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Annabeth’s duffel bag thumped against her leg as she crossed the Camp Half‑Blood border, the morning sun catching in her curls. Percy walked beside her, hands in his pockets, pretending he wasn’t watching her every two seconds.
“You packed half the library that the Athena cabin has,” he said, bumping her shoulder.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she replied, but her smile was soft.
Percy laughed. “We both know there’s a library at New Rome University, right?”
Annabeth snorted. “How would you know, Seaweed Brain? It’s not like you’ve been at any library, ever.”
He rolled his eyes and reached for her bag — she let him, even though she didn’t need the help. Percy always carried her bag when she left camp. Annabeth never minded, even if she was independent.
At the van, he hesitated.
Annabeth did too.
“You’re only staying a few more days,” she reminded him, trying to sound breezy. “I’ll see you at Camp Jupiter before you know it.”
Percy nodded, but his eyes were warm and a little sad. “Yeah. And then we’re watching Star Wars. First time ever. I’m still offended you’ve gone your whole life without it. It’s so amazing, you know. I even based my new swordfighting techniques off of Anakin’s.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was busy saving the world.”
“Not an excuse,” he said, grinning.
She rose on her toes and kissed him, hard.
“Don’t watch it without me, Wise Girl.” he murmured against her forehead.
“I won’t,” she promised. “Seaweed Brain.”
He laughed, and she carried that sound with her as she climbed into the van. She would love him til the ends of the earth, she thought.
Camp Half‑Blood felt different without Annabeth — it always did.
Percy spent the morning repairing the canoe lake dock with some of the younger campers, who kept asking him questions like:
“Is Annabeth really designing buildings for Romans?”
“Are you gonna marry her?”
“Can you teach me how to do that sword disarming thing again?”
He answered all of them with the same fond smile.
When he took a break, he checked his phone.
Thank the gods for Leo Valdez and his siblings, or he wouldn’t have this.
There wasn’t a message yet. She was probably still on the flight.
But he typed out a quick text anyway:
Seaweed Brain 2:10 PM
i made it through the morning without you
miss u <3
Wise Girl 6:13 PM
You’ll survive. Probably.
I miss you too, love.
Percy looked up from his phone. He grinned like an idiot. Annabeth usually had that affect on him.
That night, Annabeth called him from her dorm at Camp Jupiter. Percy answered on the first ring.
“Hey,” he said, voice warm and sleepy.
“Hey,” she echoed, sinking onto her bed. “How was your day?”
He told her about the dock, about the campers, about how he’d almost fallen in the lake because someone startled him with a rubber snake.
She laughed — a real, bright laugh — and Percy felt his chest loosen.
Then she talked about her architecture program, her voice lighting up as she described the project they were starting. Percy didn’t understand half the terminology, but he listened because every word mattered. Not because he liked architecture, but because it was Annabeth speaking those words, and she liked it and was so passionate about it. It was one of the things Percy loved most about her — her passion and dedication for something she believed in.
“You’d like it here,” she said softly. “The buildings are… well, they’re not Greek, but they’re beautiful.”
“I’ll be there soon,” he promised. “And then we’re watching Star Wars.”
She smiled at the screen. “I’m holding you to that.”
They talked until Percy’s eyes drooped and Annabeth got too sleepy in her bed.
Neither wanted to hang up first.
When they finally did, Annabeth whispered into the dark, “Goodnight, Percy,” even though the call had already ended.
And Percy, staring at the ceiling of his cabin, whispered back, “Goodnight, Wise Girl.”
Percy woke up with a headache that felt terrible. He blinked at the ceiling of his cabin, groaned, and immediately told himself it was nothing.
He sat up too fast and the world tilted, but he steadied himself with a hand on the bedpost.
“Okay,” he muttered. “Maybe drink some water.”
He did. It helped a little. Enough that he convinced himself he was fine.
He spent the morning helping a group of younger campers repaint the climbing wall. Every time he bent down to dip the brush, his vision fuzzed at the edges, but he pushed through it. He didn’t want to worry Annabeth. She had enough on her plate.
When his phone buzzed with a text from her —
Wise Girl 1:14 PM
How’s my favorite Seaweed Brain?
Percy smiled, despite the throb in his head. Even a small text from her immediately made him feel better.
Seaweed Brain 1:15 PM
still alive lmao
dock looks good, we got a freshly painted climbing wall too
miss u
That night, Annabeth called him. Percy was laying in his cabin, exhausted, and feeling generally horrible.
