Sorry. But this popped up into my head and wouldn't leave until I wrote it all down. This is just silly musings about if Percy never regained his memories after TLH. PJO belongs to Rick Riordan. I'm just shamelessly writing angst about his characters.
Thursday is the Worst Day of the Week
Annabeth walks into the locker room of the gym and heads to locker number 72. It's her locker. Not officially, no, but anyone that spends times at the gym Thursday mornings knows that number 72 is hers.
She changes into her boring black suit. It has a little Speedo emblem on the left hip and it only cost her nineteen dollars. She just needed something to wear, and it had been an impulsive purchase. Annabeth lets a chuckle pass her lips this empty Thursday morning. It was cold outside today.
Then she ties her hair back into a bun and mentally makes a note to head to the drug store for razors later. She's going to need to shave again. She mutters under the breath as she pulls a silver silicone cap over her hair and snaps on black goggles.
Next she grabs her towel from her blue duffel bag and locks her things up. Cell phone, keys, notebooks, binders, stuff all safe and sound behind a beaten silver lock spray painted green.
When she steps out onto the deck of the indoor pool, the suffocating scent of chlorine and moisture worm their way into her lungs. She chokes down a lungful and makes her way to the leftmost yellow-white lawn chair set out for the patrons. She stakes her claim on the chair by placing her non-descript blue towel on it. Habit breeds familiarity of some sort.
Annabeth doesn't wade in from the shallow end like she did the first time she stepped into the pool. She walks straight to the deepest lane and dives in from the deck. It's deep enough to dive, and she isn't going to pass up an opportunity to feel the delicious splash of water hitting her skin. It only take seconds to get soaked but it takes hours to dry.
She lets herself sink to the very bottom and lies on her belly for a moment before the tickling in her lungs forces her to push off the bottom with her arms and gasp the moment she can breathe again. Then she pulls the water in front of her and kicks with her legs as she warms up with a hundred yards of breast stroke. She reminds herself to keep her back straight and keep her eyes at the bottom of the pool. She makes sure her arms pull the water in front of her chest and that her legs kick in quick pulses. Then she does two hundred yards of free style just because she can.
Afterwards, she starts her morning workout.
The burn in her lungs is delicious. It starts at the bottom and makes its way somewhere into her heart so that each breath sizzles like something fierce.
Annabeth keeps her elbows up and turns her shoulders. She's an arm length away from the wall when she flips and then her arms are tight up against her head as she pushes off again. Those brief moments in stream line position feel like flying.
She watches her shadow flicker in the sharp fluorescent lights of the gym. She's nothing but a shadow. The graceful waves in the water make her look just as dainty.
She comes up for a breath and pulls with her arms. Her leg muscles strain as she kicks.
Freestyle is her stroke.
"Keep your head down Annabeth!"
Percy laughs with his head thrown back and black hair clinging to his cheeks. The water lingers around his body as if it can't get enough of him. Annabeth sputters as she twists in the water and then finally lifts her head up enough in the water to send Percy a disgruntled glare.
The effect is ruined by the goggles over her eyes and the cap covering her hair. They make her look like an alien and she had been reluctant to wear them at first, but not everyone can just wish the current into pushing their hair out of their face like Percy can.
"Can it, Seaweed Brain. Show me again." Annabeth's mouth thins into a line and Percy swims closer to her.
He's almost right up against her when his hands come up and lift her goggles up to rest on her forehead. He smiles at her and watches the way his smile shines through his eyes. His eyes crinkle a little at the corners and Annabeth somehow finds herself smiling back. Percy has that effect on her. Suddenly, the water feels that much warmer with Percy so much closer.
"Let's stop for today. I think my attempt to make a fish out of you is working wonders already."
"Amphibian."
"Uh…sure."
"Percy! How can you not know what an amphibian is? A creature capable of living on land and water, you know."
Percy gives her sly grin and for some reason Annabeth knows her cheeks are red from more than just the sun.
"Who said anything about sharing you?" Percy asks smugly. The grin is something of a smirk now, and Annabeth just groans and tilts her head back to look at the sky instead of Percy's roguish expression. She doesn't want to encourage him.
But he just cuts through the water and maneuvers himself so that the blue of the sky is blocked by the blue-green of his eyes. Annabeth looks into his eyes as Percy slips her goggles from her head and then peals her cap away from her hair. His hands clumsily smooth through her hair and takes out the hair tie barely holding her curls in place.
