This is somewhat of a drabble. If you aren't into that then it's not my problem. Very fluffy, very sad. A twist at the end. A typo here and there too, I guess. Enjoy!
I'll unfold before you
What I've have strung together
The very first words
Of a lifelong love letter
-Sara Bareilles, I Choose You-
. . .
I want this to begin with the normal 'dear Annabeth' but that seems generic.
My love—wait no, too British. Sweetheart—too southern. Hon—too Drew, and NO ONE wants to be like her. I never thought writing a letter like this would actually be hard, but my hands are seriously shaking right now.
Dear Wise Girl (that seems right),
It's been a long time since I met you. I remember dragging Grover over into Camp Half-Blood and passing out in front of the Big House. Did you know that when I saw you fir the first time, I thought you looked like a princess? I feel like I may've told you this before, but the memory loss is kicking in. It's not my fault.
And then we went on all of those insane quests. Damn, did we go on quests. And then there was that stupid prophecy and I thought I was actually going to die, and you were the only person who was trying to kick some sense into me. Thanks for that. I was such a loser. I should've just kissed you the moment I finished reading it.
Ha, that would've been a scene for our friends to see. I bet you would've slapped me.
We survived that and stopped Kronos and we dated, and then the Royal Bitch Hera messed all of that up and off I went to California. But even back then, I loved you so much that I actually only remembered you, the entire time. You were what gave me the motivation to keep going.
Then we defeated Gaea too—like what? And on top of that we went to Tartarus together and survived. We are freaking awesome, Annabeth.
It was nice though to go back to school and just date like normal people. And senior prom was just all kinds of epic. I went to your school, nervous as hell, and all of your friends wouldn't leave me alone. They asked some weird questions.
College. College, college, college. I didn't like college. You did. Why? Books or something like that. I'll never understand.
We stayed in New York and bought an apartment together, and for a few years we both worked as much as we could. We dated and lived and loved. I. . . work was weird at that time. I just volunteered at Camp and trained the young people. You had the legit job.
Eventually I worked up the courage to propose to you. Nearly pissed myself, mind you. But I will never regret that move. We both cried that night, but in a good way. I think Mom cried the most of all of us.
Then we get married and had our honeymoon. Best. Time. Ever. You're hair was partially up and curled everywhere, and you wore the spotless white dress that was so long I was surprised you didn't trip. Then again, you've always been super agile. Your dad was a hot mess, just like my mom. Poseidon and Athena actually showed up briefly and managed not to fight.
Two years later, after everything had settled down, you were pregnant with Caroline, our daughter. She was beautiful, and looked just like a baby you with her blonde hair and gray eyes. She is absolutely perfect, just like you. And then the three of us were a family. She was the only child we had because we were afraid of the monsters hurting her.
The monsters. Oh snap, crackle, and pop, I forgot about the monsters. There weren't as many but they were everywhere. We were always watching behind our backs afraid for each other's lives.
Caroline grew up and matured beautifully. Remember when she introduced us to her first boyfriend? You almost put a knife to his neck. That was bad, but I calmed you down. Then he put his feet up on our white couch and I about pulled Riptide out on him.
Hey, it wouldn't have hurt him. He was as mortal as they get.
Soon she went to Camp too so that she could train. She's better than us, and now she has to defend us.
But years passed by and we all got old and Caroline got engaged and married. Right now we are eight five and still fighting at times. We're strong, but Caroline has to keep a close eye on us and our New York apartment, just to make sure that monsters haven't done away with us yet. But now we have other more mortal problems, like cancer and loss of eyesight and hearing.
It's been a good life.
I'm reminding you of all of these things because I'm not sure if you do remember. Recently you're memory has been a little faulty. I could never truly forget them, and I know you never will either. Consider this a trigger.
I want to quote a little bit from a poem called the Dash by Linda Ellis. As you know, I am not one for literature of any sort. But this poem was read at Mom's funeral, if you remember that, and it's always stuck with me. I managed to print a copy of it and keep it in my wallet at all times. I won't waste your time with the whole thing, but this is the important part.
I read of a man who stood to speak
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on the tombstone
from the beginning…to the end.
He noted that first came the date of birth
and spoke the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
that they spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved them
know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own,
the cars…the house…the cash
What matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.
And I just want to say that every single moment has been worth it. Every fight for freedom had a point to it because of you. Every hardship was better with you by my side.
Annabeth, I am so grateful to have been a part of your life. I hope you feel the same about me.
As I write this, you are asleep. I hope you're only asleep. Yeah, you are. I felt your pulse. And we are old now, and though monsters haven't killed us, disease may. I just wanted to write this letter, because even though I'm terrible with words, I'm worse when it's said verbally.
I love you, Wise Girl. This has been a good life. Forever and always,
Percy.
. . .
Annabeth's hands shook as she put the letter down. The attorney looked at her. "Do you need a moment, ma'am, or would you like to go over the rest of your husbands will?"
But Annabeth didn't hear these words. Her thoughts were of Percy. His funeral had passed, his ashes had been scattered in the sea, and his shroud had been burned at Camp. But no one had moved on yet. No one ever would. Percy had been one of those people that changed lives. He'd changed Annabeth's.
She smoothed her hand over the white paper and imagined Percy up late one night, forgetting his medication, unable to sleep, and just writing down this letter to give to her after he died. Yet Annabeth didn't feel tears.
Despite the finality of the love letter, Annabeth smiled at their long life together.