Falling for You

Annabeth: II

Annabeth: II

Annabeth groaned and let her head fall into her arms.

They had about five more days until they got back to camp. She had been sat at her desk for a solid two of those days, searching her laptop for something, anything on Tartarus. She'd thought that she had lost her backpack and dagger, when the floor had collapsed when she was fighting Arachne, but apparently Jason had seen it hooked on a web and picked it up before it could fall. This was good, as only Daedalus' laptop could keep up with her fingers flying about the keyboard in search of answers. She'd researched myths, facts, eyewitness accounts that she could tell were fake but read anyway, until her back creaked with a locked strain that only ADHD hyper fixation could give her.

There had to be a way to help Percy.

A knock on her door had her blinking blearily at the outline of Piper as she came into the room. Her eyes burned at the sudden revelation that her lights were on. It must be night time. Piper walked over to where she was sat, worry on her angular face, and she placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, Annabeth. You know, it's getting pretty late. You need to eat." Piper said, firmly yet softly.

"No." Annabeth shook her head insistently, gesturing to the piles and piles of paper strewn across her table. "Not yet. Not until I find at least one thing we can use from all this."

Piper's face creased with concern.

"Have you been sleeping?" she asked, "You have bags under your eyes."

Annabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes, partly because she knew that if her eyes rolled upwards, she might pass out. "I've been sleeping when I need to." she said.

It was half a lie and half a truth.

"Let me guess," said Piper, too intuitive for her own good, "You haven't needed to?"

Annabeth didn't answer.

"I know you want to help him, but…" Piper started, and Annabeth knew exactly what she would say next. "Percy wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."

Annabeth looked at her friend; she knew she cared, and deep down below her desperation, she really appreciated it. She needed a friend like Piper more than she had realised. But just not right now. "Piper," she said, hating the plea in her voice, "If you're not going to help, then just please leave me alone."

She half expected Piper to walk out at that, not come back, maybe get angry at her, or snap at her. But she didn't. The daughter of Aphrodite took Annabeth's hand gently, cold from all the typing on her keyboard, and tugged her out of her seat. Her back was so scrunched and kinked, she couldn't help but sigh out loud as everything aligned back into place.

"No, Annabeth." Piper told her, looking immensely regretful, "You need to eat and then sleep. Remember?"

Annabeth dimly heard a faint melody caressing her eardrums. It whispered Piper's words to her softly, and though Annabeth felt a loud thought trying to burrow into her conscious, a reminder of… something (a warning, perhaps?), she ignored it instead. She found herself obediently nodding. It really hit her how much she needed to eat and then sleep all of a sudden. Why hadn't she done those things before? Quite silly of her not to. Eating and sleeping were essential.