He answered on the third ring.
“Hey, Wise Girl,” he said, voice warm but a little rough.
“You sound tired.” Annabeth said, sounding concerned.
“Long day,” he said, leaning back against his pillow. “The climbing wall is now a beautiful shade of ‘I let twelve-year-olds pick the paint.’”
She laughed, but she still sounded worried. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Percy hesitated. He knew that Annabeth could tell something was wrong. It was one of those things he loved about her most. She had this ability to empathize with him, but also clock whenever something was wrong, and was always there for him to talk to. This time, though, Percy could handle it himself.
“Yeah. Just worn out. I’ll be better tomorrow.”
Annabeth didn’t push. “Promise you’ll rest?” she asked softly.
Percy smiled, even though she couldn’t see it. “Promise.”
And he meant it.
He just didn’t realize how much rest he actually needed.
The next evening, Annabeth waited for Percy’s call.
She finished her project notes.
She organized her desk.
Still no call.
She checked her phone again.
Nothing.
Annabeth tried to be rational. Maybe he fell asleep early. Maybe he was helping someone. Maybe his phone died.
But Percy never forgot to call her.
Not once.
She finally dialed him.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
No answer.
Her stomach twisted.
She tried again.
Straight to voicemail this time.
Annabeth sat on the edge of her bed, fingers curled tight around her phone, heart beating too fast.
“Percy,” she whispered into the quiet room, “where are you?”
She didn’t sleep much that night.
Percy groaned as he woke up with the sun peeking in through the curtains. His throat felt raw, his skin too warm, his head pounding.
He rolled over and grabbed his phone, and the screen lit up with missed calls.
Annabeth (3)
Annabeth (1)
Annabeth (1)
“Oh, no.” Percy whispered. He’d fallen asleep early that evening. He hadn’t meant to — and he’d completely missed dinner, but Annabeth…
She was probably worried out of her mind.
He pressed call immediately, hoping she wasn’t too scared.
She answered on the first ring.
“Percy?” Her voice was tight, like she’d been holding her breath for hours.
“Hey,” he said, trying to sound normal. His throat protested, but he cleared it quietly. “Sorry about last night. I… kinda crashed.”
Annabeth exhaled shakily. “I was worried. You never miss our calls.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to freak you out.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the pressure building behind his eyes. “I’m okay. Just tired.”
“You said that yesterday,” she said softly.
Percy winced — not because she was wrong, but because she was right. “Yeah, well… I guess I’m really tired.”
Annabeth didn’t speak for a moment. He could picture her frowning, chewing the inside of her cheek, trying not to push too hard.
“Percy,” she said finally, “you sound sick.”
“I’m fine,” he said automatically — then corrected himself, because he didn’t want to lie. “Okay, maybe not fine. But it’s nothing big. Just a cold or something.”
“Have you eaten?”
“…I had a granola bar.”
“Percy.”
“I’ll eat more later,” he promised. “I swear. I’m just tired.”
Annabeth sighed. She wasn’t annoyed, Percy knew, just caring. “I wish I was there.”
He closed his eyes. “Me too.”
They stayed on the phone until Annabeth’s voice softened and Percy’s started to fade.
By midday, Percy felt like he was underwater — not the good kind, not the calm, weightless kind. The heavy, muffled, can’t-breathe kind.
He tried to help the newly-arrived Nico and some younger campers move equipment near the arena, but halfway across the field, his knees buckled. Nico caught his arm before he hit the ground.
“Dude,” Nico said, eyes wide, “you’re burning up.”
Percy tried to laugh it off. “Guess I overdid it.”
“You think?” Nico deadpanned. “You’re going to the infirmary.”
“I’m fine—”
“You’re going,” Nico repeated, already hauling him upright. “Don’t make me shadow‑travel you there.”
Percy didn’t have the strength to argue.
By the time they reached the infirmary, Percy was shivering and sweating at the same time. Will Solace took one look at him and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a curse.
“Bed. Now,” Will ordered.
Percy didn’t protest. He barely made it onto the cot before the world tilted sideways.
Will pressed a cool hand to his forehead. “You should’ve come in yesterday.”
Percy mumbled, “Didn’t want to worry Annabeth.”
Will snorted. “Yeah, well, too late.”
Percy woke up hours later, throat dry, head pounding, body heavy with fever. The infirmary lights were dim, and the world felt fuzzy around the edges.
His phone buzzed weakly on the table beside him.
Annabeth.
He reached for it with clumsy fingers and hit call.
