Hey everyone! This is the story I mentioned wanting to write a few times, set after BoO. I finally did it!

As most of you probably know, I wrote a story about, gosh, 2 years ago now, called Long Road Ahead, about Percy and Annabeth after they come back from Tartarus and the war. The problem, obviously, is that I wrote it before even HoH came out, so it is not very accurate. This isn't the same story though. I'm not rewriting LRA because I personally like it even if it isn't quite cannon now. This story, I am writing because, personally, I felt that Blood of Olympus left a few too many loose ends untied and I honestly was pretty disappointed in it as a final book. And so, I present to you, All That Matters, a post-BoO story.

Really quick, before you start reading, I might be changing the title, assuming I can come up with a better one (Ideas are welcome!), so please, don't get too confused if it is something different in the future.

This chapter is in Annabeth's POV, but I think I am going to write this story with alternating POVs every other chapter that will switch between Percy and Annabeth. And for this first chapter, if you read Long Road Ahead, you already saw a Percy/Sally reunion, but, a) this one will be slightly different, and b) if you're anything like me, and by that, I mean seriously upset about not getting one in the books, you hopefully won't mind too much. :) Chapter 1 is on the shorter side. You can expect longer chapters in the future.

I originally planned to wait to write this until school was out for the summer, but I thought you all might like it before then. So, because of this, updates may be infrequent for the next 3 or so weeks because I have multiple AP exams, finals, and an SAT coming up. But I will do my best.

Okay, I think I am done rambling for now. Enjoy and please let me know what you think!

Annabeth

Percy's foot tapped impatiently against the floor of the subway car as the train carried us, along with hundreds of other New Yorkers, across the city's underground. His posture was rigid, his spine straight against his seat back, arms folded as he stared down at them, looking both nervous and excited, and lost in thought.

Normally, his restlessness and his inability to sit still were endearing, if not completely annoying-like when we were waiting for our food to arrive at a restaurant or stuck waiting for the crosswalk signal to change during rush hour traffic in Manhattan. This time, at least, his impatience was justified.

We were on our way into the city, to Percy's apartment. It would be the first time he saw his parents in over nine months.

I had asked him earlier this morning if he wanted to go alone to see them. It didn't seem right for me to impose like that, but he had been adamant that I go with him. And honestly, I wasn't in a huge rush to be away from him so soon after the war anyway. Besides, it would be nice to see Sally and Paul again. Things with my own family, who I planned on calling later tonight, were still kind of complicated, but with Percy's parents, it was easy.

It had been two days since Gaea had risen and almost destroyed the world. Two days since the Romans had declared war on the Greeks. And two days since we'd had to stop them all and save the world again. And in that time, I'd watched Percy grow more and more impatient to go home. We'd had to stay at Camp Half-Blood long enough to help with the wounded, burn the shrouds of lost campers, and for the members of the quest to be officially welcomed back before the Roman demigods went home to Camp Jupiter. All the members, that is, except Leo, whose laurel wreath had burned atop the shroud his cabin had made for him.

I still wasn't sure how to feel about Leo. So many had been lost, but Leo's death had been one of the hardest blows. I'd only known him for a little over a year, since he'd first shown up with Piper and Jason, and he'd annoyed me the majority of the time. And yet, still he'd grown on me. And now he was gone, and had died saving the rest of us.

But that was how life worked for half-bloods. We fought battles we were too young to be fighting, and we lost friends who were too young to be lost. It wasn't the first time it had happened, and it wouldn't be the last.

Percy and I had left camp that morning and had taken a taxi, which had gotten us as far as the outskirts of Manhattan before the traffic had gotten bad and Percy, too impatient to sit in it, had had the cabbie drop us off there so we could jump on a subway to take us the rest of the way.

Traveling like this clearly annoyed Percy when he was as anxious to get home as he was. Normally, he probably would have relied on Blackjack, his Pegasus, to take him into the city much faster than any mortal transportation could. But Blackjack was still recovering from the injuries he'd sustained on the boat with Reyna. The praetor had kept him alive, but the flying horse was in no shape yet to take anyone anywhere. Percy had nearly had a heart attack when he'd found out his horse had been stabbed-he loved Blackjack. The other Pegasi were either recovering themselves or still too shaken up to be of much use as rides. So here we were.

Still looking at him, I placed a hand on his leg, just above his knee. The contact seemed to break him out of his thoughts. He looked at me and I raised my eyebrows, questioning. Are you okay? Percy nodded and uncrossed his arms to place his hand over mine. I turned my own palm up to hold his better and he intertwined our fingers.

He'd been more reserved since the quest, quieter. If I hadn't been so good at knowing his thoughts without him speaking them, it probably would have been driving me crazy. Then again, I probably wasn't quite the same either. The nightmares that kept me awake at night were evidence enough of that. We'd been through literal hell on that quest. And it would take some time to heal.

But I had Percy back. We were together again. That was all that mattered.

The subway slowed for another stop and the doors opened, allowing a handful of people to funnel out and emitting just as many new ones before they closed and the train accelerated again. The next stop was ours.

It was about 10am by the time we emerged from the subway station onto the crowded sidewalks, already growing hot as noon approached. Percy and I both wore shorts and camp T-shirts, but they did little to help with the August humidity. He didn't seem to notice though.

He'd paused at the top of the steps and took in our surroundings for a second, my favorite smile slowly appearing on his face. When he looked at me, his green eyes were alight with newfound excitement, like the fact that he was actually going home hadn't quite hit him until now. "Let's go," he said, taking my hand in his, and led the way through the throng of New Yorkers.

Percy's apartment building was only a few blocks away from the subway and it wasn't very long before we were right in front of it. The streets had grown slightly less crowded now that we were on a residential block and parked cars bordered the sidewalk on either side of the road. Percy walked right in, towing me behind him.

When Hera had taken him and swapped him out for Jason, she had done so in the middle of the night, so everything, including the keys to his apartment building, had been left behind in the Poseidon cabin. Percy, either because the elevator took too long or because the Doors of Death had, in fact, been an elevator (I wasn't sure I would ever voluntarily use one again), opted to use the stairs, which his key allowed him access to and, within minutes, the two of us stood in front of the familiar green door of his parents' apartment.

He paused before knocking-it was a better idea then just letting himself in after having been missing for the better part of a year. Turning to look at me, he asked, "I'm not too banged up, right? I don't want my mom to freak out."

Despite myself, I smiled as the part of Percy's personality I loved most made an appearance.

The last few days and occasional doses of Nectar and Ambrosia had allowed all but the worst of our injuries to heal completely. Percy, whose face and nose had been swollen and still slightly bloody when we'd first gotten back to camp, looked about as good as possible: the black eyes he'd sported for a while afterward having faded into nonexistence and the other injuries he'd sustained mostly gone as well. Aside from a handful of still-healing cuts and bruises, the only real evidence of the little trip we'd taken through Tartarus and the war we'd just fought was his hair, which was uneven and slightly burnt at the edges-probably from the Phlegathon, but, overall, not horribly alarming.

"No, Seaweed Brain," I answered, "You look good."

He grinned. "Well, you look perfect, so I guess I can't be that bad." I smiled wider. That first bit wasn't true, but I would take the compliment anyway.

"Ready?" I asked in response.

He looked back toward the door and nodded, squeezing my hand once before letting it go and lifting it to knock on it. He took a deep breath and said; "Here goes nothing." And he knocked.

Thanks so much for reading! Hope you liked it!

Again, please leave your thoughts; I'd love to hear them, as well as any ideas you have for future chapters. Believe me, they help a lot!