It's been a while since I've updated, but I've received a bit of constructive criticism that I've tried to improve my writing with. Yes, I realized Annabeth's stepmother's name is Helen and not Jia (idk how I missed that). Sorry for taking so long, but I hope it was worth the wait. I started this so long ago, so the plot itself isn't too salvageable, but I'm sure it's fine. More to come!

For the first time in several weeks, I had a nightmare.

It was the kind of nightmare that seeps into your skin while you sleep. It was the kind that made old, sour memories resurface and warped them almost beyond recognition and shoved them back at you, but when you woke up, all you remembered was flashes of color and fear.

The war wasn't too long ago; I could still smell the stench of monsters and flesh, still remember the terror as though it was still happening.

Perhaps the gods were feeling merciful, because the dreams didn't last long. However, it took several moments to pull myself away. When I opened my eyes, I was sitting upright in the hide-a-bed, breathing heavily. It took me a minute to catch my breath and realize it was all just a dream.

"Perce?"

I rubbed my blurry eyes and looked over the back of the couch in the direction of Annabeth's room.

Annabeth was leaning hesitantly out of the doorframe, squinting in my direction. Her hair was a gorgeous bed-head mess and her pajamas were askew, as if she'd just crawled out of bed and wasn't even fully awake standing there.

"It's nothing," I mumbled, still being mostly asleep, too. I flopped back down, pulling the blankets tighter to my shoulders. "Nightmares…"

Although my eyes were closed and I didn't see Annabeth, I heard her shuffling around the couch, and the bed shifted as she crawled up into it next to me. She curled up against my back and was asleep within seconds. I wondered if she was ever even awake to begin with, but before I could ponder that too long sleep had me in its clutches again as well.

The next time I opened my eyes the room was full of music and noisy children.

Annabeth, who was propped up against my back, leaned over me backwards to look at my face. "He's alive," she said jokingly.

"'Morning," I grunted back.
"Almost afternoon, actually." She patted my arm and closed the book she was reading. "We've all been up for hours. You missed a lot."

Taking a better look around, the living room appeared to have been hit by a bomb of paper crafts. There were paper chains strung from every surface to every surface, and cut "snowflakes" were taped to the windows.

"We learned how to make these at school," one of the boys (Matthew, I think) held up a snowflake he just cut and taped it to the TV screen.

"Yeah!" Bobby agreed enthusiastically, holding up a stack of paper for me to see. "Dad said we couldn't use his special blue paper, but he gave us all of this to use. Here—" He set a few sheets on the blankets next to me and set a pair of safety scissors on top of them. "They're pretty hard to make, but I'm sure you can figure it out."

I hadn't even completely woken up yet and was already given something to do. Annabeth's face told me to go along with it. She had already made several perfect snowflakes, and was using one of them as a bookmark for the book she had been reading.

Through the window across from my couch, I could see that the sky was a deep overcast grey, a sign that it might snow. It was hard to tell where the sun was behind the clouds, but it must have been nearly noon.

"It's past eleven," Annabeth confirmed, as if she had read my thoughts. "Dad is working on some of his important paperwork upstairs this morning, and Helen is out." One of the boys stuck a paper snowflake to her hair and she pulled it out patiently. "We're left babysitting for a bit."

"And the roster for today?" I asked, swinging my lefts over the edge of the hide-a-bed.

"Gingerbread houses," Bobby answered, sweeping a pile of paper clippings onto the floor. "Each of us make one every year."

"Last year I made a ninja lair," Matthew shared. "It was the best house."

Ninja lairs? I could only imagine what messes these kids could stir up making gingerbread houses, especially with all that sugar in their systems. Sometimes it was hard imagining they were related to Annabeth, but they were good kids.

Before I could say anything else, Annabeth stood up off the couch and stretched. She had changed out of her PJs into jeans and a pullover, hair tucked away from her face with a clip. She made no mention of the night before, when she had crawled into bed with me. Neither of the boys mentioned it either, so I'm guessing she was the first one awake. As usual.

