A.N. This is a slightly older work from my ao3, just a one shot, enjoy!

October 1st 2005

Percy slams the door behind him with a little more force than necessary, startling his roommate. Grover, previously hunched over his desk, turns his head swiftly at the noise, just in time to see Percy land face down on his bed.

"Grover," he whines, voice muffled by the sheets, "I need some serious help."

When Percy lifts his chin, his friend is fully alert, back straight, eyes flitting around the room. It's one of the little quirks Percy's noticed about Grover in the last month. He's on edge, at the smallest disturbance, like he's waiting for something to happen. Percy shrugs. Grover's the first real friend he's ever made at school and a downright relief amongst a sea of snobby rich kids. So Percy chooses to look past the weird stuff, like the hoard of tin cans under his bed, and the drawer full of lint rollers.

"I need help thinking of a Halloween costume," he huffs out, bringing his hands up to support his face.

Grover visibly relaxes. His ears droop slightly, and he lets out a shaky sound that's not quite a sigh. Percy ignores it.

"Oh, that's it?"

Now Percy frowns.

"Halloween is the most important day of the year," he declares, because it's simply a fact of the universe.

Instead of being condescending, like Percy's come to expect from too many people, Grover tilts his head.

"I didn't know you liked it that much," he comments, eyes curious.

"It's been my favorite holiday since forever," Percy admits, a smile tugging on his face as he starts to think about it, "Mom and I always carve pumpkins, and get an extra to bake a pie, and if we get lucky and Gabe is out of the house, we watch a horror movie and make spiced hot chocolate."

Percy is so grateful Grover chooses not to comment on how obviously he misses his mom. It's the first time he won't see her on Halloween, and it feels wrong, but now's not the time for all that. He clears his throat.

"Anyways, costume ideas," he says, "You got any, G-man?"

Grover plays along with his not-so-graceful subject change.

"Ummm..."

And Grover, although he's clearly struggling, actually seems to give it some thought.

"A pirate?"

"Nah, I like doing specific costumes," Percy says, shaking his head, "Like characters that people will recognize, you know?"

Grover rubs his chain and leans back in his chair.

"I don't know if I'm gonna be any help, Perce, I don't really watch a lot of movies and stuff."

The slight rush of being nicknamed—Perce! He's never been called that before!—is overshadowed by the fact that he still doesn't have a costume. He flops back onto his back and stares at the grooves in the ceiling. For a private school for rich kids, they sure haven't been pouring a lot of money into the student dorms.

Percy racks his brain.

"Hercules?" he suggests, throwing the idea out there for judgment, "And you could be Phil? Or Hades?"

"NO!" Grover chokes out.

It's a few notches too loud, and Percy has to sit up to make sure his friend is still okay. Grover looks like he's having an actual panic attack, but when Percy moves to help, his friend physically shakes off the constipated expression. Another quirk then, he decides, laying back down.

"That's fair," Percy mutters, "He's not that cool anyways."

He once again ignores Grover's muted sound of distress to concentrate. It's weird that for such an avid fan of the holiday, every year he struggles to think of a costume. But he feels like it's his responsibility to find something that was recognizable and also not cliché, and as the saying goes, with great responsibility comes great...no that's not right...with great power comes...

Percy bolts up for a second time, a grin taking over his face.

He points to himself. "Peter Parker." He points to a slightly concerned-looking Grover. "Miles Morales."

"Who?"

At first Percy thinks he's joking, but the longer Grover continues to stare blankly, he has a sinking feeling the poor guy is being serious.

"Okay, okay, that's fine," Percy rushes out, crawling under his bed to pull out his suitcase, "It's time for you to get a real education."

Percy emerges, clutching onto a small stack of comics that he spreads over his bed to sift through. Over the years he's collected a few from thrift stores here and there, and while he doesn't have any complete collections or runs, he's been able to get his hands on some of his favorite issues.

Grover stumbles out of his chair and leans to watch over his shoulder, as Percy starts to explain the backstories and origins of his favorite superheroes.

October 10th 2005

Let it be known, that while Percy's only true friend is Grover, he still has some connections at Yancy. Eventually, he has big plans to use them to distribute the candy that's hiding in his suitcase, under the other comics, but that's a later problem. For now, he pulls some strings and returns to his dorm victorious, backpack stuffed with not one, but two spandex suits. One red, one black. They're perfect, Percy thinks.

When Grover comes back from breakfast, he finds Percy sitting cross-legged on his bed, black fabric stretched over a square of cardboard, and a marker in hand.

Percy barely pauses in his work. He can't or else the lines will come out choppy.

"Dude, what're you doing? It's time for class," Grover asks, hobbling over to his closet to stuff a couple of distressed notebooks inside a backpack.

And that's another thing. Grover walks like he might have a limp, but never uses crutches and never indicates that he's in any pain. Percy had seen him slip a note to the PE teacher and had heard when the teacher repeated the words, "muscular disease" back at his friend like he hadn't believed it. Percy has also seen Grover on enchilada day. He's not sure he believes it either.

"Not done yet," is his answer.

Percy narrows his eyes at the comic and then back at the suit. Do the lines under the arms go straight back or up? He can't quite tell.

"Tell 'em I'm sick," he mutters, deciding to draw them a little tilted.

"Seriously, Perce?"

Percy doesn't look up, but Grover sounds like he's not sure whether he should be amused or concerned.

