Percy has been drowsing somewhere between awake and asleep for a while now. Will's fingers comb gently through his hair, Annabeth is rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades, and Jason's hand rests warmly on his calf—not moving, just there.

The touch was something that took a while to get used to, but once he figured it out—well, it's as good a way as any to reassure himself that the people he cares for are still there. Still okay. Still alive.

"Okay, so. I don't know about everyone else, but I'm really dying for an explanation," Leo's voice says. Percy can tell just from his tone that he's fidgeting with something and only half paying attention to his surroundings.

Will's hand stills in Percy's hair.

"Leo," Piper scolds.

"What?" Leo demands. "I don't mean it, like, as an insult or something. I'm not judging. I'm just curious."

Percy raises his head, blinking blearily. Guilt flashes on Leo's face when he catches sight of him, likely from waking him up—which is entirely misplaced, but he's not focusing on that right now.

He turns to look at Nico, sitting on Will's other side, studying his face. His expression is closed off, but not angry, more…uncertain.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, voice rough from sleep. "Because you don't have to. Don't feel obligated, if you're uncomfortable."

"There's really not a lot to it," Nico says. "I know you all think something big happened, but it was just—it really wasn't."

Reyna nods. She seems hesitant, but in the past few months, she's gotten a lot more comfortable opening up to them. "Neither of us had ever really made a deep connection with another person. Jason was the closest friend I ever had, before him, and by most standards, we were barely friends at all."

"Reyna—" Jason starts, looking apologetic, but she shakes her head.

"No, don't worry about it. I didn't make much of an effort to change that, especially as we got older and grew even further apart," she says. "But my point is just—Nico and I clicked fairly instantly. It wasn't like anything I'd felt before, and things got confused. Sound about right, Nico?"

"Yeah," Nico confirms. "Let's just—we're all pretty good friends now, right? If none of you had ever had that before, and you found it in a high pressure situation for the first time, would you maybe have been a bit confused about what you were feeling?"

"That's fair," Hazel murmurs.

"We found each other, and—well, we were something closer than what we'd ever known friends to be, and the world was ending and we might've both been dead in a few days. We didn't have time to sit down and sort through the confused tangle of our feelings to figure out what exactly they were," Nico explains.

"And when we did, after the fact, we realized that what we felt wasn't romantic," Reyna finishes. "It was just—really, really strong platonic love. Nico's gay, and I'm actually aromantic, which we both knew without a doubt once we sat down and devoted some time to figuring it out."

"That's it?" Leo asks.

"That's it," Reyna says.

"Huh."

Percy offers Nico a lopsided smile, and then pushes himself up, twisting as he does so that he ends up sitting in Annabeth's lap.

"Hello there," he says, as her hands go to his waist to steady him. "Come here often?"

She rolls her eyes and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Dork."

"Nerd."

He looks around, feeling more alert after his nap. Everyone's scattered across the lounge, in chairs or on the floor or crowded onto the couch, and they all look comfortable and content and relaxed.

He yawns, stretching his arms over his head. His left arm settles around Annabeth's shoulders when he brings it back down and continues to look around.

The Christmas tree is in the corner. There are boxes of decorations next to it, untouched, and the tree itself looks sad and bare, having waited for nearly two weeks already for them to all be together to decorate it.

"I'm making hot cocoa," he announces, and clambers carefully off of Annabeth's lap. "That tree looks horribly sad and neglected. We need to decorate it."

"What does that have to do with hot cocoa?" Leo asks.

Percy shrugs. "Tree decorating isn't complete without a warm drink, is it?"

The kitchen isn't far. He's comfortable, in fleece pajama pants and fuzzy socks that protect his feet from the chill of the bare floor.

Once he's there, he falls into a rhythm—the kitchen quickly became one of his calm places, when he was working on finding ways to relax himself. Kitchens have been happy for him for as long as he can remember, safe for him and his mother, a way for them to be together and talk without fear or worry.

He melts chocolate on the stove, adding milk and blending until the mixture is smooth. He adds a bit of cinnamon, just for flavor, and then turns off the burner, pulling mugs from the cabinet. Just as he's setting them on the counter, arms wrap around him from behind, and after a brief moment of surprised stiffness, he relaxes into them, recognizing who they belong to in half an instant.

"You made the real kind," Annabeth murmurs, words muffled by his shoulder, where her face is pressed.

"If there's ever an occasion for it, this is it," he replies, pressing a kiss to the top of her blonde curls. "Do we have a tray somewhere? Seems like a bad idea to try and carry all of these mugs by hand."

