Stucco hearts

Chapter 11

Annabeth has never liked the smell of hospitals. No matter how much disinfectant they use, the place still smells like overworked bodies and infection. She watches the sludge of coffee reminiscent to the consistency of tar fill her styrofoam cup and wonders if all hospitals have to buy crappy coffee machines to keep the urban myth going. Or perhaps it's to get people out of here and go home to their normal lives and their decent caffeinated drinks.

Annabeth sighs at her lot and starts the short walk back to Thalia's room. It's no longer a private room, but a shared one with three other patients; one of whom is sleeping when Annabeth walks in. The other two glance up at her but return to their respective forms of entertainment when they see she isn't a visitor for them.

Thalia's bed is next to the window and she is staring out of it, holding onto her bandaged wrist. She isn't aware of Annabeth's presence until she sits in the hard chair next to the bed and clears her throat.

'How're you feeling?' she asks, setting her coffee down on the table propped halfway over Thalia's knees.

Thalia rolls her eyes. 'Pissed off.'

Well that's standard.

'Stop scratching it,' Annabeth says, nodding at the fingers Thalia is prying under the bandages encasing her left wrist.

They haven't really talked about it, Annabeth knows that they should and they will, but there's whole can of worms to be opened between them when they finally broach that subject. And Annabeth wants to relish the peace between them for as long as she can; it's been a while since she's had Thalia to herself. Whenever she has been to visit there has been Jason and Piper and Leela to contend with, but now they are alone.

There are no buffers left.

'How long will you have them on for?' she asks Thalia, stalling.

Thalia tugs the sleeve of her sweater over the white bandages and tucks the material between her fingers and palm. 'As long as it takes,' she says, and sounds thoroughly miserable about it. 'I think they're gonna discharge me tomorrow though.'

'That's good.'

'I just don't get why I'm still here. It's been a week.'

'You tried to cut your timer off, Thalia,' Annabeth says quietly, but her words are heavy and they harden Thalia's expression as she receives them.

'We're jumping straight into it then, huh?'

Annabeth stares at her. 'Why?' she asks, desperate to know. 'Did it change?'

Thalia is shaking her head, expelling a harsh breath. 'It didn't change, but it's still counting down. And one day it's gonna say someone's name, and then what am I going to do?'

'So you thought cutting it off would fix things?

'No.... No, I- I don't know what I thought it would do.' She deflates a little. 'I just wanted it to stop.'

Annabeth leans forward and takes Thalia's hand between hers. 'How long do you have left?'

'It's still on eight years.'

Without really realising why, Annabeth breathes a sigh of relief. Perhaps because it gives her time - time to fix things, to keep Thalia from doing something like this again to avoid her fate, to help her heal.

'I didn't think you'd be relieved about that,' she says, her voice harder now. 'Figured you'd be encouraging me into my impending marriage now.'

And just like that, the air between them has shifted. Annabeth's hands slide away from Thalia's into her own lap again. She twists her wedding band around her finger and tries to figure out how she is going to broach this subject; explain how her views of the timers has changed and not changed so significantly.