"Yeah, say I threw up or something."

"Um, yeah, okay," Grover sounds unsure, but then he pauses, "Thanks...for making my costume."

When he realizes what Grover's just said, Percy looks up with a blinding smile, but his friend is already out the door, so he resumes his work. A few seconds later, he almost drops his marker as a sudden thought registers.

Grover is a horrible liar.

October 31st 2005

When Percy walks into the gymnasium, Grover in tow, he feels like he's on top of the world. A few people nod approvingly at their costumes as they pass, and for the first time since he's been at Yancy, it feels like they're looking at him, instead of through.

It won't last, he knows it won't. From tomorrow, everything will go back to normal, and he won't be Peter Parker, friendly neighborhood Spiderman anymore, he'll just be Percy. He's determined to enjoy the night anyways.

The detention he had earned for skipping class that one time, and the other he had gotten when he snuck away to finish the spider emblem on the chest, had been well worth it. Even Grover seems to be having a good time.

Percy's not sure why his friend had insisted on wearing baggy pants and a jacket over the spandex, but in the end, it worked better with the costume, so it didn't really matter. Percy had also decided to forgo the masks, both because he didn't have the materials to make them and because Grover's afro actually completed his look. Percy had added a zip-up hoodie of his own, and he finds that he likes the haphazard, 'you caught me mid-transformation' feel of it all.

"The Spidermans, nice," a blond boy comments as he walks by, giving them a thumbs up and quick smile before disappearing into the punch line.

Percy has no idea who the guy was, he's not even sure he's in their grade, but the compliment makes his skin buzz a little.

Grover laughs beside him.

"I think I get why you like Halloween so much," he says softly.

Percy shoves his hands into his red hoodie.

"It's my chance to be someone else," he admits, almost unwillingly, "Someone people know."

He knows he's said too much when Grover's expression twists into something a little sad. He's only known the guy for a month, but there's something to be said about the fact that Percy doesn't feel as embarrassed about the confession as he thinks he should. He changes the subject anyways.

"It's not the only reason," he declares, louder, and it's not even a lie.

The gymnasium is aglow in a reddish orangish light he only appreciates at this time of year. While the school committee may not spend money on their living arrangements, they definitely went all out for this event, something that Percy's not even that mad about. There are cotton cobwebs stretched across the ceiling and folded-up basketball hoops, and plastic skeletons hanging from the walls. A line of pumpkins, probably plastic judging by the artificial light, cuts across the floor to separate the refreshments from the main area. And there's even a machine in the corner, sliding a soft fog along the ground.

Percy may not like Yancy, but he has to admit, they throw a mean Halloween party.

He grabs a yelping Grover by the arm and drags him over to where there's a small crowd forming.

"Come on, G-Man, let's bob for apples," he declares, "Sounds like your kinda game."

October 31st 2006

"Percy, honey!" Sally calls from the living room, "Tommy's expecting you soon!"

Percy doesn't hear her the first time and pokes his head out, asking for his mom to repeat herself. The blood drains from his face and he chokes out a 'got it' before shutting himself back in his room.

He had completely forgotten. How could he forget!

Percy hasn't made any friends yet at Meriwether, not like that's unusual, and doesn't have any plans to go out for the holiday. He might've asked Annabeth, if had she been at camp, but she seemed to be doing well in California. Percy's glad that she's getting along with her dad, but with Grover also somewhere across the country, he's been left friendless during his favorite time of the year.

And then, a few days ago, the neighbor had asked them if Percy could take their son trick-or-treating, and he had forgotten that that meant he needed a costume. Until now.

Now that he thinks about it, it's his first Halloween as a demigod. Ever since he found out about his parentage, and went on that quest, he feels more like himself than ever. And as dangerous and nerve-racking as his life has become, he feels weirdly more comfortable in his own skin. He used to spend so many years looking forward to the one day he was able to be someone else, someone special, even if it was just a costume. That urge, he realizes, has lessened.

It doesn't take away his love for Halloween. Actually, it's the opposite. He's had more fun this year with his mom than in any of the previous years. (And maybe Gabe's absence also has a hand in that, but whatever.)

He still needs a costume, though. And fast.

He frantically rushes into his closet, shoving clothes aside. Hoodie, hoodie, camp shirt, hoodie, camp shirt. Percy groans, running his hands through his hair. He thinks about where else he could possibly look, but his room's quite small. There's the dresser, which is filled with socks and jeans, the bed, the desk he never uses—wait. Percy's gaze goes back to the bed.

"Please, mom, don't hate me," he mutters, swiping the sheets out from under the mattress.

Fifteen frustrating minutes later, Percy emerges from his room, slinking into the main area of their apartment, back hunched and a hand grasped around a slender pole.

Sally double-takes when she sees him.

Percy winces and folds a little deeper into himself.

"I'm so sorry, I just forgot to make a costume before, and this is the only thing I could think of."

Sally is holding a hand in front of her mouth, and it takes Percy a few, painfully long seconds to realize that she's laughing. She's not upset, she's physically shaking because she's trying to hold in her amusement.

Somehow, this is worse.

"Mom," he whines, "Please, stop."

"Oh, honey," she says, a little breathless between her giggles, "Well, it's just..."

"What?" Percy demands.

"It's not very accurate," she reveals, and this sends her into another fit of laughter.

Percy crosses his arms and pulls a face.

