The door stood tall, silent, unmoved, as if mocking her. She took in a ragged breath. She can do this. Of course she can. Her eyes darted left and right, like expecting someone's going to jump out at her, pointing, screaming what a coward she was. She was. She is.

Waves of nausea were running through her body. Her next breath seemed too difficult, too heavy.

"I can do this."

All she'd been doing was running away. The whole day she locked herself up in the room, and every time Piper or Clarisse or anybody came in the room when she unlocked it, she pretended to be asleep. But it's time.

She knew it; Leo had told her the exact time when they would arrive.

And now they really have arrived.

She didn't think it would be that easy. Only one obstacle throughout the five days' journey? Highly impossible, in demigod world. It should be impossible. Yet here they were.

No hold-up. No questions. Everything went smoothly.

But why does she feel like everything, from the acknowledgement of the guards, to the opening of the gates, and now to the somewhat welcoming feel since the arrival of the ship- seems wrong?

You're thinking too much, Annabeth.

He's out there.

They were informed, and their leader's coming back.

He's near.

And they know that a truce needs to be made in these crucial times.

She can't do this.

Quickly, she ran to the toilet, and dry-heaved. Nothing comes out. How can it, when the last meal she had was two days ago? Tears sting at her eyes. She glanced at the mirror as she weakly stood.

He can't see me like this.

Her hair was a tangled mess. The curls were unruly, and after going so long without brushing it, they became unmanageable. The shine usually there was gone, but then, it's always been gone since the last half a year.

He'll be disgusted.

She hasn't had a shower in days. Or cleaned herself in any way for that matter. Her faded orange camp shirt was crumpled, and her jeans had some crumbs from the food that Connor and Travis left at the front of her door two nights ago. Her skin felt sticky and itchy, and she hasn't cleaned the crusts of dried blood on her forearms.

He'll hate me.

She could feel everything. His gentle fingers as he brushed away her tears. His firm and undoubting grasp as he pulled her away from danger. His protectiveness when he didn't let go. His shield, his belief, his humanness.

Her gray eyes looked torn; half filled with happiness and half filled with fear.

They look like his eyes.

Frustrated, she threw a punch towards the ever-perfect glass.

Because what scared her the most was that she didn't know from where her happiness came from. She didn't know what the fear was for either.

A hesitant knock on the door. "Annabeth? It's… Are you ready?" Piper's concerned voice came through the door.

She tried to put on her mask, tried to put on that cheery voice, say that she's okay, just nervous, even tried to put on her calm, collected voice, but she found that everything that she wanted to say was lodged in her throat.

She tried again. Nothing.

Finally she choked, and let the tears stream down her face. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't….

She struggled to pull herself together. Get a grip, Annabeth. So you're scared. Nothing big. You've been scared before. But you got over it. How is this any different? Where did your courage go? She scolded herself.

She sobbed again as she thought of the answer: It went missing the same moment he did.

"Annabeth?"

The door opened, and she could feel, rather than hear, Piper's footsteps walking towards her.

"Oh, Annabeth," she sighed and immediately pulled the older girl into her arms.

"I'm fine," Annabeth tried futilely to say again, but again, she couldn't, and choked instead. But she figured Piper knew what she was trying to say, and didn't believe what she said, because she whispered, "You can't torture yourself like this. Things happen. Things we don't want to, things we wish would never happen, but it happens anyway. We can get through this."

Piper pulled away after patting her back for a few minutes, and looked softly at her tears-stricken face. "Chin up, Annabeth."

Annabeth smiled weakly and raised her hand to wipe off the tears, until Piper's hand caught her. Annabeth frowned at her, confused. Why was she- Annabeth noticed where her cerulean eyes were staring at. Her arm. Her additional arm sleeves were rolled up.

Immediately, she tugged her arm, trying to cover what Piper has clearly already seen. For a moment, when Piper didn't let go, she feared that Piper would expose her, that she'd drag her out and tell the others, and then all of them would give her looks of disgust… that Jason would then bring Percy along and he'd see her, and he'd be ashamed; ashamed of her patheticness, ashamed of what she had become, ashamed that this was the girl that he loved…

But just a second before Annabeth decided to get down on her knees and beg, Piper let her go.

Her eyes were misty, her jaw taut, and Annabeth suddenly knew that she was trying to hold herself together, what Annabeth had failed to do.

"I know it's hard- how hard, I don't know, probably harder than I could handle- but it doesn't have to come to this, Annabeth," she said, her voice just above a whisper, when she finally composed herself.

She didn't know what to say, but a simple, "Thank you."

