He didn't show up for breakfast, and that was normal. Even if she was waiting for him.

He must've slept in, but he wasn't in his cabin when she let herself check. As far as anyone knew, he hadn't even had a meal that day, and he'd missed his scheduled activities. 

Annabeth considered the possibility of him leaving last minute for something urgent. It stung a little that he hadn't come to her or said a quick goodbye, sure, but he'd be back. They were together now. Nothing, especially not a few short hours, could keep him away from her. Nothing could take that from them. 

For forty-eight hours, Percy was missing. He hadn't IMed anyone. Blackjack was still in the stables. 

Annabeth suspected the gods. How else could he disappear without a trace, without warning? It could only be the work of a god. A certain goddess came to mind, in particular. 

But it was only speculation because Percy didn't show up after a week and no god came forward. Annabeth carried on with her daily routines and she worried sick every moment there wasn't something to distract her. He'd disappeared before. The last time Percy did this, he'd returned from bathing in the River Styx. Overnight. It scared Annabeth that time, and it scared her more now. His unpredictable stunts usually got worse each time, rather than lessen. 

It was a different kind of fear Annabeth felt when she realized Percy was truly and wholly gone this time. 

His mother and step-father were at just as much of a loss as the rest of Camp Halfblood. No one had a clue where he'd gone. The only thing Annabeth knew for certain was that he hadn't done this by choice. He wouldn't, not with the way things were. Some primordial being had taken him and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Somewhere between long nights and breakdowns at the lake, Annabeth often found herself in Cabin Three. 

At first, she would go to pray. To clasp her hands together and call on any god to give her some sort of a sign that he was okay. Even if he couldn't be there with her, she just needed to know that he was okay. For a few days, she only prayed to a select few of the Olympians--Percy's father, for example--but desperation began to take hold weeks in and Annabeth was forced to forget her pride. She appealed to even Aphrodite with her words, described her miseries to Nemesis--even Hera had received some prayers. 

There was no response. Annabeth never expected one, but a small part of her thought it might be different each time. He'd saved the world, hadn't he? Percy forgot and forgave too many times to count and he always fulfilled their desires. There had to be at least one god who recognized this, who recognized that, if anything, Percy was vital to Olympus. 

She never stopped praying. But after a while, Percy's cabin wasn't just the building she went to for privacy to plan her next move or beg on her knees. No, as time went by, Annabeth feared that she might forget him. She might forget the way he smiled or his scent or the specific tone his voice took on when he was about to make a particularly sarcastic remark. Her name from his lips, the saltiness of his kisses, and the gentle touch of his hands over hers. 

She'd never forget, of course. But there were only so many ways to feel close to Percy when he was gone. One of which was the ocean. The other, his cabin.

She slept there many nights. Not all of them. Sometimes she fell asleep at her desk or got caught up with her duties as counselor. But it was never rest that she found, folded atop an old scroll or laying in her own bed. In Cabin Three, she could imagine he was there. That the scent of the ocean was enveloping her due to his embrace. Some mornings, she woke with renewed vigor, promising herself that she would find him soon. Others, she woke alone, burdened by his absence. 

He hadn't meant much to her that day he'd roused in the Big House, bruised and confused. But Annabeth couldn't deny that she'd been falling in love with him ever since. 

Sally Jackson asked her if she thought he was alive. 

"Of course I do," Annabeth said. "I just have to find him."

Sally smiled. "Good. If you'd said otherwise I would've thought you were someone else."

Just like she had when Mount Saint Helens exploded and Percy was nowhere to be found, Sally believed. She always had faith in her son, even when he was twelve and barely knew what a sword was. Annabeth took a bite of her blue chocolate chip cookie, still warm from the oven, and promised herself that, for Sally, too, she'd find him. 

The Roman demigods arrived and Annabeth was a mess from failure after failure, but suddenly he'd be before her soon. Percy might not even remember her, but that hurt to think about. So she removed the thought from her mind and began preparations. 

For the world, she told herself. For the gods and the halfbloods and the camps. 

Annabeth was lying to herself. It was all for Percy.

He smiled at her like he'd only been gone for the weekend and kissed her when she threw him to the ground. When the world wasn't watching and the door latched behind them, he pulled her to him, held her, cradled her head against his chest (he was so tall) and promised her once more that he wouldn't go again, never again, and he was here to stay.

And he reached for her when she fell and he kept his promise, to never leave her again. Together, he said, always. 

They weren't the same, after the fall. After their second war and too many summers of suffering. But Percy was at breakfast every morning after and for the days he wasn't, Annabeth was promised lunch.  And she was promised dinners and mornings and rainy days and forever. Maybe because Percy Jackson's fatal flaw was loyalty, and he was oh-so-loyal to Annabeth Chase. 

But maybe didn't matter because his promise would last a lifetime and Annabeth didn't concern herself with the maybes anymore. She wouldn't go back to the nights in Cabin Three, unsure when he'd be there with her again. The moments when she pushed him away or begged him to let go over a chasm of her biggest fears. She stood on sure ground with Percy now, hand in hand, and there was nothing and no one -- not even the gods -- that could take that away. 

"Let's get married," he said.

"Okay," she said, easily, because it was exactly what she wanted at exactly the right time. They'd always been permanent. Ever since he stumbled over Camp's border, barely alive and caked with mud.

Annabeth was sure now.

Percy Jackson had come back to her, and she was never letting go. 

a/n

hello, it's me, updating consistently, where's grace and what have you done with her??

i wrote this one night a while ago. it is finally seeing the light of day! devour it you desperate fangirls/boys :D

does anyone have anything they'd like to see? requests? percabeth pre-dating, aus, tropes, anything? no promises if you have one, but i need some good ol inspiration >

i wanted to say a quick thank you to those of you still reading and those who are new. i appreciate you so much! thank you <3

- grace 💙🍪💙