"When I met him," his mom begins, walking over to tug on where the white bedsheets are bunching weirdly around his belt, "Your father was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. But I guess a toga would be more recognizable, for mortals."

Sally finishes draping the fabric neatly over his shoulder like in the history books and tucks it securely under the belt.

"There you go, honey," she says, then steps back to admire the finished product, "...Is that my curtain rod?"

Percy blushes, but secretly he's glad that she's not mad at his somewhat terribly put-together Poseidon costume.

"Maybe," he hedges, "I rolled up paper to make the pointy parts."

Percy twirls his makeshift trident around a little, gently, because the glue's still drying.

Sally sighs.

"Prongs, Percy. A whole summer at camp and you still don't know your father's godly weapon?"

"Too busy worrying about my uncle's," Percy snickers, and he doesn't care that his mom closes her eyes and shakes her head.

He knows his joke was funny and that's all that matters.

"Just be back by eleven," Sally says, and waits for Percy to nod, "Riptide?"

Percy pats his toga. He's cut a hole in the side of his sheets for a makeshift pocket, not that his mom needs to know that right now.

After promising that he'll be as safe as possible, his mom lets him go with a small plastic hollowed-out pumpkin basket and a kiss on the cheek.

Percy's first stop is at the neighbors, to pick up Tommy and hopefully whatever candy they're handing out tonight. When the door swings open, there's a small boy with mousey brown hair blinking at him from under a bright purple hood.

"Percy!" he chirps, and almost runs out the door.

At the last minute he turns sideways, so the long horizontal wings across his back don't get caught in the frame.

"To infinity..." Percy starts.

"And beyond!" Tommy finishes with a whoop and a fist in the air, "And who are you supposed to be?"

Percy raises his fake trident in a show of... well, nothing really. It's a curtain rod and printer paper and it's not his best work.

"I'm a Greek god," he mock boasts anyways, "Can you guess which one?"

Tommy scrunches his nose.

"Zeus?"

Percy splutters with rage.

October 1st 2007

Halloween this year starts on a weekend. If anyone asks, but also if no one asks, Percy will say that the holiday spans the entire month, from the first of October to the first of November. Annabeth had laughed at him when he told her but hadn't disagreed.

Nevertheless, Percy wakes up on the first day of Halloween and realizes that he's in his camp cabin, instead of in his bed on the upper east side. He had gone to camp after school ended on Friday to squeeze in some training and had completely forgotten about the date. Instead of spending Saturday morning watching the Addams family in his pajamas, he drags his butt over to breakfast and then to the training arena to hack at some dummies with his sword.

He contemplates when he should head home because while learning to stay alive is important, the pumpkin cookies he knows his mom probably has in the oven right now are really making him question his priorities.

"Wanna spar?"

Percy whips around at the new voice and finds Thalia Grace at the end of his sword. She rolls her heavily lined eyes and bats it away from her face. Percy wonders if the Stolls smuggled the makeup in for her and what she even paid them with. Thalia looks expectantly at him.

Percy shrugs in agreement and readies himself into a starting stance.

He doesn't know much about Thalia, if he's being honest. She's a daughter of Zeus, supposedly his cousin, but it doesn't really feel like that. They're tentative friends, sure, but sometimes Percy feels like he's walking on eggshells around her.

He knows it's no one's fault. Waking up years in the future, only to find that your friends have grown up without you and one of them is a traitor sounds like it would absolutely suck. Percy's actually surprised that Thalia had chosen not to attend boarding school with Annabeth, but he has yet to broach the subject of why. He has a feeling, though, that it has something to do with wanting to train as much as possible. After all, the better they can fight, the more likely they are to survive against monsters. The sentiment is glum but unfortunately true.

Thalia analyzes his limbs and holds her spear accordingly. She barely gives him a warning before she lunges forward.

Godsdamn, Percy grumbles to himself, he would've thought that after seven years as a tree, she'd be at least a little out of shape.

He parries her strike with Riptide, trying to dance around her torso and get in a hit from the side, but she refuses to let him off-center her. They exchange blows for a few minutes before Percy finally draws blood, a thin little incision on her cheek, and they separate.

Scowling, Thalia swipes a thumb over the cut to help close it and wipes it on her orange shirt. She brings her spear back into position, ready to continue their round, but Percy lowers his sword and caps it.

"Giving up already, fish face?" she taunts, but there isn't much heat behind it.

"No, I..." Percy trails off, thinking how he can word this so that it doesn't sound lame, "Have plans?"

Thalia audibly snorts.

"Try again."

Percy huffs and busies his hands by putting the dummies back in their usual positions.

"Halloween starts today, and I'm going home to celebrate."

He spares a brave glance at the daughter of Zeus to see her staring as if he's grown a third eye.

"Halloween?" she asks, incredulous, but he can tell her interest is piqued.

"Yupp."

Percy starts walking out of the arena, and Thalia follows, folding her extremely intimidating spear back into canister form.

"And how exactly do you celebrate a holiday that takes place four weeks from now?"

Percy starts to list out all the previous traditions he's partaken in, counting on his fingers.

"Horror movies, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cookies, planning a costume, decorating the house..."

His ears flush when he realizes he's been rambling for a while, but Thalia doesn't look at him like he's crazy. She actually looks a little interested. It suddenly occurs to Percy that she's probably never had a proper Halloween, considering she's only ever lived on the run or as a tree. Just thinking about it makes his heart sink a little and the words tumble out before he can think them through.

