Mόnimos, a percy jackson and the olympians fanfic

Author's Note: I have suggested settings :-) For the best reading experience, try changing the font to Georgia, changing the story width to 1/2 and putting in some texture! Listening to Behind the Bars by Elliott Smith is optional too.

This was inspired by a tumblr post I saw a few weeks ago! It revolved around this question: "What if Annabeth went missing instead of Percy?"

Hope you enjoy! :-D Reviews are greatly appreciated.

*UPDATE [07/12/14] : So I recently read this Percabeth post about being codependent, and I realized that this is exactly that type of story that provokes those kinds of things to be explained. I'm very sorry if it seems like Annabeth is Percy's world or whatever in this fic, but that wasn't my intent. :-( I simply wanted to play on the possible psychological consequences that could come from Annabeth going missing, and I wanted to explore Percy's loyalty now that he'd found love. I'm sorry if this upsets people or ends up slightly OOC (because they aren't this co-dependent-but I promise I worked very hard to make everything very Percy like) but by all means, please proceed and enjoy! I worked very hard on this and I would appreciate it if you gave me criticism and reviews! :-)

"Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent."

Mόnimos

Week

Days

Hours

Minutes

Seconds

Annabeth had been gone for exactly one week, four days, two hours, thirty-six minutes and fifty-one— fifty-two… fifty-three…fifty-four…fifty-five

Seconds.

Percy had not seen her face in all that time—he hadn't touched her, kissed her, heard her voice… It had only been eleven days, but he already felt the anxiety eating up every inch of his being. Gods, they've both been missing before—Annabeth when she was forced to hold up the sky, and the two weeks he'd spent in Ogygia—but for some reason, it wasn't the same.

Now that he cleared up his feelings for her... right when he was finally ready to publicly showcase how much he cared...

She disappeared.

He felt like a hellhound bit off his sword arm.

He'd already been worried sick when she was kidnapped two years ago, feeling like he could vomit every single minute he realized she was gone, but now it felt like time was ticking away the pieces of his heart, forcing the veins, the nerves and the arteries to burst and crack him open at the seams.

He would find her, he had to find Annabeth—he'd made her so many promises, so many oaths, hopes and dreams, and he couldn't give up on her now.

Not when she needed him most.

Not when she was somewhere in this world, alive and breathing.

Not when they were onto something permanent.

Percy couldn't give up.

But his bones were tired, his eyes were strained and he couldn't even control a droplet of water in his state. He couldn't fall asleep for more than a couple of hours at a time since the nightmares had gotten a million times worse, so he could never shake off the exhaustion. And he was always looking for her, always on the lookout for his girlfriend with the princess curls and the bright grey eyes.

He didn't have time to rest.

"Where are you, Annabeth?" he whispered imploringly into his hands, perched on the edge of her bed in the Athena cabin. He began coming here a week before just to smell her clothes, her pillow—to find clues of why, where, and when—to feel her teddy bear, scan her notes and open her laptop.

He'd already become an honorary Athenian in his pursuit.

He came and went as he pleased, and the other campers stopped minding. Percy needed any part of her he could grasp—they didn't need any complex Athenian wisdom to know that—so they let him sleep in her bed when he wanted to.

Which wasn't very often.

He rarely slept.

No one bothered him when he sat alone in the Athena cabin, moping when he could've been teaching others how to sword fight. Not even Chiron attempted to bring him out of his reverie. No one dared to ask why his shoulders shook when he'd sit by the cabin porch with his head down, and no one could comfort him when he wept on his table in the mess hall.

No one questioned why he was always off on quests by himself in the morning, but why he'd come home late at night, clothes shredded and burned—eyes wild they seemed insane. No one asked why he focused relentlessly on leaving the camp to find lost things, rescue demigods, and why he tried to hard to smile.

No one questioned why he'd come home with scratches and gashes, why his invincibility didn't kick in as well as it used to.

He couldn't tell them it was because he'd been attacked in his weak spot—he'd been punched and stabbed in the one part that mattered: His heart, his heart that held Annabeth.

But he couldn't stop—he would never stop, not even when he was as vulnerable as a new born baby, not even when he could no longer raise his sword.

He would always be looking for her.

Always.