Piper nodded curtly and headed towards the door. "Clean yourself up. You can't hide any longer, and we've already met them," she paused, before adding softly, "I think he's searching for you."

For a second, she felt like her old self again: happy, carefree, in love.

…

Anxiousness.

That's all he felt, all he could ever feel since the news last night. He couldn't sleep, couldn't think, couldn't eat. He was too anxious.

And that anxiousness built as he saw their boat in the horizon, slowly gliding its way into the area of the camp. It eased when he saw the guards letting them through, and when all the other Romans seemed fine with it. Well, most Romans.

The knot in his gut loosened when the ship landed, and no one attacked them or brandished their weapons. The worry was starting to dissipate when he shook hands with their leader, or rather, the Romans' leader, Jason, and he even felt reassured when he saw Clarisse, Connor, Travis, Nico, and a few unfamiliar but friendly faces.

But when the one person he was hoping so much to see didn't appear, the anxiousness took home in his gut again.

He attempted to not look that desperate.

Maybe she was busy. Maybe she needed to sort some things first. Maybe she didn't want to come.

The anxiousness attacked him full-force.

They introduced each other. They discussed what was happening. They discussed strategy.

But all the time, the worry didn't fade and his thoughts stayed on her.

He thought he saw a younger girl, who looks native and came a few minutes later than Jason, give him a pitiful look before she looked forward and concentrated on the meeting again. What did that look mean? Does she know where she is? Does she know why she isn't here? Maybe that pitiful look was because she knew the exact reason why she didn't come, and it has something to do with him-

"Sorry I'm late."

Octavian stopped talking- who gave him the authority to even speak, he had no idea- and glared at the now open doors. "Who are you?" He said through gritted teeth.

Percy couldn't see who was standing there- the light coming from the open door was so bright, and all he could see was a girl's silhouette. He felt his breath hitch and his heart skip a beat.

She looked familiar. Once he replayed her voice, it also sounded familiar.

"I had to get some things done- inform our camp leader and all that- and I had to be sure that there wasn't anybody left behind at the ship-" she continued.

She was walking inside now, slowly, seeming hesitant though her strides were confident. He could see now that she was wearing worn sneakers and faded blue jeans. She was wearing a dark blue t-shirt, and what looked like another green shirt inside with long sleeves.

"I asked who you were, not the reason why you were late," Octavian said sneeringly, then rolled his eyes.

Finally she stepped to the middle of the room, and every single feature of her seemed to hit him, like a sudden breath of life. Her golden waves framing her face, her soft skin, her set lips, her grey eyes.

"Annabeth Chase."

Just as sudden, her eyes darted to him, and he saw the shield behind her eyes crumble. He didn't know why he was just sitting there anymore.

He bolted towards her without any more thought, and held her so tight against him, not wanting to let go. He wanted to remember more- remember her in his arms, the feel of her with him, her heart against his. She was holding him just as tight, shaking, and wondered if she was crying. He pulled away, feeling the need to see her, and he felt complete when he saw her gaze lovingly at him.

Tears were in her eyes; he kissed them away.

She felt so real, and he needed to reassure himself.

He kissed her forehead. He kissed her left cheek. He kissed her right cheek.

He looked at her, nose to nose, and felt his breath taken away just looking at her shining eyes.

He felt a huge grin spreading on his face. "I missed you, Wise Girl," he whispered.

She laughed. It wasn't loud, and it sounded strained like she hasn't laughed for a long time, but it was a genuine laugh. She gazed fondly back at him, an identical smile on her face. "I missed you too, Seaweed Brain."

Tears were leaking from her eyes again, but he brushed them away as he cupped her face, bringing her much closer to him.

"I love you," he whispered, before closing the gap between them, not letting her answer.

Her lips were salty with tears, but he didn't care. He kept kissing her, kept brushing his lips against hers, needing to feel her. She was warm, she was real, she was the only thing that he wanted to hold on to. Only one thought was running through his mind: Annabeth, Annabeth, Annabeth, Annabeth…

He pulled away, ending their kiss with butterfly kisses on the corners of her lips, when she gave indication that she needed to breathe.

Her cheeks were flushed, but she was still smiling. "Welcome back," she said lightly.

He nodded, pecking her lips one more time, before agreeing, "It's good to be back."

What? Why did I stop in the middle of a happy scene? Because I'm mean!

Nah, it's just I've recently finished this great book, but the end was a cliffhanger, and I have to wait ONE WHOLE YEAR before I can know what happens. So yeah. Ok, so that is mean.

But I'm so happy with this right now. I am a Percabeth fan too, you know.

You know what you gotta do~ to catalyse my writing~ (is that even right?)

-NK