"Why don't you come with me?"

Thalia startles, looking a little unsure. It's not an expression Percy is used to seeing on her.

"What, like, to your house?"

"Yeah, why not?" Percy scrambles to convince her, "Just for the weekend. I have school anyways which mom won't let me skip. And if you think it's lame you can just come back. The city's not that far."

Thalia opens her mouth and narrows her electric blue eyes. She searches Percy's face for something, but finally un-tenses her shoulders.

"Sure. Okay."

...........................................

Adjusting his backpack over his shoulder, Percy raises a hand and knocks on his front door. Thalia shifts behind him.

Sally's expression when she greets the two is both warm and confused, but not because of Percy's early return. That, she had already seen coming.

"You must be Thalia," she says instead, sending the girl a soft smile, "Welcome in."

"Hi Miss Jackson," Thalia waves, and follows Percy over the sill and into the apartment.

All at once, she's hit with the scent of cinnamon and apples.

"I'll put on some tea, is ginger honey okay?" Sally asks, leading them through the small hallway and into the kitchen.

Thalia nods mindlessly, turning her head to stare at everything she passes. The Jackson apartment isn't exactly what she expected. Percy being Percy, she figured it would be messy, with muted colors, and more than one skateboard hiding in the corner. Instead, it's cozy and almost eclectic. The couch is draped in multiple fleece blankets, and the empty spaces on the shelves are occupied by lit candles.

Percy drops his backpack on a chair and immediately digs his hands into the large cardboard box at the dining table.

"Decorations," Sally explains.

Percy pulls out a blob of white fuzz and stretches it out.

"Wanna put these up?" he asks, and Thalia drops her backpack where he had and moves to help him with the cobwebs.

...........................................

Thalia knows she likes Percy's mom when Sally wordlessly drops a book into her lap before winking and heading into another room. Thalia looks down and opens it. It's one of those photo albums.

She doesn't mean to, but she actually snorts while flipping through the first few pages. All the pictures are of Percy and Sally, around this time of year. There's one of Percy as a baby, with his grubby hands inside an open pumpkin, pulp smeared across his face. On the next page, he's dressed as a shark, drowning in the too-big blue onesie.

Percy looks over from where he's just finished attaching a plastic ghost to the ceiling.

"Hey!" he whines, and reaches for the book, but Thalia quickly snatches it away, flipping faster.

Suddenly, she stops.

And bursts into laughter.

She holds the book open to face Percy.

"Oh my gods, what is this?" she cackles, "This is—" She stops to check the next pages. They're empty. "This is last year."

Percy groans and when he finally grabs the book, she lets him. The damage is already done.

"Someone thought I was your dad," he says quietly, like it's a crime.

That makes Thalia laugh even harder.

When she finally sobers up, her stomach hurts.

"Who are you gonna be next?" she asks, wondering if this year's costume will be as bad as the last one.

(She has to give him credit though. She had seen the picture of him and Grover in the matching Spiderman suits, and while they were obviously handmade, Percy had actually done a pretty good job.)

Percy sinks into the couch, tossing the album aside.

"'Dunno," he admits, before his face lights up, "But you could be a Christmas tree."

Thalia's not sure if she wants to laugh or punch him for that.

"Get it?" he continues, "Because you were a pine—"

The rest of the words are lost, muffled under the pillow Thalia promptly smothers him with. He says something else that might be "It's a layered joke!" or maybe "Let me go!" but the lack of airflow really makes it hard to tell.

On her way to the kitchen for a glass of water, Sally politely asks Thalia to release him.

As Percy glares at her, the effect being ruined by how he's struggling to inhale, Thalia can see the exact moment a lightbulb goes off in his brain. He grabs the remote for the tv and starts rapidly pressing buttons.

"What're you doing?" she asks.

"I have an idea, for both of us," he reveals, excitement coloring his voice, "But you can't dress up as a character you don't know, so we're gonna have to watch the show. For research."

"For research," Thalia echoes, but sitting here on the Jacksons' couch with a warm cup of tea is the most comfortable she's felt in months, so she doesn't protest.

A bright green color overtakes the tv screen and weird warbly music fills the room. Thalia can't remember the last time she watched a cartoon. She pulls the blanket away from Percy and over her own legs, deciding that coming back the next weekend might not be a bad idea.

October 31st 2007

Percy fiddles with his new watch as he and Thalia walk down one of the streets near his apartment.

"Two blocks up and one more avenue over," he tells her.

Percy's practically bouncing with every step they take towards their destination, a popular haunted house attraction that always puts on a good scare.

"Halloween is so cozy and warm," he breathes, taking in the sights.

He waves to a group of skeletons, painted white face bones glowing in the dark.

"It's 35 degrees outside," Thalia deadpans.

"I meant, like, emotionally."

"Dweeb," she mutters.

It's so in character, that Percy snickers.

They turn the corner, and two kids about their age catch sight of their outfits. The guy on the right points at them and breaks out into a smile.

"Now that's funny," he elbows his companion who also recognizes them.

Percy holds up the back of his wrist to show off his carefully constructed fake Omnitrix. When the boys pass, the first one high-fives Percy and grins at Thalia.

"I've outdone myself," Percy tells Thalia, looking down at his Ben Tennyson outfit.

