i.
Annabeth is five and she's just gotten a bicycle. Her dad's teaching her how to ride it, and she's excited, so excited. Her father's warm hand is steady on her back, and she sits ramrod straight on the small seat. Her feet barely touch the pedals, but she doesn't care, not when the wind is whipping through her hair and her dad is laughing as he runs right beside her. Not when she's happy.
They halt to a stop at the end of the street, and Annabeth smiles breathlessly up at her equally breathless father. "Again!"
"Again?" He laughs, still holding onto her as he wipes the sweat off his forehead.
Annabeth nods, fixing her large gray eyes on her dad. "Please?"
"Alright," He relents, preparing himself for another run. "But this time I'll get you started, and you try, okay?"
Annabeth's lips set in a determined line. Even at five, she's competitive and up for a challenge. "Okay."
Her dad breaks out into a run and Annabeth pedals, gripping the handlebars as the sensation of freedom takes hold once more.
And then he lets go, and she's coasting, coasting, moving. Her foot slips on the pedal, and with a piercing cry, it happens.
Before she even has time to think, which is pretty hard to do, because Annabeth's a quick thinker, always has been, she's face down on the pavement, and her knee is scratched and bloody.
"Annabeth!" Her father runs, fast as the wind, towards her. "Annabeth!"
All Annabeth can focus on is the angry red pooling on her knee, the stickiness on her elbow, and the pain that's growing and growing.
Tears prick at her eyes and she sniffles, pushing her messy blonde hair away with her dirty hand.
"Sh, sh, it's ok." Her father picks her up, sits her on the curb. He dries her tears and lets her hop on his back, piggyback style. "You're my brave little girl."
ii.
Her small hands are clutched tight on the hilt of the dagger Luke had given her, and her short legs stumble as she tries to keep up with the much longer strides of the fourteen year-old boy and Thalia. She's tired, so tired, but she knows they need to keep going. Luke says so, but the scary monsters they had left behind say so too.
But she lags farther and farther behind, and it's only when Thalia notices she's not behind her that the two of them stop.
"Annabeth?" Luke calls, his voice taught with worry as he jogs towards her.
"I'm tired," She whispers, every step feeling like she's sinking deeper and deeper into the ground.
"Come on Annabeth," He urges. "We're almost at the safe house. Just another mile."
Annabeth's exhausted, but she nods. Safety is important. She struggles to walk faster, keeping up with Luke's pace as they reach Thalia.
"Are you alright?" The older girl peers down at Annabeth, her electric blue eyes filled with concern.
Annabeth nods, but it ends up lulling to the right and to the left, before she's able to jerk herself back awake.
"She's tired," Luke says, in such a way that Annabeth knows that he is too. He's just better at hiding it. "We're almost there though. We'll make it."
Thalia glances behind them and stiffens.
"Do you hear that?"
A slight rustle of leaves, the snapping of a branch, and then –hissing. Loud, shivery hissing.
Annabeth is awake, alert now, and Luke and Thalia are armed and ready. Thalia taps her silver bracelet and out jumps her shield, Aegis, Thalia calls it. Luke's sword is raised and threatening.
"Annabeth, go, hide in the bushes." Luke hisses as his eyes narrow and he surveys the scene for any sign of the sure-to-be monster.
Annabeth scowls; she wants to fight. But she obeys Luke anyways, scurrying into the brush where she can get a clear view of the power duo, as she's dubbed them.
They stand next to each other, Luke facing front and Thalia facing back. A twig snaps to the left and both of their eyes are immediately there.
Hissing, hissing again. A huge monster bursts into the clearing, and in a blink of an eye, the two of them are slashing and hacking, and running and jumping, stabbing and growling. Thalia's spear is the first to get knocked to the ground, and as she rolls over to grab it, the monster lashes forward, and snaps up the spear in one gigantic gulp. Eyes wide in terror, Thalia steps back, slowly. Luke is yelling at her to get out of the way now, flying in and out of the battle with quick thrusts and lashes.