"Mmm," she hums. "Probably."

She presses a kiss to his shoulder, one hand sliding under his shirt and across his bare stomach. There's nothing sexual in the touch—her fingers trace his scars, and her other arm tightens around him. Her mind isn't on the cocoa.

"Hey," he says, voice soft. She hums again, and he twists in her grip so they're facing each other, his back pressed to the counter while the cocoa cools. "You okay?"

She smiles, gray eyes gleaming as she looks up at him. "Nothing's wrong. I've just been a little fixed on the past lately."

"A lot has changed," he acknowledges. "A lot is changing. It's bittersweet, right? You look around and you're happy, but you're a bit nostalgic, too, thinking about simpler years. Times when we didn't have so much weighing on us."

Annabeth presses her cheek against his chest, her curls tickling his chin, and he just holds her. "You're so much smarter than people like to give you credit for."

"Guess you've rubbed off on me," Percy teases, but she shakes her head, smiling again.

"Nah," she says. "You've always been smart. Now—you were asking about a tray?"

She goes about rummaging through the cabinets in search of one, and he busies himself with pouring the cocoa into the mugs and topping them each with whipped cream. He adds a cinnamon stick and extra cinnamon to Hazel's, because that's how she likes it, and chocolate shavings and mini marshmallows to Leo, Piper, and Jason's.

To his and Annabeth's he adds all of it, because why not?

"Aha!" Annabeth explains, pulling back from the cabinet she was looking in, holding a wooden tray aloft triumphantly. "Found it."

He smiles, and presses a kiss to her temple when she brings it over, quickly organizing the mugs onto the tray. "Thanks, love. You want yours?"

"Yes, please," she says, and takes her mug when he passes it to her, immediately taking a sip and closing her eyes in pleasure, savoring the taste. "You should make this more often."

"It wouldn't be as special if I did, would it?" he asks, smirking. She bumps his hip with hers on her way back to the lounge, and he follows, tray in hand.

The others are where they left them, apparently now engaged in an argument about which member of One Direction is doing the best for themselves since they all split.

"Hot chocolate, guys," Percy interrupts, setting the tray on a side table. "And it's Harry Styles, obviously."

"See!" Leo says, waving his hands so violently he nearly topples over backwards.

"It's Niall!" Piper insists.

"You're objectively wrong," Percy says. "And you're just saying that because you have a thing for blonds. They're all doing great—but one look at any video clips from Harry's concerts or interviews and you just know that he's living his best life."

Piper opens her mouth to argue, and then makes a face. "I hate when you get all reasonable. I'm just saying, though, Slow Hands? A jam."

"No one was arguing with that," Leo says.

Percy smiles at his friends, shaking his head, and takes his hot chocolate over to the bare tree in the corner, setting the mug on another convenient table to open the first box.

Surprisingly, it's the one with the lights and tinsel.

"Are we going for a cohesive aesthetic for the tree this year?" he calls. "Or are we just gonna have fun with it and hope that it doesn't look like a total mess?"

"The second one," Annabeth answers, coming to stand next to him. "Blue lights?"

"Obviously."

"Hmm. Silver ornaments?"

"I thought we weren't going for a particular aesthetic?"

"Bite me. I'm allowed to make suggestions."

The others join them, after collecting their own mugs from the tray, and they all start arguing over what ornaments should go on the tree. Percy and Nico exchange a look while Will and Annabeth bicker about silver versus gold, and shrug before starting to untangle a string of lights.

The arguments end when those participating realize the others have started decorating without them, and then they all just jump in, exchanging quips and jokes and laughter.

"The tinsel is crooked," Hazel notes.

Nico narrows his eyes at her—he's the one who put the tinsel on the tree. "The tinsel is always crooked."

"None of the ornaments match," Frank adds.

"It doesn't look bad," Annabeth offers.

"Of course it doesn't," Percy says. "It looks exactly like it was decorated by ten different people."

"What other activities have we neglected?" Jason asks. Piper nestles against his side, sipping the dregs of her hot chocolate.

"Baking?" Reyna suggests, shrugging.

"Christmas movies," Will adds.

"Sugar cookies?" Percy asks. "Or snickerdoodles?"

"Both," Leo says.

"Both," Frank agrees.

"To the kitchen it is, then," Percy says.

To the kitchen they all go.

…..

Christmas has never been an easy time of the year for Annabeth. She loves it—loves the decorations, the snow, the sweaters, and the food—but she always hated that she didn't have anyone to share it with.

