Uncontrollable{COMPLETED}

Chapter 10

Annabeth woke up with a feeling of foreboding, still shaky and scared from last night. Percy worried her, and he took up permanent residence in her mind all day, distracting her. She worried about him constantly. She was so afraid. So afraid that one day, he'd finally snap and then he'd be gone forever. She knew he was angry at himself. She could feel it, in her heart. But surely he'd be okay. He'd pull through, like he always did. Surely he'd be fine.

That morning was a blur. Before she knew it, she was sitting in the pavilion, unable to eat, too consumed by the sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was about to go terribly wrong. Her worry wasn't helped by the fact that she hadn't seen Percy yet. He wasn't at breakfast, and when she walked by, the windows of the gray Poseidon cabin were dark. A knot grew bigger and bigger in her stomach as the hours went on. To make matters worse, she was expected to go about the  day as normal, and to make matters even worse,  Chiron had asked her to teach a newly recruited demigod some Ancient Greek, and her heart panged considerably painfully. However, she agreed, and feelings of nostalgia and heartbreak accompanied her through the lesson. The poor kid looked confused and scared at her attitude, and when she started to cry, he got up slowly and then speed-walked away. It had been too much; it reminded her of when she had first met Percy. The confusion, fear, awe, and gangly twelve-year-old awkwardness was all too much like Percy had been on that first day. She had immediately started crushing on him, but she tried to cover it up with a shield of irritation at him. As her feelings for him grew stronger, she knew she had to abandon the act.
Wiping away tears, she got up and went back to her cabin. She barely registered the warm weather and sunny sky. It all seemed gray to her.

She entered her cabin with a feeling of relief. There were about five of her step-siblings hunched over desks; the beds had long since been pushed to the walls and curtains drawn. Annabeth didn't know or care what they were working on, but she threw herself into the reassuring world of blueprints and numbers with gratitude. 

~~~

Rolling her neck and massaging her aching shoulders, Annabeth looked out the window and cursed in Ancient Greek. They had worked straight through lunch, and Annabeth was starving and achy and worried. The worry had disappeared for those blissful hours, but now it had come crashing back into her mind. 

"Hey guys, we should probably take a break," Annabeth told her siblings. They all looked up blearily and blinked in surprise. 

"Wow, you're probably right. We've worked for a long time," one said, and they launched into a discussion about what they'd been working on, and Annabeth didn't even bother to try and follow it. She had already forgotten what they'd been working on. Annabeth stepped outside into the warm air and wandered around the cabins. A lot of the minor gods and goddesses' cabins still were in the process of being built. As she passed the Hephaestus cabin, she didn't hear the usual clanking noises that signaled that the kids were hard at work. Ever since Leo had died, the so-called curse of the Hephaestus cabin had returned. They moped around with red eyes and their usually busy hands were still. Leo had saved them, and now he was gone. Annabeth turned away from the cabin, her eyesight blurry. Great, she thought, I'm crying again. Annabeth needed to get her mind of off Percy. She was sure he was fine. She wandered down to the volleyball courts and played a game, effectively sabotaging it. She was too distracted to focus on the game, causing her team to lose badly. She couldn't take it anymore. She ran down to the Poseidon cabin, turning the door handle. She stopped short. It was locked. Her mouth gaping in disbelief, she tried the handle again. It was definitely locked. But it's never locked, she thought in surprise. She banged on the door. After five minutes she was stuck with no answer, ballooning worry, and aching fists. She could only think of one person to talk to.