AN: this is post-giant war, but the entirety of this was written before boo was even released. so, the only discrepancy is that percy and annabeth aren't in new rome, but their ages are left ambiguous anyway, so they're back in new york. (personally, i think they both would've stayed in new york anyway because 1) percy staying with sally and paul 2) annabeth remodeling olympus 3) camp half-blood, duh. but i digress.) also, i obviously don't own pjo. (are disclaimers still a thing?)
It's two in the morning when Percy and Annabeth make the spontaneous decision to break out the baby books Percy's mom had gotten them as a wedding present. ("I expect strong, healthy grandbabies for me and Paul to look after, okay?" "Mom."). They didn't expect to succumb to the books so soon, but The Date was creeping up on them, and they couldn't just name their child No Name, Blank, or even Numero Uno, despite how cool of a name Percy think it is.
They turn on the lamp on their bedside table and let the television softly buzz in the background. Annabeth fishes out her reading glasses from a drawer, and Percy adjusts their pillows. No reason to put yourself through such hard work without being comfy first, right?
They crack open the first book around 2:10 and fly through the pages. Annabeth closes it shut around 2:13.
"That was a horrible one," Annabeth mutters. "I'm not going to name my child Mary Jane or Jane Marie or any variation of that."
Percy wraps an arm around her shoulders, and attempts to stifle a yawn as he replies, "I didn't like any of the guy names either." Percy and Annabeth, the natural risk takers they are, decided not to know the sex of their baby until the child was delivered. Obviously, this means double the work in terms of names, unless they pick a gender neutral one, but they like to live on the wild side. Until then, their baby is going to be a surprise. And it'd be a surprise if they could choose a name before The Date as well.
Handing Annabeth the next book, this one adorned with floral print and creepy pictures of smiling babies, Percy yawns again and rests his head on top of Annabeth's. He hears her grunt, but she doesn't do anything to push him off, so he stays and tries to fight off sleep. It's hard, Percy realizes. Really hard. He's warm all around because of Annabeth and the blankets, it's dimly lit, there's slight background noise, and he can still smell a bit of the strawberry-scented shampoo Annabeth uses in her hair.
It's his favorite smell, strawberries. Right next to freshly baked blue cookies.
Both of them remind him of home.
"Are you even looking at the pages?" Annabeth asks, and Percy nods, lifting his head from hers and leaning in closer to the book. He still finds himself unconsciously closing his eyes, almost dozing off before he jerks himself awake. He needs something to keep his attention, and a book is definitely not going to do the job.
So, Percy stares at Annabeth.
Percy stares at the blonde curls spilling out of her ponytail and the little tuft he created on the top of her head from nodding against it, how carefully her eyes scan the pages of the baby books around them, at the swell of Annabeth's belly underneath the blanket, and the golden band around her ring finger shining in the dim light. He remembers his mom talking about the glow a women gave off when they were carrying a child, and Percy could see it. This faint, golden glow radiating off of her body. A heavenly sign of new beginnings, of what was yet to come.
"What are you staring at?" Annabeth questions, not taking her eyes of the book. She pushes back the front of her reading glasses with her forefinger, and adjusts the blankets around her.
"You," Percy says simply.
Annabeth scrunches her face. "Why?"
Percy smiles, and pecks her nose. "Because you're beautiful."
Annabeth rolls her eyes and mutters, "Stare at the books, not me, Jackson." But he can see her eyes flickering, not as exact as before, her finger curling around the dog-eared page of the baby book, and a light blush dusting her cheeks.
Dog-eared? She must've liked something on there. Percy closes his eyes, rubs them with his hands, and opens them again. He focuses, actually. Really tries to make an attempt. The words on the page still blur for him slightly, but he sees names that might've been something like Dylan or Jackson.
Jackson.
What Percy thinks up is genius, so he excitedly tells Annabeth his idea.
"Percy Jackson," Annabeth says firmly, placing the book on her lap. "We are not naming our son Jackson Jackson." She means business.
"But we could call him Jack-Jack!" Percy argues. "He'd be one of those super cool kids with the same name."
"He'll be made fun of," Annabeth replies like she couldn't believe Percy could say such a thing. It's a common tone she uses. She rolls her eyes, and picks up the book again.
"But Jack-Jack," Percy insists. "Jack Attack. Wacky Jack. Jack..." Percy pauses for a moment before continuing, "Something-That-Rhymes-With-Jack."
"Jackson Jackson is going to get teased more than Perseus Jackson."
Percy narrows his eyes, lifts the arm stretching across Annabeth's shoulders to cross it with his other arm.