She answered instantly.
“Percy? Percy, are you okay?”
Her voice cracked on the last word.
He swallowed, wincing. “Hey, Wise Girl.”
“Oh gods,” she breathed. “You sound awful.”
Percy huffed a tiny laugh. “Thanks. Great pep talk.”
“Percy.”
He closed his eyes, letting the sound of her voice wash over him. “I’m okay. Will’s got me. Just… fever. And stuff.”
“You should’ve told me,” she whispered.
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I worry because I love you,” she said, voice trembling but steady. “That’s how this works.”
“I love you too,” he murmured. “So much.”
There was a rustle on her end, like she was curling into her blankets. “I wish I could be there.”
“Me too,” he whispered. “But hearing you… it helps. It helps a lot.”
“Do you want me to come back to Camp?” Annabeth asked.
Percy paused. “I.. no, it’s okay. This architecture thing is a big deal, Wise Girl. You should stay. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure,” Percy said, though he really was not sure at all.
Annabeth’s breath hitched. “I’m not hanging up. Not until you fall asleep.”
Percy smiled, eyes already drooping. “Okay.”
He drifted off to the sound of her voice telling him about her day, about the project she was working on, about how she couldn’t wait for him to get there so they could finally watch Star Wars together.
He fell asleep smiling.
Annabeth didn’t sleep much after Percy’s fever‑heavy call.
She kept replaying the sound of his voice — rough, exhausted, too soft around the edges. She’d heard Percy tired before. She’d heard him injured, scared, breathless, laughing, teasing.
But she’d never heard him like that.
Not Percy Jackson, who could joke through a broken rib.
She tried to focus on her architecture project the next morning, but her pencil kept slipping. Her lines were crooked. Her measurements were off. She reread the same paragraph of her notes five times.
Her phone sat beside her like a live wire.
Every time it buzzed — a group chat, a reminder, a weather alert — her heart jumped.
But none of them were Percy.
She finally gave up pretending she could work and stepped outside, pacing the stone courtyard of Camp Jupiter, arms wrapped around herself.
She whispered into the quiet air, “Please be okay.”
Annabeth packed fast.
Too fast.
Her hands moved on instinct — shoving notebooks, her laptop, her hoodie, her toothbrush into her bag. She didn’t care about neatness. She didn’t care about the internship. She didn’t care about anything except getting to Percy.
Her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to break out of her chest.
She zipped the bag, slung it over her shoulder, and headed for the door.
Hazel and Frank followed her, exchanging worried glances.
“Annabeth,” Hazel said gently, “are you sure—”
“Yes,” Annabeth said, voice sharp with fear she couldn’t hide. “I need to go. I can’t stay here while he’s—while he’s like that.”
Frank stepped in front of her, not blocking her path, just… slowing it. “We get it. We do. But maybe just… breathe for a second.”
“I don’t have a second,” Annabeth snapped — then immediately winced. “Sorry. I just—he sounded so sick. And he didn’t call today. And I can’t stop thinking about him lying there alone.”
Hazel touched her arm. “He’s not alone. Will’s with him. Nico’s checking in. Everyone at Camp Half‑Blood loves him.”
Annabeth’s throat tightened. “I know. But I’m supposed to be there too.”
Hazel hesitated, then said softly, “Your mentor left a message. The project review got moved to tomorrow morning. Mandatory.”
Annabeth froze.
Her stomach dropped.
Of course it did. Of course the universe would pick today to throw something in her way.
Frank added, “And… there’s a storm rolling in. The pegasi aren’t flying out until it clears.”
Annabeth closed her eyes.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to run anyway.
She wanted Percy.
Hazel squeezed her hand. “Annabeth… he’d want you to stay safe. And he’d want you to finish what you came here to do.”
Annabeth’s breath shook. “I know.”
“And,” Hazel continued gently, “he’s stable. Will said his fever’s down a little. He’s sleeping. He’s okay for now.”
Annabeth pressed her hands to her face, trying to steady herself. “I just… I hate being far from him.”
Frank’s voice was soft. “That’s because you love him.”
Annabeth let out a tiny, broken laugh. “Yeah. I do.”
Hazel smiled. “And he loves you. Enough that if he knew you were about to run across the country in the middle of a storm, he’d drag himself out of that infirmary bed to stop you.”
Annabeth let out another watery laugh. “He would.”
She sank onto the edge of her bed, her packed bag still slung over her shoulder.
Hazel sat beside her. “You tried. You were ready to go. That matters.”
