Thanks, Aphrodite!

I die of embarrassment

Athena's PoV

I was drifting, drifting, drifting, in the darkness... Like sinking into the deepest part of the ocean. For some reason, I wasn't afraid. I knew the ocean would protect me, to keep me from danger. What else did I know?

My name... That was one thing I didn't.

My limbs feel detached, as if I was a broken doll, the pieces being taken apart. Still, I felt fingers curling around my hand. Left? Right? I wasn't sure. All I could feel was its comforting presence.

Athena. I could hear the word clearly now.

Athena. The voice was insistent, deep, like waves lapping on the sandy banks.

Athena. I felt some sort of pull to the word. What was it? What did it mean?

Athena. That was my name. I fought against the currents that dragged me down, fighting, fighting, until...

My eyes opened, and I gasped. It was brighter than I expected, the light was daggers cutting into my eyes. A hand grasped mine tightly. I gingerly turned my head. It was painful, but worth it when I saw a familiar figure sitting next to my sickbed.

His black hair was messy; like it was sprayed with sea water then left to dry. His eyes closed; looking peaceful as he slumbered, leaning against the back of a rickety, uncomfortable looking chair. And his mouth, it was slightly opened and a string of drool spilling out. At the sight, I couldn't help but let out a small giggle.

His eyelids fluttered, before revealing his sea-green eyes. Poseidon.

"Athena! You're awake!" His lips forming unspoken words, his voice raspy from sleep, giving me a huge bear hug. "Let me call Apollo."

I went through tons of medical checks. Apparently, I got poisoned by some of the monsters we were fighting, and gotten a concussion while fighting giants, and passed out from blood loss. Well.

But after waking from a coma, one that lasted for days, I felt fine. Good, even. Apollo agreed, obviously, so he let me go, on the condition that I would go for a checkup every week.

And with that happy thought, I ran away. Fun fact: I hate infirmaries.

Then, I popped Poseidon and I back to my room, getting him to sit down to answer my questions. Rather, confirm my suspicions. Our conversation went something like this:

A (me): From the fact that Olympus is still intact, I am assuming that Gaea has been defeated my our children.

P (Poseidon): Yep!

A: They have defeated Gaea by putting her to sleep or killing her while she is separated with her element.

P: Yep.

A: Annabeth is still upset about the whole ordeal of "following my mark", meaning that she still hasn't forgiven me.

P: Yep, again.

A: Percy and Annabeth are being tormented by nightmares about Tartarus. They also have PTSD.

P: Yeah...

A: Annabeth doesn't know that I was knocked out.

P: Oh, for Hades' sake, why would you ask me about things you already know?

But I still haven't broached the question I seriously wanted to know about.

"Poseidon, uhm, so there's this thing I need to tell you about." I sucked in a deep breath, forcing myself to meet his eyes- they were unwavering, bright, and almost... hopeful. It was intense.

"I-need-to-talk-to-Annabeth." I chickened out, like a coward. I never felt as foolish as I did at that moment, and popped away.

Before the landscape vanished, I could catch a glimpse of Poseidon's disappointed face. I swore internally.