Annabeth’s hand rubbed the small of Percy’s back in slow circles that he supposed were meant to be comforting to him. However, they were less than effective. Percy couldn’t feel her touch, nor so much as the slightest wafting of cool air against his bare skin.
Percy still hadn’t pulled on the top half of the new jumpsuit, but it didn’t seem to matter all that much at the moment. Annabeth had come, just like he’d asked her to, except she had in none of the ways that mattered to him. At least at the moment.
Percy needed a shoulder to lean on, and as far as he was aware, it was impossible to lean on the shoulder of a holographic avatar—no matter how realistic it seemed to be. Underneath the glittering silvery-ness, at least.
The platitudes that Annabeth’s silvery avatar offered Percy did not comfort him in the slightest. His heart was still galloping at a mile a minute, and nothing he tried could get it to slow down. He felt slightly light-headed from all the emotional turbulence that was going on inside of him, and he was starting to think he was losing his mind.