The monster bellows and belches as it thrusts its body towards Luke and Annabeth goes into panic mode. Scrambling for her knife, she darts towards the fight, adrenaline rushing and her ADHD instincts rushing in.
Thalia spots her and cries out a quick "No!" but Annabeth pays her no mind. It's all instinct as she sprints as fast as her legs can take her and all but jump the monster. Luke yells, but it's all a blur as Annabeth twists her body so that she can sink the knife into the monster's skin.
It growls at her, and startled, she drops, but Luke is there, and catches her. "Annabeth! Stay away!"
This time, she listens, shutting her eyes and running back to her hiding spot. Thalia has retrieved her knife and has resumed fighting.
The two work in a routine pattern, and Annabeth feels exhausted again, her eyelids drooping and her muscles aching, and she can feel herself drifting…
Strong arms lift her up but she's in too deep and is drooping too far.
"You're the bravest person I know," Luke whispers in her ear as he shifts her onto his back and she automatically wraps her arms around his neck.
And she smiles.
iii.
At sixteen, Annabeth is confused. She's confused about where she might stand. She's confused about her feelings, her feelings about Percy, about Luke, about herself.
But as she and Percy drop into the battle below, Annabeth isn't confused. She's in her territory, battle. She's comfortable.
Annabeth can feel Percy shift beside her and she can imagine his eyes narrowing. The Minotaur is ahead, the first monster he had ever fought.
She remembers when they were twelve, more vividly than she'd like to admit. He'd killed the Minotaur before he'd even known he was a demigod.
Percy Jackson.
The strongest demigod she'd ever met.
Also, quite possibly, one of the densest.
The two of them are back to back, their familiar starting position. "Ready, Seaweed Brain?" Annabeth mutters, if only to lighten the mood.
"Always am, Wise Girl," He shoots back, and Annabeth bites back a grin.
It's then that Percy charges, and Annabeth knows better than to stop him. He goes straight for the Minotaur, and she surveys the rest of the army.
It's not looking good, but when is it ever? Hellhounds and drachnae and other monsters stand at attention, spears bristling and eyes watching the battle that's going on.
Annabeth finally turns her attention back to Percy, just in time for her to see the Minotaur falling off the bridge, turning to dust along the way.
Percy's unscathed- his jeans are a little ripped and his hair mussed, but for the most part, he's okay. They only have his lovely swim in the Styx to thanks.
"Percy." Annabeth says his name, and his eyes snap towards her. She gestures towards the rest of the army, and approaching is Luke.
Not Luke. Kronos, now.
Her heart twists as she remembers back to last summer, when Luke had come to her, begging for help. Pleading.
She'd been his last chance at life.
But her jaw tightens and her knuckles whiten as she grips her knife and narrows her eyes. The two look at each other and nod, knowing what they're doing. Annabeth pulls her baseball cap onto her head, and she vanishes, running swiftly within the enemy lines, stabbing, lashing, thrusting, her knife into monsters' backs.
The sounds of a battle ring loud and clear, screams, growls, the swift arcs of arrows and the clangs of swords.
It's instinct for her now, and she goes through the motions, fighting, surprising, barely watching as each monster turns to dust, their essence returned to Tarturus, where hopefully, they will wait for hundreds of years to reform.
But they've overreached. They've gone too far, and she nudges Percy.
He has a manic glint in his eye, and she knows, she knows he won't stop.
"Percy!" She yells. Angry.
He ignores her, surging forward.
And then. There's a shape, a shadow next to him, behind him. And Annabeth recognizes him as Ethan Nakamura, son of Nemesis. He has a knife, and he's poised, poised to thrust it right into a spot near the small of Percy's back.
Annabeth couldn't tell you where the feeling came from, but come it did. She senses he's in danger- although impossible, Percy has Achilles' curse, he's almost invulnerable.
Except. Except in one place.
Annabeth sprints, sprints towards the two, and right when Ethan thrusts down, Annabeth intercepts the knife with her own body.
It sinks into her arm and it's as if a million tiny fireworks have just exploded. The fiery feeling spreads and Annabeth feels nauseous, weak. She slumps to the ground but Percy catches her.