ᴪ

"It's really nice to be back," Annabeth muttered quietly beside him, hands warm and safe in his. They were swinging their arms in between them, mesmerized by the full moon that reflected on the sea like clear glass. They were barefoot on the sand, walking hand in hand like a normal couple would be expected to do.

"Certainly feels like home," Percy agreed, eyes shining as he looked at his girlfriend. They were back in Camp for Thanksgiving break, and it was just so nice to feel a bit… safe for once. Although the camp was still trying to recover from the war with Kronos, almost everything had been repaired and settled. Campers came and went from all parts of America, the grieving metamorphosed into honouring, and the anger pacified into relief.

It was almost peaceful.

Annabeth elbowed him gently. "Is it cause I'm here, Seaweed Brain?"

He flushed but managed to respond honestly. "Yeah, actually."

It was her turn to blush.

"Well then," she whispered, pausing to turn and face him. The moon was casting soft shadows across her face. "Home sweet home, huh?"

Percy just had enough time to nod before Annabeth tiptoed to kiss him. As usual, he felt himself melting into a puddle at her feet, and his brain stopped functioning altogether. Somewhere in between, he'd managed to hold her a bit closer, close enough for his arms to encircle her. She did the same, reaching up to hold his neck and lose her fingers in his hair.

The cool night made her shiver in their embrace.

Percy felt a whine on her lips, nevertheless, he broke their kiss and shrugged off his jacket. He wrapped it around her snugly and they headed back to the cabins, happier than they'd been in a while.

They paused just on her cabin's porch, hidden by the owl enigma's shadow on the first step. Percy was slightly shaking, though it wasn't from the cold.

"Annabeth," he smiled coyly, holding her hands in his. "H-Homes…"

"Yeah?"

"Homes are…" he tried again, but his tongue was failing him. This seemed to be happening a lot lately. "They're…"

In reply, Annabeth hugged him from the waist and kissed him. She didn't pull back after that—she just nestled her chin in between his collarbones and smiled up at Percy. Their noses were touching.

"Homes are permanent," she whispered, staring deeply into his eyes. "You're permanent."

He smiled and nodded again, pressing his lips to her forehead. She sighed contentedly in his arms, holding him just a bit tighter, just a few seconds longer, just a tad warmer.

"We're permanent," he said into her hair, and he waited until she was safely through the door before hopping into his own cabin.

ᴪ

"WHERE IS SHE?"Percy bellowed, arms raised as he held up thousands of gallons of water—fit for an Olympic sized pool—above the heads of a cluster of empousai. His muscles were already shaking in exertion and his legs were weak from kicking the demons until they surrendered, but his anger invigorated him.

The vampire women hissed in fear, hair dimming as they watched the son of Poseidon ask questions they didn't know answers to. "Wh-who is she?" one managed to inquire, but it only made Percy angrier.

"YOU KNOW WELL!" he cried, sending painful and heavy water droplets burning through the empousai. They whimpered as if the water were poison. "Annabeth—" His breath hitched. "ANNABETH CHASE!"

The half donkey demons were forced into a crazed frenzy. Just as it became clear to him that they didn't know a single thing, he dropped the toxic water load and killed thirty-three empousai without a single scratch.

ᴪ

"Miss me?"

Percy grinned as Annabeth opened her eyes and squealed. She tackled her boyfriend into a tight hug right on her bed, and they tangled themselves in her sheets. He was about to kiss her when she blocked his mouth with a palm.

"Ew, Seaweed Brain, I've got morning breath."

He walked with her to the communal bathroom in the cabin and waited by the door as she showered and brushed her teeth. Just last night, he'd come home from a particularly dangerous quest that required him to be gone for a couple of days. In the end, the twin Aphrodite boys managed to get to camp without a scratch, surviving a plane ride from Australia to America.

"Okay," Annabeth said as she walked out of the bathroom, squeezing the towel turban on her head. "You can kiss—"

He cut her off and pressed his lips to hers, swinging her off her feet in a circle, making the towel fall off her head. Australia had been great, not much monsters, but he really would've rather spent a week in some demon infested place with her by his side than have another easy quest without his Annabeth.

"Put me down, Percy!" she laughed, swatting him playfully as they went in circles. "Put me down!"