"I'm going to make lunch." After setting her book on the edge of the TV stand, Annabeth adjusted her bun and turned towards the kitchen. "You boys should get dressed. We have to go back to the mall today and I don't want to look like a bad guardian for letting you look like street rats."

It would have been nice if she hadn't been addressing me as well, but there was an amused glint in her expression when she glanced backwards that told me I was included.

"Why do we have to go back?" I had to ask. "I thought we finished all of the shopping yesterday."

Judging by her sour expression, Annabeth wasn't entirely happy about the decision. "We forgot gingerbread."

"Ah." Of course we did. The one thing her crazy stepmother wanted us to get and we forgot it.

It didn't take long to change my clothes and comb my hair back. When I was finished, everyone else was already in the kitchen. Matthew had on a backwards superhero shirt, and Annabeth was serving sandwiches.

As silly as it was for me to notice, the first thing that came into my mind when I saw her was that she would make a good mother. Despite her straightforward attitude, there was a softness in her actions. She may never admit it, of course, but it was interesting to observe.

I wondered how Annabeth would feel about having children, but the thought left quickly. We were still so young, and I honestly couldn't see past finishing school anyways. We still had so much growing up to do, but one thing was for sure.

I knew I wanted to grow up with her.

The mall was crowded, even more so than a few days ago. Everyone was trying to get their last-minute shopping done, and in New York that meant death by being trampled.

Annabeth, Bobby, Matthew and I formed a chain by holding onto one another's hands, but navigating was like trying to walk in a blizzard. Any store we went into was packed with people shouting and scrambling for the last box on the shelf.

Luckily, most everyone during the holidays would rather by pre-made kits for gingerbread houses, so we managed to find the ingredients without being suffocated or separated.

The twin's patience was wearing very thin, and at times I wished that we had left them at home. Annabeth reminded me that their dad was clear in us having to do this ourselves. Important paperwork was priority, I guess.

"Annabeth I want a pair of bouncy shoes," Bobby asked, pointing to a large billboard above a novelty store. "I saw them on TV. I can bounce up to ten feet high!"

"That's fake, Bobby," Annabeth sighed, tugging them away. "They only said that to get people to buy them."

"I want some, too!" Matthew jumped up and down, ignoring what his half-sister just said.

Annabeth gave me a look like, I'd rather be in Hades.

"Look guys," I nudged them, distracting from the shoes. "It's Santa!"

On the other end of the hall, a line of forty parents and children were waiting to sit on the mall Santa's lap. Of course, I really didn't want to stand in line for two hours, but it was something to distract the twins from bouncy shoes.

"We don't believe in Santa anymore," Matthew told me, scowling. "That's for babies."

Bobby agreed, pausing for a moment to wipe his runny nose on the sleeve of his jacket. "And even if he was real, he would already know what we want for Christmas. We've sent him like four letters."

Thank the gods, I thought. Even if they're a couple of smart-aleks, at least we didn't have to stand in line.

The four of us began making our way slowly to the entrance of the mall where we entered, bags in hand. Annabeth and I struggled to keep the boys from breaking away and scattering; every store distracted them as we passed.

"I want a Spiderman mask for Christmas," Bobby was telling his twin. "That way I can scare Annabeth when she's sleeping."

Annabeth rolled her eyes.

They kept arguing back and forth about what they wanted and what they thought Christmas morning was going to look like. We must have been in the mall for two hours, trying to make our way through this chaos.

Close to the exit, we decided to stop at a frozen yogurt store for a snack to appease the kids. Our parfaits covered in festive green and red sprinkles and tasted like mall food, but they were fine.

While we sat and ate, Annabeth took that moment of reprieve to sit by me.

"Are you doing okay?" she asked, not taking her eyes of the twins eating across from us.

"I'm fine," I answered. "Crowded malls make me nervous. There are so many people in here, I'm worried they smell like a buffet to hungry monsters."

"Monsters leave humans alone, for the most part," she reminded me. A piece of her hair fell into her eyes and she brushed it away. "I know what you mean, though. It's hard to be comfortable in a place like this."

We sat for a minute, drinking our drinks and watching the twins make a mess of their yogurt.

"Hey, Annabeth."