It's different now. Easier. She can look around the kitchen—packed full of her family—and let any leftover weight fall from her shoulders.

They're a bit of a mess. There's flour everywhere, on counters and the floor and the people, and the aprons aren't really doing much to keep everyone's clothes clean.

Percy's wearing an absolutely ridiculous red apron that says 'I put out for Santa' with a picture of milk and cookies, and Annabeth snorts every time she sees it. The other aprons are a bit more tame—plain red, or candy cane striped, or with white ruffles. Leo's says 'Santa's Helper.' He's wearing an elf hat that jingles every time he moves. She has no idea where he found it.

They're good. It's good.

The kitchen is warm, with the oven on and all the people, but she can't bring herself to mind it. The whole room feels like a hug, especially with the smells of sugar and cinnamon in the air.

"What movie are we watching?" Annabeth asks, absentmindedly, as she measures out ingredients for puppy chow.

"Home Alone," Percy says immediately. He grins mischievously when she turns to look at him. "It was always my favorite."

"Ditto," Leo says. "That and Polar Express."

"Oh, that is a good one. I haven't seen that in ages," Piper says. She scoops some cookie dough out of the bowl with her fingers and sticks them in her mouth. Jason stares at her, aghast, and she giggles and wipes a streak of flour down his nose.

"We should watch both," Frank suggests. "We have the time."

"We should," Will says. "I don't think Nico's seen either. Hazel, have you?"

Hazel shakes her head. "No, I haven't."

"I've seen Polar Express once, but not Home Alone," Reyna says.

"Home Alone first then," Annabeth says. "How are the cookies?"

"We need a bigger oven," Percy grumbles.

Annabeth smiles and leans over to kiss his cheek.

Yeah. They're good.

….

The first move passes quickly. They gorge themselves on cookies and sweets and more hot chocolate. It gets dark. Reyna finds herself in a pile of blankets on the floor, between Nico and Jason. Percy and Annabeth are laying at everyone's feet. Hazel is on the couch, Frank curled up in bulldog form against her legs. Leo is sprawled out on a recliner.

They're all still awake, but only barely. The room feels full—there's plenty of room for more people, she doesn't mean it in the physical sense of things.

It feels—full. The warmth spreads out and hovers in the air like something tangible.

On the TV, the hot chocolate sequence from Polar Express is playing. They're not very far into it. They'll probably all be asleep by the time it's over. Some people would be up much later, trying to spend as much time doing things as possible, but that's not them.

They're okay just being together.

Reyna rolls until her back is pressed against Nico's, and pulls a blanket over them both. He and Will both might as well have already succumbed to sleep, as out of it as they are. Not surprising.

She kicks her leg forward until it tangles with Jason's, and he shifts to accommodate her.

What they all have together—well. It's family.

They're family.

Reyna smiles and closes her eyes. Morning will come. They'll celebrate Christmas together, and some of the others are supposed to visit as well, so they'll have a full house for sure.

The days until New Year's will pass slowly and quickly at the same time, and they'll make the most of them, knowing that this might be the last chance for them to all be together in one place for a while.

Morning will come. And so will the mornings after that.

They have all the time in the world.

….

Percy blinks his eyes open and watches the blurred lights of the tree come into focus in his bleary vision. There's a slight chill in the air, kept at bay by warm pajamas and thick blankets and Annabeth pressed against him.

He looks, and Annabeth is looking at him, gray eyes glittering.

"Merry Christmas," she whispers, to keep from waking the others.

"Merry Christmas," he murmurs. He kisses her, slow and sweet, and presses his brow against hers when their lips pull apart.

"Love you," she says.

"Love you," he replies. He would kiss the words into her bare skin—into every inch of her, if he could.

He doesn't. Not today. Maybe tomorrow.

For now—he's warm, and happy, and he can hear the soft breathing of his sleeping family all around him.

For now, all is well.

A/N: That's the end, folks. Originally, I wasn't planning on writing an ending at all...I lost my excitement for the fic. And it was hard to continue something so old when I've changed so much, both as a person and as a writer. But I went back a few days ago and looked and saw how many of you were still hanging on, even over a year later, and it made me remember why I wrote this in the first place.

Thanks, everyone. This is the last time I'll be posting here. Sometimes I write things on my tumblr, elithecryptid, and when I post new fics, it's on ao3. I don't do much pjo anymore, sadly, but maybe I will again in the future.

It's been a wild ride. Thanks for sticking by me.