She has no idea how close their faces are until they bump noses and share an awkward kiss. Annabeth is suddenly laughing and twisting in the water so that she can cling to Percy's shoulders and wrap her legs around his waist to kiss him properly.
"Wise Girl, your foot is digging into my back."
This time Annabeth throws her head back to laugh. That is, until Percy moves forward to nip at her jaw, because at that point she just sort of chokes on her laugh.
She drips as she pulls herself out of the pool. She slips her goggles off and wraps them around her wrist twice. She rips her cap off and just breathes. That control, that rhythm in the pool isn't as easy to maintain on dry land. She feels like a fish out of water and she can almost see that shade of green his eyes were.
But he's gone now. It's been five years since she's seen him and she's done everything she could to get him back. He doesn't remember a thing. The last time he tried to teach her how to swim was Thursday on a sinfully hot day. They had snuck into the local pool after closing hours.
It's a crime to close a pool before the sun goes down. Let's make good use of it.
Gods, the cadence of his voice echoes in her head so clearly. The sloshing of the water into the gutters below the deck reminds her of the sound of the blue, blue water that day.
Annabeth dares a glance at the water in the pool behind her. The water is murky. The tang of sunshine and the lethargy of summer are both gone.
He had tasted like chlorine, and now that she thinks about it, lost dreams.
Annabeth makes a quick dash to her locker before her shower. She brings two, tiny squirt bottles of body wash and shampoo with her into her shower stall. She stands under the spray of water for a long time. The water is only luke warm because she's found that if the water is too hot, she gets sleepy afterwards. She stands under the spray for a little longer before summoning the will to shampoo her hair. Her towel hangs a hook outside her stall, and as of yet, no one has tried to steal it.
She doesn't socialize like the other women do. She's just another gym member to them. She comes in the morning, swims for two hours, and then leaves. A quiet, young college student trying to keep up her figure while she keeps up her grades is all she is to them. She hears laughter and giggles outside her stall.
The soap is swirling as it spirals down the drain.
Annabeth is barely out of the shower before she is toweling her hair dry feverishly. She glances at the clock and then fumbles with her lock. She pulls on her clothes as fast as she can. Forget modesty in the locker rooms. It's not like she's got anything no one has seen before.
It's nine o'clock and she has to get to class, but she makes sure her hair isn't dripping. The last time she dripped on her seat mate's laptop, the girl had thrown a hissy fit about how expensive her things were and how she has to maintain an image. How that had anything to do with a laptop and a few drops of water, Annabeth had and still has no idea.
When Annabeth is about to walk out of the locker room, she catches a glimpse of herself in the new full length mirrors behind one of the walls. She notes that pools of water around the tiles there and lets a humorless giggle escape her. No doubt it was from girls and women alike checking out their figures after a thirty minute floating session in the water. She's almost a little prideful of how many laps she manages to cram into two hours. Almost being an operative word.
She looks at herself in her skinny, blue jeans and sweatshirt. The jeans were a gift from her step mother a few months back. Something about getting into the latest teen fashions, as if Annabeth is going to be a trend setter. As long as she doesn't have to shop for herself, Annabeth is just pleased with the gift. She doesn't really see what all the fuss is about.
She has a faded t-shirt underneath the sweatshirt, and a celestial bronze dagger tucked into her waist band at the small of her back, held in place by her belt. The shirt used to be Percy's. Sally had given her some of Percy's stuff because she couldn't keep all of it what with the new baby that she and Paul had a while back. She looks at her dirty Converse and her frayed-at-the-edges duffle bag. She looks into her mirror-eyes and sees a girl who hopes that the pain in her lungs with overshadow the pain in her heart.
She doesn't look happy.
Annabeth tries to smile at her reflection. It looks pretty convincing. But she's not really happy. Not really. Not at the core of her being, she's not happy and she doesn't understand why not. He's gone and there's not even the tiniest chance that he'll come back. He's gone and it's not just about having him in her life anymore. She's not going to go into clichés about how he took her heart with him, but he sure as Hades took something with him and she can't seem to smile without him. But at the same time it's so much bigger than just the fact that he's not there anymore. His absence created a vacuum in her life with all the could-have's and would-have's and should-have-been-there's. She's not sad anymore. She's just not happy.
She sweeps out of the locker room before her own gaze makes her fidget and starts walking at a steady lope. She has thirty minutes to walk to class.
Another Thursday, and somehow she's still alive.