She looked over, sucking a sprinkle off her thumb. Gods of Olympus, she was beautiful.

"What do you want for Christmas?"

Annabeth frowned, tilting her head in a cute way. "You've asked me that already. Several times." Her eyes twinkled with curiosity. "Would my answer be any different today?"

"Yeah, but I'm serious." I picked at the corner of my napkin. "If you could have anything this Christmas, anything at all, what would it be?"

Across from us, Bobby and Matthew were getting restless, the sugar starting to kick in. They squirmed in their seats, talking faster and louder to one another.

The girl next to be rested her chin on her hand. "Anything?"

"Anything."

Matthew was kicking his legs wildly under the table, and managed to kick his brother, who let out a yell. They began roughhousing, kicking and hitting one another until the other customers in the cafe were looking at us.

Annabeth stood to break the argument up, but before leaving my side, she turned and kissed me.

Her lips lingered, brushing at the base of my ear. "I think I can leave that up to you." She got up and began tending to her brothers, leaving me speechless and red.

Poseidon help me, I'm in love.

Back at the Chase's home, Mrs. And Professor Chase were both downstairs cleaning when we returned.

Helen was vacuuming up shreds of paper that the twins had scattered from making snowflakes, and Annabeth's dad was swapping the bedding on the hide-a-bed for clean linen.

"We're back," Annabeth announced, dropping the keys on the stand next to the door and taking her coat off. "Shoes," she told the boys, and they reluctantly shed their winter gear before tracking snow in.

Helen barely looked up. "Did you get the gingerbread?"

"No, we nearly got trampled at the mall for fun."

When she looked up, Mrs. Chase's eyes were cold.

"Of course we did." After hanging her scarf up, Annabeth helped me untie mine. "That's the last time I want to go out before Christmas, though. It's too wild outside."

Bobby and Matthew, after ditching their outwear, ran art their parents to their room, but not before shouting, "We almost died!"

For half an hour, Annabeth and I helped tidy up around the house. Although we didn't talk to each other much, I kept thinking about what she had said to me in the yogurt shop. Even thinking about it elbows-deep in a sink full of dirty dishes made me turn red. I may or may not have been reading into it correctly, but if she meant what I think she meant, it made me even more nervous. More nervous than any monsters ever had.

"I have a few more for you."

Annabeth appeared next to me, dumping the twin's water cups from their bedroom into the sink. When she noticed my expression, I half expected her to read my mind as she usually did and comment on my thoughts. However, she only sighed in content and began helping me.

"I'm having fun, Perce," she said, drying a bowl and setting it on the dish rack. "I'm glad we were able to do this."

"I'm glad, too."

Usually, the holidays weren't really my thing. Traditions were fun, but as a demigod, I didn't get too much into the spirit of things. I only really enjoyed the winter months because my mom did. She always said that it was the one time of year when people were nice to one another, but she obviously hadn't been to a mall the week before Christmas. Ever since her and Poseidon spent a winter together the year before I was born, it always seemed magical to her after that.

I guess I didn't understand until spending time with Annabeth this last week.

It was almost as if snow softened the edges of this crazy girl. Every moment I look at her, I couldn't image her looking any more beautiful, but the holidays kept proving me wrong.

I loved how she glowed golden in the light of the fireplace, lost in thought staring into the flames. I loved the way the lights around the tree freckled her with a rainbow of colors, seeming to dance across her skin. I loved kissing her outside, when her face was red with the winter chill. The way she would grin at me, pull her blond curls back into a messy bun, rest her feet on me when we were on the couch, stick her hand in my back pocket as we walked together—I will never forget it.

I'll never forget the way she makes me feel.

"What's your favorite holiday memory?" Annabeth placed the last drying dish out of the way and wiped her hands off on the front of her shirt. "Before or after you came to camp."

I thought for a moment, turning to lean with my back against the counter. "I haven't had too many memorable holidays. Unless you count bad ones." There had been many bad ones I remembered. "Mom once tried to dye out entire Christmas duck blue, but somehow it ended up exploding in the oven. We ended up eating Chinese take-out that night."

