A/N: Happy birthday Meg (jasongraceless)! I can't tell you how amazing of a friend you are to me; I love you lots and lots. Hope your birthday is wonderful and your year is even better.

"Home is where one starts from." ~ T.S. Elliot

Three times Percy and Annabeth build a fire, and one time they build a home.

one.

The first time they build a fire, it barely starts.

Percy collects the firewood and Annabeth analyzes the way to strike a spark. The sun is just setting over the trees, the last rays of daylight coating the leaves in a golden brush. They are surrounded by forest, by shadows that are beginning to grow and stretch in the evening air.

Although Percy has never been scared of nighttime before, it makes him nervous now. He stands a few feet away from Annabeth and watches with mild fascination as she rubs two sticks together at a perfectly calculated angle, while managing to tuck a magnifying glass under her chin to refract the light a certain way. He'd normally go over and offer to help, but he's pretty sure he'd mess something up and she'd yell at him. The truth is, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't scared of her (at least, scared of her while she's busy doing something. He might not always be the most socially aware person, but he's learned not to interrupt Annabeth while she's in the middle of something).

All of a sudden, he sees a flare of blue-ish light and jumps forward, hoping to catch the sparks. They vanish into the night air just moments later, leaving bright spots that sear Percy's retina and leave him feeling disappointed and a little bit hopeless. Annabeth throws the sticks down in frustration and mutters a string of Greek curses under her breath.

Judging by the shadows, Percy guesses they have another half hour of sunlight left. Annabeth's efforts grow more frantic, and Percy wonders if this is hard for her. He doesn't know a lot about her past or where she came from, but he knows she ran away from home when she was seven.

Her lip is jutted out, her hands clenched tightly around the sticks, knuckles white, and Percy can't help but notice how tired she looks. Perhaps this reminds her of countless nights spent by firelight as she, Luke, and Thalia stumbled their way through the world, trying to find a home. They were all Annabeth had, and even her makeshift family had been torn apart by Thalia's death.

He wonders how many times she has made a fire before, and how many times that reminds her of her failure to keep her family safe.

The sticks spark again, but this time the heat catches in the bundle of kindling Annabeth had prepared. Using expert technique, she transfers the smoking pile to a larger collection of sticks, and Percy watches in awe as the sole spark grows into a seething glow of fire.

"Ah," Annabeth announces, looking up from the bundle of sticks set ablaze, "I got it." Her smile is a bit overconfident and smug, but when she meets his eyes he sees a bit of affection too. She doesn't say it out loud, but Percy can tell she's trying to share this moment with him.

He feels a tug in his gut, like he's being propelled to her and the warmth of the fire pulling him in close. Maybe they're one and the same.

Percy sits down next to her, their shoulders bumping, and he peeks at her face under the fringe of hair that just touches his lashes. He feels the heat of the fire on his hands, his chest, his cheeks. It's a little overwhelming because he feels lost in all his responsibility- being a hero, finishing the quest- but he also feels innately grounded. Like his home is at her side, no matter what.

"Yeah," he agrees, watching the fire dance dangerously in her irises, "we got it."

two.

The second time they build a fire, he's pretty sure they're about to die.

It's almost routine now; it's simple after years of experience going on quests by her side. Plus, they have matches this time, which almost makes it too easy. Percy would be all about the challenge of building it from scratch if three giant monsters weren't chasing them.

Percy grabs two heavy sticks and bundles some dry grass on top. Annabeth expertly strikes the match and sets their two makeshift torches ablaze. They work in quiet terror- they only have a few seconds to move or else they'll become Hellhound snack. Not exactly the way Percy wants to go, if he's gonna go. Not the way he's gonna let Annabeth go, if he has anything to do with it.

They surge forward in the darkness, approaching the mouth of a tunnel. Almost immediately after they enter, the tunnel forks off in two directions. They pause at the intersection, standing shoulder to shoulder, the thunder of Hellhound paws growing louder with each passing second.

"We have to split up," Annabeth decides, looking behind her. They're trapped, and the only way to escape is forward. Into the darkness.

"Absolutely not."

"Percy," she chastises, her tone equally anxious and determined, "it'll be much easier if they're divided. You go right and I'll go left."

She brandishes her torch, pulling it up and sticking her arm out so that the light cascades down the tunnel as far as it will go. Although they peer into the darkness, there's no end in sight.

He knows that she's right- she always is- but he also knows that he doesn't want to leave her side. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to let her go off alone, but he has a sinking feeling that it's also because he's a little selfish. He doesn't want to be alone, himself. He's scared.

She turns back to him, her jaw set firm and her lips pressed together. Annabeth nods her head in his direction and takes a step toward the darkness. Almost unthinkingly, Percy reaches out to grab her hand and keep her close.

Her chin jerks up at him in surprise, and his tongue flounders uselessly in his mouth.

"I don't want to leave yo—"

There's a howl immediately behind them, indicating that the monsters are only moments away from finding them. Annabeth pulls her hand back and shoves Percy forward.