Annbeth raises a brow. "It's the truth."
"Okay," Percy laments, but immediately perks up. "But what about for a daughter?"
Annabeth stares at him, her reading glasses halfway down the bridge of her nose. "First of all, it's still a no. Secondly, Jackson isn't conventionally a girl's name, Percy."
Percy shrugs and rests his head on the headboard. "We could be trendsetters."
Annabeth laughs louder than Percy had expected, and he loves how carefree she looks doing it. "Right, trendsetters. Tell me that in a few years."
They look at the books again a few nights later, and at five a.m—yet another ungodly hour. Percy ends up taking seven two-minute naps when he's sure that Annabeth is too enthralled in the pages to even notice him. It's a skill he's cultivated through countless amounts of boring high school classes, and the days when Annabeth taught him about the ancient Greek world.
"Percy, I think I found a good name. Hey, Percy. Earth to Barnacle Brains. Wake up."
Percy didn't know what she was talking about. He was totally awake the whole time. "Wha's da name Annabananabeth."
Annabeth looks at him strangely. "Annabananabeth?"
Did he really say that? He blames the not-sleep he's in.
Percy tries to play it off as a joke. "We can name them Annabananabeth. That's pretty unique."
"I'll write that down." It's a good thing Annabeth has a sense of humor.
"What was the name you thought of?" Percy asks, rubbing his eyes.
Annabeth tells him the name, and Percy gapes.
"Richard? As in Richard Dare? As in 'The Biggest Dick Known to All Satyr-kind'?"
Annabeth purses her lips. "Okay. Not Richard. I don't know what I was thinking. It was the pregnancy talking."
Percy shakes his head. "You're going crazy, Annabeth. Grover would never forgive us. Coach Hedge wouldn't let us see his baby."
Annabeth narrows her eyes. "I may be a pregnant woman, but I can still kick your godsdamn ass with one hand tied behind my back, Jackson."
"You wanna bet?" The comeback comes quick like lightning and natural to Percy, like they're fifteen and messing around with swords and daggers and straw-filled dummies.
Annabeth stares him down, gray eyes darkening before she huffs and looks away. "Ask me again after I pee." And she pushes the blankets off and waddles off to the bathroom, feet hitting worn-out carpet.
"I'm gonna tell Rachel about the Richard thing!" Percy yells.
"I'll kill you!"
Percy pauses. "You already would've done that years ago if you wanted to!"
"You were the child of the prophecy, idiot! And ask Rachel for some baby names while you're at it!"
Percy opens his mouth to yell back something else, but he hears the door close and knows she can't hear him now. He sighs, reaches into the drawer of the bedside table, and moves his hand around blindly until he can feel the smooth surface of a drachma. It's cool in his palm as he takes his hand out.
"Mist," Percy says to himself. "Water... where can I find water?" He looks to his right once again, and he sees a half-empty glass of water resting on top of it. The bedside table is pure magic, he swears it. So, he throws the glass of water in the air, and suspends it. He focuses on dissolving it a bit, feeling a faint tug in his gut. He doesn't know what he's doing, actually, but he's thinking mist mist mist, and soon enough, the air in front of him waves with moisture. How long he could do that for, Percy doesn't know. It doesn't take much out of him, but it's five in the morning and he's tired. Without coffee or food, his stamina isn't high.
He turns the notch on the lamp, making the room slightly brighter. That's enough light, right?
"Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering." Thankfully, a rainbow appears, and Percy tosses the drachma in. The gods finally got their crap together. The coin flies in and disappears. He hears a slight ding, like the sound a payphone makes when a quarter is inserted.
"Rachel Elizabeth Dare." And he sees the redhead painting in large, wide strokes. Blocks of color are scattered on the canvas, and it's set next to a window. Percy can see the horizon peeking out behind emerald green curtains. Rachel has a cool room.
"Boo," he whispers. Rachel pauses mid-stroke, and her shoulders rise up in alarm.
"Did you know Annabeth thought Richard was a good name for our kid?"
Rachel twists around, a disgusted look on her face.
"My reaction exactly."
"Was it a joke? Please tell me it was a joke."
"I—"
"It was a joke," Rachel says firmly, crossing her arms, the paintbrush drawing a yellow line across her forearm.
Percy nods. "Also, do you have any suggestions for baby names?"
Rachel raises a brow and scoffs, turning back around to face her canvas. "You're asking a forever virgin for baby names?"
Percy opens his mouth and then closes it, like a fish. "Good point."