Annabeth smiled, the edges of her eyes crinkled charmingly. "That sounds like your mom."

"What about you?"

"Easy. This is by far the best winter I've had."

Of course. That shouldn't surprise me.

I put my arms around her waist and pulled her against me. Someone could walk in at any moment, but I just wanted a little break from cleaning.

Annabeth didn't object. Her hair tickled my nose when I breathed in, and I tried not to sneeze. She was so warm and soft against me. If I hadn't grown up with her, it would've been hard imagining that this was the same girl who hated me for so long, who could dismember a monster with nothing but a paperclip and a stick of gum. Even still, I could feel some of her scars through her shirt.

The gash from the poisoned dagger during our last fight stood raised on her shoulder. I'll always feel guilt over that, even though she made a complete recovery.

When I touched that scar, she pulled away and put her hands on either side of my face. Her pinkies skimmed under my jaw, and I was sure that she could feel my heart speeding up against her touch.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs grew louder by the second, but I took the last moment of peace we had together to kiss her.

I felt her eyelashes tickle my cheek as she leaned into it, still holding my face. Her hands smelled a little like glass cleaner, but it was okay.

"…lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you..." Professor Chase sang as he strutted obliviously into the kitchen. "Our cheeks are nice and—Annabeth!"

We pulled apart when he burst in, but it didn't stop Annabeth's dad from sputtering with embarrassment from walking in on our embrace.

"Sorry to interrupt," he apologized, avoiding eye contact with either of us. "I just wanted to ask if you could preheat the oven for Helen to start the gingerbread."

Annabeth shot me a glance that was obviously annoyed, but she only turned to her dad and agreed. This was their house, after all. I was sure they didn't appreciate having to announce their presence before entering any room, in fear we would be kissing.

To our defense, we've refrained from doing much of that while they were around.

While preparing the oven, Annabeth looked over her shoulder at me with a glance I've gotten many times that week. To be continued.

Making gingerbread houses from scratch was much harder than any of them had let on. Even though the dining table was covered in protective paper, it somehow still got covered in hardening icing, bits of half-eaten candy, crumbs, and shredded coconut.

Helen and Professor Chase were making theirs together, using as little decoration as possible so their boys could use what they wanted. While Bobby and Matthew destroyed their houses Godzilla-style, I wondered if that's what happened last year to their ninja lairs.

My house looked awful. The roof was caving in, so I tried gluing it together with more icing, but it just ended up getting soggy and falling over. It was hard trying to compete with an architect; Annabeth's house was making mine look bad.

She was making a tiny replica of the Big House from camp. It even had the wrap-around porch suspended with pretzel sticks. She'd dyed some shredded coconut green and patted it around the edges for the grass, and added shaped sprinkles into the flowerboxes for flowers.

"You're missing Mr. D sleeping on the porch," I told her, and stuck a piece of candy onto her house for her.

Annabeth stared at it. "…A grape fruit snack? Really?"

"They're all we have left."

Bobby and Matthew had stolen most of the candy, covering their messes completely in sweets, so they looked like the cobblestone hills of Chernobyl.

Helen was obviously trying to hold in a heart attack.

After everyone was finished, Professor Chase took all of the gingerbread houses and set them in the refrigerator to harden overnight. He took a few seconds longer to stare at Annabeth's. It may have been my imagination, but he looked a little sad. Camp Half-Blood was more of a home to Annabeth than their house ever would be, and he knew that.

Annabeth saw his expression and reluctantly stood. She touched her dad on his shoulder. "This is a fun tradition," she told him, and his eyes lit up. "Thank you for doing it with us."

When we left the kitchen, I saw the Professor kiss his wife and hug his children out of the corner of my eye. "You have a nice family."

Her history with her family was rocky, I knew that, but their relationships are mending.

Annabeth closed her room door halfway behind us, and we both lay across her bed, ankles crossed and shoulders touching. She looked like she didn't know what to say for a moment.

"I'm happy that you're a part of it."

I couldn't help but smile. I was happy, too.

Sorry for the abrupt ending. It's been a while since I've written.

To be continued!