He's wearing the classic white t-shirt with the center black stripe and baggy green cargos. The enormous grey and green watch is a little heavy on his wrist but it's definitely worth it.

"I thought Annabeth said you were humble," Thalia snarks back, crossing her arms over her equally accurate Gwen Tennyson costume.

The blue, long sleeve wasn't too hard to manage, but Percy had spent an hour convincing her to wear the white pants. It was a jarring look, for anyone who knew her usual punk style. She had, however, absolutely refused to wear an orange wig, but the two of them side by side were recognizable to anyone who had watched the show.

Percy ignores the jab because he doesn't really know how to respond to that.

"Come on, they're cousins, we're cousins," he argues, "It's perfect."

Thalia taps her chin thoughtfully.

"I guess that fact that I think you're an idiot is also on brand," she retorts.

Percy pouts, but he's not offended. He's actually gotten to know Thalia a bit more in the last month, and he knows she's mostly joking.

There's a flash of fur in his peripheral vision and he stops.

"Is that—"

"Hellhound," Thalia grimaces, and they take a step back to peer into the alley they just passed.

Percy takes a moment to thank the gods that his costume this year doesn't really restrict his movement.

"Alright, how do you wanna do this?" he whispers, slipping Riptide out of his pocket.

Thalia opens her mouth to reply but then shuts it and smirks, crossing her arms.

"What do you mean, doofus? You're the one with the freaky powers."

Percy gapes at her, speechless, as his sword unfurls from its pen form. The hellhound inside the alley starts to stalk towards them, nose locked in on their scent.

"What's wrong?" Thalia taunts playfully, "Can't go hero?"

The monster pounces, and Percy just barely rolls out of the way, yelping. When he regains his bearings, he sees Thalia standing on top of a closed dumpster, leaning against the brick building. She doesn't even have her spear out.

Percy grips his sword tighter and lunges at the monster, slashing at its flank before dodging out of the way when its jaw clamps down where he used to be standing.

"Don't you think you're taking this costume thing too seriously?" he yells over the hellhound's snarls.

When Percy lays the final hit, and the alley quiets, gold dust swirling through the air, he hears Thalia cackling with laughter.

"You chose to do the original series," she points out, "Maybe if we'd gone with Alien Force Ben and Gwen, like I said, I could have helped."

Percy doesn't want to even begin to argue about how that logic makes absolutely no sense at all, especially since Gwen had started tapping into her magic in the original series, and either way, despite the sometimes weirdly similar mannerisms, Thalia isn't Gwen because Gwen is a fictional character and...where he's going with this thought, he doesn't even know.

"I hate you," he grumbles, patting the dust off his pants.

Thalia hops down from the dumpster, still smirking, and flicks him in the forehead.

"Ditto."

...........................................

"You better not freak and whip out your spear because of a jump scare," Percy warns.

They're standing in the attraction line, which thankfully isn't too long. As they get closer to the ticket booth, the sounds of people shrieking and screaming get a little more pronounced. There's a giant skull at the peak of the entrance's arch, its marble eyes flitting back and forth as the people walk underneath. Every few minutes, it unhooks its jaw, letting out a hallowing laugh and a hiss of thick smoke.

Thalia gives him a look as if to say, 'Just how stupid do you think I am?" and resumes her game of seeing how many character costumes she can recognize. (It's not a lot.)

"Dude, I'm just saying," Percy argues, "When it comes to danger, you only have fight instincts, which is ironic because flight should be—"

Thalia cuts him off by grabbing his elbow and dragging him towards the next free counter at the ticket booth.

"Relax, I'm not about to stab a mortal," she hisses quietly, "I couldn't even if I tried."

"That's not—whatever," Percy drops it and gives a few bills to the zombie handing out tickets, "Two, please."

October 1, 2008

After showing up at his birthday party unannounced back in August, Percy hadn't expected Nico to drop by again. Their conversation had done a lot to mend their relationship, but still, knowing how generally skittish he was, Percy didn't think he would see Nico again for a while.

Huh, he thinks, blinking at the slightly swaying boy on his fire escape, he was wrong.

Nico stares at Percy for a few seconds too long, his gaze completely unreadable.

"Is this a joke?"

"Wha—" Percy looks down, and the tips of his ears flush pink, "Oh. No. These are just decorations."

Percy shakes the plastic skeleton lightly, its joints knocking together. He latches it onto the metal grating above him and hopes his upstairs neighbors don't step onto their fire escape and crack the hook. When he comes back down, Nico is still staring, confused.

"Decorations? Like for Halloween," Percy explains.

"Right, the American holiday," Nico realizes, slowly, "I thought—never mind."

Percy grins at the boy. He knows that if he asks him to elaborate, Nico's going to clam up, so instead, he just opens the door back into his room and motions for the other boy to follow.

He didn't expect to see Nico again so soon, and definitely not on the first day of Halloween, but now that he's here, a tiny seed of thought rapidly begins to grow in his mind.

"Have you ever celebrated?" Percy asks.

"Once," Nico admits, quietly, as he skims his fingers over Percy's (very bookless) bookshelf, "In Italy. I was a wizard."

Percy has to stop himself from smiling at the thought of Nico in a very pointy hat and oversized robes.

"Do you want to celebrate with me this year?"

Nico startles, and his and Thalia's reactions are so similar that Percy mentally curses the gods for depriving their children of this very important childhood experience.