"I've always liked the name Cassandra," she says easily, swiping an arc of blue across a wave of purple. "And Claude, like Monet, you know?."
"Wasn't he the one who cut his ear off?"
"That was Van Gogh, Percy."
"Van Golf?"
"Van Gogh."
"... Did he play golf?" Percy kind of has to know.
"Go back to sleep, Percy." And Rachel is the one who cuts through the mist, ending the message with the back of her paintbrush. Percy makes sure to fully dissolve the water, expelling it throughout the room.
He hears a door open, and Annabeth call out, "Did she have any good names?"
Percy doesn't know how to respond without sounding stupid.
The Date is nearing, almost three weeks away. Percy and Annabeth decide to visit Camp Half-Blood for kicks. It's practically their second home, and their apartment can't nearly compare. Calling up the Gray Sisters is a very, very bad idea they decide, as well as a general safety hazard, so they take to the streets, driving in Percy's car.
It takes about an hour to get to camp, give or take a few minutes depending on the traffic. Like most New Yorkers, however, Percy is a speed demon with tons of road rage bubbling within him. Only on the streets is it okay for him scream obscenities at every single driver near him. The stupid ones, at least.
"They're all so fucking stupid, Annabeth," Percy seethes, hands clutching tightly at the wheel.
Annabeth glances at Percy's knuckles in the corner of her eyes. It's best to agree with him when he's like this. "I know, Percy. I know."
When Percy revs up the engine after a light turns green, Annabeth holds on for her life, and swears she can feel their suitcases knocking against one another in the trunk. "Slow down, Percy."
"You slow down," Percy mutters.
Annabeth turns her head sharply. "Excuse me?"
Percy stomps his foot on the brakes, and stops the car abruptly. The seatbelt digs into Annabeth's chest and stomach, and she glares at Percy. "Ex-cuse me?"
"Sorry, the car in front of us slowed down and started to pull over." Percy laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair. "I almost hit her. I think it's an old lady, or something."
"Oh," Annabeth says and looks at the car in front of her. "Okay." They wait for a few seconds, and when it looks like the car is about to seriously pull over, Percy presses his foot against the pedal and starts to go around her.
"Have a nice ride la—." And Percy stomps on the brakes again when he sees the car rounding about his right side. Apparently, the old woman changed her mind, deciding to turn when Percy's car is half-way around hers. "What the fuck."
It didn't make it any better that the old woman was taking her sweet time turning.
"That old bitch, oh my gods. We could've died!"
Annabeth opens her mouth to say something like "No, we couldn't have. You would've dinged her left side" but Percy's angry honking disrupts her.
"You could've died, Annabeth!"
She sighs, him saying this a common occurrence. "Percy—"
"What's taking her so long? It's like—" Percy honks again, rolls down his car window and yells, "gooo! Move faster! Don't you know you're dying? Gooo!"
"Percy!" Annabeth says, appalled.
"What? It's true! Look, she stopped." Percy moves his head toward the window again and yells, "Yeah, you heard me! And I'll scream it again."
He moves his head back in the car. He takes a deep breath. Annabeth presses a hand against her face and sighs deeply. Percy moves his head back outside.
"YOU! ARE! DY—" Percy freezes. He looks at the old, crusty looking creature behind the wheel. Then, he looks towards a very pregnant but mostly annoyed Annabeth. Back to the monster. Now, to the wife. "I'm sorry. Have a nice day, ma'am," he says quietly to the monster. Head back in car, appendages fully intact, and hands on the wheel, Percy drives away quickly.
About a minute after the incident, Annabeth says, "I'm actually really proud of you."
"Huh?"
"You know, you totally could've yelled at the poor, old lady for a full five minutes, but you didn't."
"Oh." At least, Percy hopes it was a lady, hopes he got the gender right.
Annabeth nods and reaches over to give Percy a peck on the cheek. When Percy hears a grunt, he realizes Annabeth can't reach, so he leans over a bit.
"Thanks."
"No problem," and he grins at her.
"Eyes on the road, Jackson."
"Sorry," Percy says absent-mindedly, hands back on the wheel and eyes staring straight ahead. "Can't stop looking at you."
Annabeth groans, and Percy smiles even wider. A few more miles, and they'd be back to where it all began..
AN: look, i'm alive! i've been writing this since goddamn 2014 and i was just stuck. there will most definitely be chapters added later, and i figured by posting this bit would make me want to work on it more. originally, it was going to be a huge one-shot, but oh well. don't forget to r&r or whatever. i feel like is so ancient now. hot dang.