It goes black.
It must be hours later, but Annabeth finally opens her eyes, her mouth dry and her entire body sore.
But her arm most of all.
Just then, the door is opened, and two figures slip through. One is familiar, the other, not so much.
"Percy."
"Annabeth!" He rushes towards her. "Gods, you scared me."
She laughs weakly, placing her hand on his cheek. When has she ever had this much nerve? "You're cute when you're worried."
Will Solace, the other figure, steps forward, and inspects her arm closely. The way he pales is a sure sign of how bad it is.
Percy silently hands Will a bottle of nectar, still clutching Annabeth's hand tightly.
When Will leaves, Percy kneels down and brushes Annabeth's hair out of her face. "You had me so worried."
A silence. Then-"How did you know?"
"Know what?" Annabeth is fighting exhaustion now, but she hangs onto his every word.
"My weak spot. If he'd stabbed me, I would have died." Percy says softly.
"So you owe me. What else is new?" Annabeth chuckles, but it lies flat. "Where is it?"
Another pause. Then Percy shifts, grabs her hand, and lifts up his shirt. He places her hand on his cool skin, and slowly guides it to a single spot on the small of his back. He stiffens as her fingers trace it.
She lets her hand drop, and Percy grabs it again. Nothing is said between them, but as Annabeth is drifting slowly, slowly, slowly, away-
"Gods, you stupid, brave girl."
iv.
It's not so much a falling sensation as it is a flying sensation. Annabeth squeezes her eyes shut, but it's not the only thing she squeezes.
Her hand is tightly intertwined with Percy's, agreeing with her heart- please, don't leave me again.
She doesn't know how long, how long they've been in this freefall, but she's not exactly excited to get to the bottom.
Annabeth feels Percy squeeze her hand, as if to reassure her, and she turns her head slightly- his mussed black hair is the only thing she sees.
And then they land. Quite painfully.
It feels like every bone in her body is shattered, and her muscles have turned to jelly. Her brain is fuzzy and when she tries to get up, she's dizzy with pain. A groan comes from her left and she can only imagine Percy isn't faring much better.
"Percy," She manages to croak out.
He only groans once again, and shakily sits up. "Annabeth."
She was so stupid! One quick swipe of her knife- and they wouldn't be here.
But she'd been so relieved, so grateful, so elated to see Percy and all of their friends, that she hadn't noticed the silk wrapped tightly around her ankle- until she was falling.
And Percy. The stupid, stupid Seaweed Brain. He should have let her go. Now they were both here, because of her idiotic mistake.
"If you're going to say anything about me letting you go, don't even start." Percy must be psychic. "You're not getting away from me that easily."
Annabeth opens her mouth to protest, but Percy cuts her off again. "You're never leaving me again."
Annabeth sighs and winces when she shifts and puts weight on her bad ankle. She presses her lips against Percy's and pulls away. "Stupid, stupid."
"Hey, stop beating yourself up over this. Besides, we've got some doors to find." Percy teases, trying to lighten the mood. Annabeth just gives him a small smile and pulls herself up, contorting her face in pain when she accidentally puts too much weight on her bubble-wrapped leg. Percy supports her, holding her steady, even though he isn't much better himself.
"Let's go, Wise Girl," He mutters, engulfing her in a hug. He smells like the sea, like home, even now, when they were in the deepest pits of hell.
Literally.
She's brave, Annabeth thinks, trying to reassure herself. She was brave at five, she was brave at seven, brave at sixteen.
Brave now.
She can do it.
They can do it.
Percy turns towards her again, and kisses her on the cheek. "Or should I make that Brave Girl?"
Annabeth swears he's gained a new ability, and she's not sure if she likes it.
Her only response is to lean closer and softly press her lips against his. They mold into the kiss, and it just feels so right.
My brave little girl. The bravest person I know. Gods, you stupid, brave girl. Brave Girl.
Her lips curve into a small smile as the words swirl in her mind, reminding her of the people she cares most about.
I am, she thinks. I am brave.