"Last year," Percy continues, pretending that he doesn't see Nico's very disbelieving expression, "Thalia and I went to a haunted house, and we dressed up as—well, I don't think you'd know the characters, but it was a ton of fun, so we should do it too."

Nico still doesn't look convinced, shoving his hands into his aviator jacket, so Percy gives him his best pleading eyes.

"Fine," the boy finally mumbles, "But no haunted houses."

Percy grins so wide it splits his face, his excitement getting a tiny smile out of Nico.

"Done. Some people at Goode will probably throw a party at Central Park and I could ask Rachel to get us invites," he suggests, "Either way, Halloween's about the little things. Mom's making apple pie next week if you want to stop by again."

Percy makes the offer as casual as possible, and Nico hums noncommittedly, which is as close to a victory as he'll get.

"In the meantime, though, I've already picked out our costumes."

Percy leads Nico into the living room and grabs some homemade cider out of the fridge. He pours it into a pair of mugs and sticks them both in the microwave.

"Don't I get a choice in that?" Nico asks, raising a single dark eyebrow.

He glances around. The apartment is decorated much differently than it had been in August, he notes, the Jacksons really went all out.

"Trust me," Percy says, "This is what I'm good at."

"Fine, what am I going to be?"

The thrumming of the microwave stops, and Percy hands Nico a mug before settling down on the couch. Nico hesitantly joins him, on the opposite side.

"Okay, so there's this tv show. It's called Avatar—"

"Never heard of it."

"I know that," Percy rolls his eyes, gesturing to the remote already in his hand, "That's why we're going to watch it."

"This feels like a lot of effort," Nico comments, "Why can't I just be a vampire or something?"

Percy barely manages to hold in a pale joke.

"Trust me," he reiterates, "This'll be fun."

Nico finally sighs into the cushions, guiding the mug up to his lips. His expression stays neutral when he takes a sip, but it brings it back up for another, so Percy figures he doesn't hate it.

Exactly two and a half minutes into the episode, when Katara lifts a pocket of water out of the sea, swirling it and the fish above her head, Nico turns to Percy and says, "That's you, isn't it?"

Percy barks out a laugh, delighted at how fast Nico was able to clock him.

"Aw, how'd you know?"

...........................................

At the very end of the first episode, the credits roll, and Nico, very slowly this time, turns his head to face Percy again.

"A boy," he begins, and Percy winces, "Trapped in time for decades, wakes up to a world he doesn't recognize."

"Umm...representation matters?"

Nico is silent, expression a cross between a glare and one of absolute disbelief.

"I am not shaving my head," he grinds out.

Percy blanks for a second, wondering why he would need to clarify that, before putting his hands up.

"Wait, wait, no, you're not gonna be Aang," he rushes to correct himself before Nico summons a skeleton to drag him back to Hades, "Your character doesn't show up until the second season."

"What? " Nico practically shouts, "I have to watch two seasons of this?"

"Three, actually."

Percy presses play on the next episode, pretending he does not see the way Nico's eyes are now boring into the side of his skull.

"What, you thought we were going to stop halfway through?" Percy mutters softly, "Psycho."

He holds his breath, waiting, until Nico finally faces the tv again.

October 8th 2009

Nico, miraculously, uses the front door this time. Probably because he knows Percy's mom will be home, but again, small victories. A week and a season of ATLA later, Nico watches as Percy and Sally carefully load the pie pan into the oven. It's weird, that he doesn't hate being here. He had helped peel the apples and then was content to watch as Percy mixed up the filling under his mom's instructions and poured it into the crust.

Once the oven is set to 425 degrees and 45 minutes, Nico grabs a blanket and plops down onto the center of the couch, waiting for Percy to queue up the second season. He knows the older boy is pretending not to be visibly excited, but it's not working.

He waits, patiently, for five whole episodes before finally, on the sixth, Percy gleefully informs him, "This is the one."

Nico does a much better job pretending he's not excited.

His costume is going to be this legendary earthbending teacher that Aang is searching for, he knows it. So when the rumble announcer introduces the arena's champion, the blind bandit, Nico shifts to the very edge of the couch, eyes locked forward.

The smoke clears.

Nico can't help the noise of offended surprise that erupts from his throat.

"Are you kidding m—"

Percy interrupts his shout by snatching the remote back and unpausing it.

"Shhh, just watch."

Against his better judgment, Nico shuts up. And, eighteen minutes later, he presses the next episode button like his life depends on it.

October 31st 2008

"Slow down, Jackson," Nico snaps, "Why'd you have to make this robe so long?"

He's tripping over the fabric, and the green band around his head plasters his hair onto his forehead, so he can barely see either. But he has to admit, Percy had done a really good job with the costumes.

His version of Toph is virtually the same as from the cartoon, sans the weird little white pom poms the character has. He feels weird without his usual aviator jacket, but the waves and excited points he gets from strangers make up for it.

Percy kind of looks like Sokka, but instead of a boomerang slung across his back, he's wearing Katara's stone pendant and a small pouch of water on his hip. The two front strands of his hair are even braided and pinned back behind his ears. He seems to be having the time of his life, even if he's had to correct a few people on who he's actually dressed as.

The party is in full swing, not overly crowded, but there are enough people for it to feel like a proper gathering. The hosts have strung little lights and bat garlands in the trees, and there's a speaker somewhere in the bushes, blasting the "Monster Mash" across the lawn. It's a fleeting thought, but Nico thinks that in a different life, he would've liked Halloween just as much as Percy.

