( thinking less of annabeth ( for showing her humanity ) is not within percy’s capabilities. every story that has trickled out through whispered conversation or blatant confessions has only made him more proud, more convinced of her mettle. all demigods endure a crucible of some sort, that’s a given, but annabeth seems to him to have been dealt more than her share and she never lets it overpower her. she keeps going despite the challenges designed to cripple her. she’s afraid of spiders, the boundless grudge between athena and arachne that stands the test of time, completely irreversible and with no regard for who she is or what she’s done. percy gets it. annabeth prides herself on control and planning, and she can’t prepare for the chaotic and random appearance of being targeted by the whimsy of gods.

none of them can.

what he’s doing now isn’t anything she hasn’t done for him — bodily catching a dagger, searching the ends of the continental united states for him, keeping the upwelling of the vindictive depths of personal loyalty from emerging unchecked. he rules out a ton of legwork, trimming down the seconds, by making a beeline for the showerhead that’s spraying down water. first, he reaches for the dial and stops the flow. then, he starts looking around and viola, right there, trying to climb the wet tiles and slipping is the enemy. )

something’s always going to be working against you
that’s why i’m here

( time, adversaries, whatever else applies in this mortal realm. )

Look, it’s a classic case. It’s not you, it’s me. And I can’t let you leave this room alive, not after what you’ve seen here today. Classified information, pal. ( has to be done. a necessary conversation she can probably hear as he unlaces his shoe and thump. it's over. ) Sorry, not sorry.

( a moment of consideration as he tugs his shoe back on and kneels to lace it up. all sarcasm, no sincerity. )

any parting words?