"Go! I'll see you on the other side!" she calls, her voice shaking a little and fading as she gets farther away from him.

Hardly aware of them, Percy's feet drag him forward into the mouth of the cave. Although he's stumbling into the darkness to try and save his life, he manages to look over his shoulder and see Annabeth's fire recede into the gloom at the other side of the tunnel, like the blackness pinched out the flames.

It's the last thing he looks for as he turns away from her, and the first thing he'll look for when he finds her again.

three.

The third time they build a fire, it feels sort of fulfilling.

They work together in unison. There's no rush today- dinner has just ended and Chiron had asked them to prepare the campfire for the night to celebrate the close of another summer.

It's funny because Percy is no longer scared to be close to Annabeth as they gather the wood and strike a match. He's no longer a frightened twelve-year-old whose sneakers were too floppy and whose confidence was cut too short. He's learned to work with Annabeth, not against her, and perhaps that has been one of the most rewarding experiences of the summer. She doesn't let people understand her too often, he's noticed. Or perhaps people haven't been trying to understand her in the right way.

He's done a lot of heroic things in his life, but if he's proud of anything, it's that she trusts him. Sure, he can be goofy and hyperactive and generally counterproductive to accomplishing things effectively, but he always has good intentions and she knows that. She understands him, too.

This is the biggest fire they've ever started together and it's brilliant. It glows and it dances and it licks the sky and sometimes Percy feels small and insignificant, but when she gives him a smug smile and knocks him playfully in the shoulder, Percy feels a mile tall.

"Nice job, you dork. It's the best fire I've seen in a while," she says, rolling her eyes in the most tender way possible. Percy presses a hand over his heart, partially to feign hurt, but mostly because when she smiles at him like that, it feels like whatever is holding his chest together is going to splinter and crack.

It's quiet for a moment, just the two of them, and it's everything Percy needs.

"We deserve it for lasting through another summer without dying. Or without me blowing something up by accident." He says it sarcastically and she laughs, but they both know it's true. And they both know that without the other one, they wouldn't still be standing there.

Moments later, the campers begin to shuffle in for the nightly activities. The uninhabited campfire quickly becomes a hub of chatter and activity and singing. Percy finds his place among his friends, making sure to keep Annabeth near.

He's not stupid, and he knows that his feelings have progressed to something romantic- hell, platonic feelings probably flew out the window the first time he saw her. And although she teases him relentlessly and a compliment from her is hard to come by, he feels like things between them are going in a certain direction and it makes his head a little bit dizzy just thinking about it.

Chiron approaches the campfire.

"Here's to the close of another year among young heroes and among friends!"

The campers cheer wildly; Percy and Annabeth are among them.

Although it's not perfect, it's the closest thing to home that Percy has ever had. Not because he gets his own cabin or because he spends most of the year living there. Because of his friends. Because of the faces he sees alight by the campfire, glowing from the light and warmth that brings them together every night to sing silly songs and laugh and make fun of each other. In these faces, he sees a thousand stories, he sees hurt, he sees pain. But by the campfire, he sees a million smiles that burn more forcefully than batters or bruises.

Family and love shines brighter than the fire ever could.

one.

The first time they build a home together, it's everything they need.

Naturally, it's not flawless, but it wouldn't be right if it were. After all, when have Percy and Annabeth ever had things come easily to them?

They fight over stupid things and Annabeth ends up throwing a book at a wall somewhere along the line (dangerously close to Percy's head, he might add). Percy ends up breaking some of the nice china, but he swears he never really liked it anyway, so it's not a big deal.

Their days are filled with packing and unpacking boxes, painting walls and vacuuming dust. Their days are filled with narrowed eyes and temperamental glares, but they always end up kissing by the time the sun sets because love isn't perfect and neither one would want it if it was.

The first day they sleep in their new apartment, they pull a mattress into the living room and stand side by side to stare at the scene before them- a mixture of clutter and chaos and the rest of their life slowly being unraveled piece by piece. It's amazing to Percy that their adventures started with the sun going down, and now he'll get to be with Annabeth every single day as the sun comes up.

They both look over at the fireplace in the room, desolate and dusty and perfect for roasting marshmallows and lighting up the house when it's cold.

"Want to build a fire?" Annabeth asks, leaning her head on his shoulder. His arm snakes around her waist instinctively and her cheekbone brushes his collarbone.

"Nah," he says, pulling her in close and looking around them at the empty bookcase that will soon be filled with Annabeth's novels. At the Ikea desk with eighty thousand nuts and bolts scattered all over the wooden floor. At the seemingly endless boxes filled with little bits and pieces of their life that will fill the new apartment, at the empty cardboard boxes to be used for firewood sometime in the future. He can't help but feel sentimental. "We've already built a home."

She smiles at him so brightly that Percy realizes that they don't need a fire for the whole house to be radiant, anyway.