her name-calling being taken seriously.

Percy wraps his other arm around her when she leans into his shoulder, keeping her close. "I love you. And - I know that, I do. It was really just dumb awkward teenager stuff that had me not bringing it up. Not anything serious." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring: "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm really bad at thinking things through. I don't want to keep things from you, Annabeth."

She tucks her free hand on his side, almost a hug but not quite. "You're not the only one with awkward teenage stuff, you know," she grumbles.

Maybe it's not what she planned, but all things considered, it probably could have gone worse. Neither of them are yelling or crying, so that's a good sign. She lightly punches his side. "Of course I've noticed. I noticed from day one."

It's not what she wants to talk about, but it's easier for now. Her hand tightens a little in his shirt, her forehead pressing a little closer. Some of it's on her, too, for probably making a bigger deal out of it than it actually was. A habit, when it came to dealing with Percy Jackson, apparently. But she's at a bit of a loss for words now, too afraid of potentially swinging it back towards something worse, especially with the weight of Tartarus still hovering. Her fears aren't really losing him anymore - just what the cost of his loyalty will be on both of them.

"Thank you," she adds, muttered and barely audible into his shoulder.

Percy grunts a little when she punches him. "Uh, I'm pretty sure the thing you noticed about me on day one was the drooling thing. The whole not-thinking thing was more day zero. You know, the Minotaur and all."

He's trying desperately to keep the tone light, like he can somehow save them from themselves that way. The problem is, he can't tell if it's working, or if he's just swept their problems under the carpet.

Percy notices everything about the way she moves, how she comes in closer; his arm tightens around her, reciprocating. "Don't mention it." His hand lifts, stroking her curls lightly. There's a pause, before he just decides to go for it. "Are you - is it okay? Like we don't have to just stop talking about it or whatever it's brought up."

There's a hyper-awareness about him that their argument never really had resolution. He doesn't want to go back to that, but he also doesn't want to ignore her if she's having a problem or something.

"At least you don't drool as much anymore." The lightness is nice and she sort of attaches herself to it, even if she knows it's more temporary than anything else.

She sighs, breath blowing back into her face from where she's still hiding against him. "I want it to be okay." She means more than just the previous conversation, though it's definitely included. "I just - I don't know."

And she hates hates hates not knowing things, not knowing how to handle things. Especially things they can't keep avoiding. "I don't want anything to create, like, I don't know. Some kind of disconnect."

A disconnect is different from space - the latter of which she still needs but can't seem to give herself. They hadn't really fought like that in a while, maybe never even as intensely, at least with the same kind of desperation in the background. She doesn't want anything to come between them, and maybe she's a little worried something might. Not enough to completely shove them apart, not anything to make her doubt how much he loves her, but enough to worry her in a very Annabeth kind of fear.

"A disconnect?" Percy frowns a little over the top of her head. It's clear from his voice that he doesn't really understand what she's getting at. Honestly, Annabeth is just so much a part of him and his identity by this point, he really can't comprehend pulling away from her.

Except there's a niggling little thought in the back of his mind that points out pulling away might be for the best, if he's going to have a go at her like he did the other way. But he ignores that, because he's not going to do that again.

He's not.

"I don't understand." Big surprise.

Even if she can't see it, she can tell he's frowning. She just knows him too well.

"Not exactly, just -" and she groans, because she has no idea how to explain this. It's heavy on them both in decidedly different ways, and it's not doubt in losing him at all. Just some kind of wedge, maybe, a tension they won't be able to get rid of.

Annabeth wriggles her hand free from his, if only so she can wrap both arms around him. "This pressure, this - this tension." Better word choice, but she's still not entirely sure that's what she wants. Her voice gets a little quieter though. "I don't want anything like that to - to become something permanent."

Because of Tartarus. Because of her and his choice to follow her.

Percy's reluctant to let go of her hand at first, squeezing it before slowly untangling their fingers. He relaxes when she slides both arms around him, though, reassured.

"It won't."

He says it the instant she's done and he understands, blurting without thought. It won't, because it can't, because Annabeth is all he really has left at the end of the day. When the gods and Gaea and whoever else wants to screw with him have taken everything from him, stripped him down to a name and nothing more, he still has Annabeth, still clings to her against everything else in any world. Even themselves.

"I won't let it. We won't let it."

Percy can't get into the details, though, the hows and whys of not letting it, because he doesn't have the answers there. He doesn't know how they can fight this. All he really has in a gut feeling, blatant in his voice and stronger than any words or explanations he could ever come up with.

He speaks up barely after she's done, and her arms tighten around him over it. It's a sentiment she has to believe. Tartarus will be the worst thing they ever face, and they have to get through it; if they can do that, they can combat everything else, too.

And if she says anything right now, it might dampen how much she's clinging and believing in it. So instead, she just hugs him even more tightly, but the feeling's there in her grip - she doesn't know how to fight it either, but they will. If there's anything she's realized in her friendship with Percy, it's that he's always there, he always comes back, no matter what happens. And she needs that as much as anything. "We won't," she repeats finally, softly but no less believing. Even if they don't know how, getting past this sort of thing has always been them. She has to keep fighting against the idea that this time it might not.

More than anything else he's been able to tell himself, it's the way that Annabeth agrees with him that has him finally relaxing. Which in turn gets the air squeezed out of him by the way she's hugging him, but he'd be a crappy hero if he couldn't take a hug. Even from someone as strong as Annabeth.

He pulls away a little, just enough so that he can kiss her forehead. He pauses for a moment, considering, before a smile flickers across his face. Percy kisses her nose, her cheekbone, the opposite cheek itself; short, quick gestures of affection before he finds her mouth, easing his lips gently over hers. "Love you," he mumbles.

They have this. And they will always have this. There's no other option.

She can't help the flicker of a smile that creeps onto her own face when he kisses her, the softness of the gestures a nice change from the edge in the air between them. It's not completely gone, but it's enough for now.

Annabeth kisses him back easily, just as gently, her arms loosening enough to be something comfortable. "I love you, too."

And she'll hold on to that.