With one hand on Nico's elbow and another on a red cup with orange liquid that Nico hasn't seen him take a sip of once, Percy drags him over to a smaller circle of people.

"Hey guys," he greets and there are a few fist bumps passed around, "This is my cousin, Nico."

Percy's friends greet him warmly, complimenting his costume. After the first round of introductions, Nico half pays attention to the conversation and half observes the rest of the party. Distantly, someone asks where Rachel is and Percy answers that her parents pulled her away for something. He doesn't really want to talk to these people, but he's content to watch Percy interact with them. Every so often, Percy glances over at him, as if to check in, but Nico resolutely avoids eye contact. He doesn't really want to think about how that makes him feel.

After an hour, Percy and Nico finally leave the party behind, and wander through the park by themselves. It's a comfortable silence, broken occasionally by Percy sharing random things about the holiday that he remembers.

Through the trees, the sound of rambunctious laughter reaches their ears, and they see a group of friends, stumbling all over each other along the path. They spot Percy first, who waves a hello.

"Do you know them?" Nico whispers.

They seem to be a few years older and not quite Percy's crowd. The other boy shakes his head.

"Nope, but they're drunk and it's funny and, oh, look, they're coming over here."

Percy isn't kidding. They all have too bright smiles and bleary eyes, and two of them are holding up another by the armpits.

"Dude!" One of them says excitedly, "You're Toph!"

"That's me," Nico agrees, kind of amused at how the excitement ripples through the small crowd.

"And you!" A girl points at Percy, "You're Sokka, no wait, Katara."

Percy laughs along, as a guy reaches over, pokes at his water pouch, and breathes, "the details, man," in hushed awe before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Oh gods, Nico observes, they really are very drunk.

Suddenly, Nico gets an idea, a possibly, definitely bad idea, but he blames it on spending so much of the last month with Percy.

"Who wants to see something cool?" he ventures and the group turns to him expectantly.

Before Percy can stop him, Nico picks up his foot (which is unfortunately not bare because of the fear of tetanus Sally had instilled in him when Percy had told on him) and slams it hard into the earth.

The ground cracks open, a three-foot-thin jagged line running across the dirt path.

The crowd is silent for a moment, before they erupt into cheers, falling all over themselves to ask Nico how he did that. "He's a real earthbender!" "Best day ever!" "Be my teacher Toph!"

Nico smirks and refuses to answer, which sends them all into another frenzy.

"Katara's turn," he says instead, turning to Percy who looks hesitant.

"I don't know about this," he mutters.

"You said it yourself, they're drunk. They probably won't remember this anyways," Nico whispers back, then raises his eyebrows, "Besides, it's not like you haven't practiced."

Nico enjoys the way the other boy flushes a little too much.

Percy finally relents, dropping down into a classic waterbending stance, and brings his hands in sweeping motions around his torso. Percy flicks his hand, and the water trickles out of his pouch, condensing into a stream. The entire group of friends suck in, not daring to breathe as he guides the tentacle around in the air, exaggerating the movements of his arms. Nico watches it travel in circles, before stopping directly above him.

"Wait—"

Percy, the little shit, lets go, and the water drops unceremoniously onto his face. Nico splutters and blows his drenched bangs out of his eyes.

Their drunk audience members scream in delight, entirely too loud and out of control, shaking each other by the shoulders.

Percy and Nico glance at each other and take off into the night, leaving the others too intoxicated to follow. When they finally stop to catch their breaths, Percy is bent over with laughter.

"Oh gods," he cries, wiping a tear from his eyes, "That was gold."

Without instruction, Percy taps Nico on the shoulder, pulling the water off of him.

"If we're on the news tomorrow, I know who's to blame," Nico says, a rare open smile on his face as he starts walking towards the path that he thinks takes them home.

"You," Percy replies, "It's literally you. And you're going the wrong way."

Nico scoffs and switches directions.

"Sorry. It's so dark out here, I can hardly see a thing."

October 1st 2009

Annabeth puffs out a little bit of visible air, rubbing her nose before knocking with her outstretched fist. Fall had arrived earlier this year, and it's colder than it usually is at the beginning of October. Halloween, she corrects herself fondly.

The door swings open on its hinges, Percy doing a double take when he sees her before breaking out into an immediate and impossibly wide smile. Gods, she's so done for.

"Annabeth," he breathes in awe, "How—what about school?"

Annabeth laughs. Of course that's the first thing he asks her.

"Nico dropped me off," she says, simply, "I missed you."

Percy's hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck as he blushes. When she passes him on her way into the apartment, the familiar scent of saltwater reaches her nose, and Percy mumbles a 'missed you too' into her hair. Sally greets her with a tight hug at the first sight of her, before leaving them.

"So," Annabeth begins, and Percy's eyes sharpen at the tone, "This year is mine, right?"

Percy looks adorably confused.

"Grover got one, then Thalia, and then Nico. Is it finally my turn?"

She's trying to be serious, but Percy's scrunching his forehead and trying to figure out what she means and it's too hard to keep up the act. She should probably help him out.

"Halloween, seaweed brain."

Percy's eyes widen, lighting up before his face settles in a smirk. He brings his arms up to loop lazily around her shoulders.

"Jealous, wise girl?"