Annabeth nodded slowly.
She whispered, voice barely audible, “I’ll see him soon.”
Hazel squeezed her hand. “You will.”
Percy woke slowly, like surfacing from deep water.
The fever had broken sometime in the night. His head still ached, but the world felt clearer, less foggy, less heavy.
Will Solace was sitting beside the bed, flipping through a chart.
“You’re awake,” Will said, relieved. “Good. I was starting to think I’d have to pour cold water on you.”
Percy groaned. “Please don’t.”
Will smirked. “Then don’t scare us like that again.”
Percy tried to sit up. “Annabeth—did she call?”
Will hesitated. “She tried to come.”
Percy froze.
“What?”
“She packed. She was ready to leave Camp Jupiter in the middle of a storm. Hazel talked her down.”
Percy’s heart clenched — painfully, beautifully.
“She tried to come,” he repeated, voice soft.
Will nodded. “She was terrified for you. But it wasn’t worth the risk — she could’ve died from the storm. Neeks thinks ol’ Z’s the reason for the storm, but that doesn’t really matter.”
Percy leaned back against the pillows, breath shaky.
Annabeth.
His Annabeth.
Trying to cross the country for him.
He whispered, “I need to go to her.”
Will blinked. “Percy, you just got over a fever—”
“I’m going,” Percy said, voice steady. “As soon as I can stand without falling over. I don’t care how sick I am.”
Will sighed. “I knew you’d say that.”
But he didn’t stop him.
Because everyone knew:
Percy Jackson loved Annabeth Chase with his whole heart.
It took another day before Will cleared him to leave — reluctantly, with a list of instructions Percy absolutely did not plan to follow.
Percy still felt a little shaky, the kind of unsteady that made the world tilt if he stood too fast. His throat was raw, his muscles ached, and every breath felt like it had to fight its way out of his chest. But he didn’t care.
He packed lightly: a hoodie, a water bottle, and the laptop they’d planned to watch Star Wars on.
He had to stop twice to catch his breath while zipping the bag.
The trip felt longer than it should have.
Every mile made him more impatient.
Every hour made him miss her more.
Every cough reminded him he probably shouldn’t be traveling yet — but he kept going anyway.
When he finally reached Camp Jupiter, the sun was dipping low, turning the sky gold. His legs trembled when he slid off Blackjack’s back.
Good luck, boss, Blackjack said, giving him a look that clearly meant please don’t pass out before flying away.
Percy steadied himself, took one slow breath, and walked through the gates, ignoring the curious looks from legionnaires. He only cared about one person.
Hazel spotted him first.
Her eyes widened. “Percy? You look—”
He smiled, tired, his throat still sore, but bright. “Hey, Haze.”
Hazel’s expression softened instantly. “She’s in her dorm,” she said, already grinning. “Go.”
Percy didn’t need to be told twice.
Even if his legs wobbled a little as he started toward her.
Annabeth was sitting at her desk, hair pulled into a messy bun, staring at her notes without seeing them.
She looked exhausted, and worried.
Percy knocked softly on the doorframe.
“Hey, Wise Girl.”
Annabeth’s head snapped up.
She was out of her chair and across the room in a heartbeat.
“Percy,” she whispered, crashing into him, arms around his neck, holding him like she never wanted to let go. “You’re-you’re here.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. “I’m okay,” he murmured. “I’m here.”
She pulled back just enough to cup his face, grey eyes shining. “You scared me.”
“I know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”
“You should’ve told me you were that sick.”
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“I worry because I love you,” she said, voice trembling.
Percy smiled, full of everything he felt. “I love you too. And I heard you tried to come to me.”
Annabeth flushed. “I—yeah. I did.”
“So,” Percy said, brushing his thumb along her cheek, “I came to you.”
Her breath hitched.
“You’re ridiculous,” she whispered.
“You love it.”
She kissed him, full of all the fear and longing and love she’d been carrying.
Percy loved her, this girl he’d met so long ago, and he knew he would never stop loving her until the end of time.
When they finally pulled apart, Percy lifted the laptop he’d brought.
“So,” he said, grinning, “you ready to finally watch Star Wars with me?”
Annabeth laughed — a real, bright, heart‑full laugh — and tugged him toward her bed.
“Only if you stay right here,” she said, curling into his side.
“Not going anywhere,” Percy promised, kissing the top of her head.
And they watched the iconic opening together, wrapped in a blanket, wrapped in each other, wrapped in the kind of love that crossed any distance.