Annabeth scoffs at that but doesn't deny it.

"I know how much you love the holiday," she says softly, "And I want to celebrate it with you."

Percy looks at her in such a gentle form of awe that it makes her a little self-conscious.

"I've never gotten to do a couples costume," he says, grinning.

"Nothing too cheesy," Annabeth warns.

Percy says nothing.

...........................................

Right before the sun starts to set, Paul comes home from work, lugging with him three enormous pumpkins. Percy leaps out of his chair to help catch one before it slips from his grip. Paul greets Annabeth warmly, completely unsurprised by her presence.

"We should have a contest this year," he suggests, "Two against two."

The third pumpkin is for pie, which goes unsaid.

Percy cheers, bumping shoulders with her as a way to set the teams, but that, too, is already a given. Annabeth really, really wants to win, but she knows that she's probably going to end up giving Percy creative control. He does have the most experience after all.

Later, as she watches him whittle a small blade into the pumpkin shell, she knows she's made the right decision. His tongue is peeking out slightly between his lips as a show of concentration, and she can't tear her eyes away. When he spins the pumpkin around, the eyes are perfect identical little triangles. Beside them, Paul and Sally are a step behind, the older man still scooping out the vegetable's guts. He brings them a little too close to Sally's face and she yelps, pushing his arm away.

The air around her is hazy with cinnamon and warmth, and Annabeth catches her eyes slipping more than once. The sun dips halfway under the horizon, casting the entire kitchen in a delicious orange glow. She pulls Percy's sweater farther over her wrists and wonders how she's gone her entire life without this specific sort of happiness.

October 2nd 2009

The next morning, Annabeth brings her spiced hot chocolate close to her face and blows it cool, the breeze also shifting a few of her curls away.

"You would look cute in glasses," she hears Percy mutter, and starts to blush, "Like those round metal ones."

He sounds so far away even though he's sitting at the table with her, with nothing but a single placemat separating them. She tamps down a smile.

"I have 20/20 vision, seaweed brain," she informs him, dryly.

She expects him to retort back, but instead, he gasps loudly, making her almost spill the scalding drink all over her fingers. She steadies the cup just in time.

"I have the best idea," he says eagerly.

Annabeth nods at him to continue and when he tells her, a smile spreads across her face.

"That's..." then she frowns, giving it a second thought, "Actually, I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with wearing that."

Percy shakes his head like he was already expecting her to disagree.

"No, no, I meant the other way around."

And, oh.

Annabeth snorts, covering her face with her hand, but it does nothing to muffle her growing laughter.

"It's perfect," she tells him.

October 31st 2009

Annabeth picks up the brush, wipes the excess paint on the edge of the plate, and drags it over Percy's torso, from the cap of his shoulder down in a diagonal line to the center of his chest. He lets out a full-body shiver, and Annabeth laughs.

"Hold still," she warns.

"But it's cold," Percy whines childishly.

Annabeth clamps her hand down on his other shoulder to hold him still as she draws another line, parallel to the first. Then, she starts again, curving the next one across his opposite cheek, tracing the bottom arch of his eye.

"You know," she says, "Personality-wise, we should probably be switched."

Percy smiles mischievously once she's done with the section on his face.

"But then we wouldn't be in this position."

Annabeth comes acutely aware of how they're situated. Percy, sitting on the edge of his bed, and her standing between his knees and leaning down, a hand on his chin to angle her canvas better. For a moment, she stares into his green eyes.

Then, she steps out of his space.

"Go do your hair," she huffs.

Percy just laughs and kisses her cheek on the way to his dresser to grab the wig. Annabeth watches him struggle to lay it flat against his skull, before taking pity on him. She tugs it into place easily and pushes a few strands of black under the blond.

Once he's confident that the wig won't fall off with a turn of his head, Percy reaches behind him and slides a pair of thin, wire-framed glasses onto the bridge of Annabeth's nose.

"Hey, pretty girl," he grins.

"That's my line," she tells him, bringing his lips down to meet hers.

...........................................

Percy pushes the door open to one of his classmates' house party that he's brought them to. When they walk through the foyer and into the living room, it feels like everyone's eyes are fixated on them.

"You're turning heads, wise girl," Percy leans down to whisper in his ear.

It's a crime that he has to lean in the first place. She misses the precious years she had been taller.

"I'm pretty sure that's you," she tells him fondly.

In reality, it's the pair of them, Annabeth's Milo and Percy's Kida, that are a sight to behold. Annabeth is wearing a distressed beige tank top and green cargos that Percy had lent to her, held up by a leather belt. Her hair is tied back messily the same way it was when Percy first told her of his idea, and there's a pair of fake round glasses perched on her nose. Percy's costume, gods who let him wear that (she did, practically askedhim to, if she's being honest) is just a blue wrap skirt, secured in place with a strip of lighter blue fabric. His torso is fully bare and marked up with delicate blue lines that Annabeth is very proud of. There's a blue stone around his neck—reused from his previous costume—and the platinum blond wig that he had bought and cut up choppily somehow works with his skin tone.

Completely oblivious to the stares they are both receiving, Percy grabs her hand in his and drags her over to see some of the cool decorations he's spotted. He pokes at the large-scale werewolf animatronic, laughing at the way it snaps back at him. Annabeth cannot seem to stop smiling, and she sends up a prayer to the gods that every year is just like this.