He conceded, dropping her on her bed with a 'fine' under his breath. They were lucky Athena campers were up early and allotted time for Annabeth to sleep in—it was nice to have some privacy.

"How was Australia?" she asked, playing with the gray strand on his head as he snuggled over the covers beside her.

"It was fine."

"Fine?"

"Yeah." He grinned, leaning on an elbow to look at her. "Would've been better if you were there."

Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink, and Percy's smile widened. "Oh, you're such a tease!" she hollered, hitting him with a pillow.

"Naw, I'm telling the truth!"

His hands reached out to grab her waist and hold her close—close enough to feel her heartbeat through their shirts. She gave up on the pillow fight and settled instead into his embrace, burying her face in his chest.

They were now face to face, and he could smell the lemon scent that always messed with his brain. She raised her head to lay it against his arm.

"Really?" Annabeth smiled, nuzzling his neck. "Hot girls didn't do it for you there?"

"You're the only hot girl for me," he murmured, kissing her cheek. "And I really won't take another quest if you're not gonna be there to back me up."

"Why?" she asked. She stopped breathing.

"I'm a lot stronger when you're there," Percy said simply, holding her tighter. "I don't have to check my back a hundred percent of the time because I know you won't leave. I trust you… I know you won't let me down. It's like you're perman—"

"I know," Annabeth cut him off and sighed into his neck. "And I always will be."

ᴪ

His fingers were the strings

And Khione was his puppet.

Percy defeated the giants and the boreads hours ago—it was almost too easy for him. He just slashed and slashed with Riptide, dodged the icy breaths and huffs, and rolled until every last one of them was obliterated into powdered snow. Every time a giant tried to hit him with their hands or with a weapon, they would bounce off as if a field prevented them from hurting Percy. They would curse at him, try to bash his head in with their clumsy fingers, but he would always act first. He would swing his sword in a wide arc as he taunted them, only stopping to pause for breaths. Percy would slip and slide under their large behinds until he would see a chink in their frozen armour and plunge deep into their thighs, their legs, smiling demonically every time a cry echoed the abandoned factory.

In a finish, Percy willed the gas tanks at the sides of the room to explode in a flourish, and the fifty or so Hyperboreans disintegrated as fire melted off their arms and legs.

He'd single-handedly defeated an army of giants.

"Tell me," Percy began with a wicked smile, flexing his fingers. He looked insane under the single light of the warehouse. "Why would the daughter of a titan appear all of a sudden in the middle of New York with an army backing her up?"

He managed to chain the snow queen by the neck, the shoulders and the ankles with iron links enchanted with Greek fire. She was stuck to the electric chair, struggling and sobbing against the burning metal that bit her skin in webs and made her bleed golden ichor. She shook her head, the tears freezing around her eyes before they could roll down her cheeks.

"You know," he whispered menacingly, but she shook her head again. Percy held an ounce of Gorgon's blood in front of her face—taunting her.

"You KNOW!" he screamed, and with the slightest motion, he forced the gorgon's blood down her throat, into her lungs, into her blood stream until she was shrieking and drowning on land. "YOU KNOW AND YOU WON'T TELL ME!"

Percy forced poison out of her system with a finger, his eyes wild as he watched her struggle under his will. He pushed it back and forth back and forth in and out in and out

Living

Then

Choking dying drowning

Killing

Living

Killing

torture

i n g

For answers.

"STOP!" She sobbed, her tears shining gold—she started crying ichor ten minutes ago.

It was only Percy's morals that forced him out of his rage. The blood stopped an inch from her nose.

"Stop," she pleaded, and once her fragile, broken voice cleared the anger out of his blood and the insanity from his eyes, he let go of the poison with a start and stepped back. "Please, stop."

He was ashamed.

He looked at her broken form, bleeding, freezing and burning, and he was so ashamed at what he had ended up doing. Torturing monsters left and right, capturing demons that were able to talk…

Percy was… not… he was… losing himself.

He used to think that he was killing two birds with one stone, saving demigod lives and finding Annabeth at the same time. But this… this—

Percy tortured a goddess for answers—he'd stooped so low. So low. It was inhumane, immoral, and he regretted every minute of it.

But he couldn't stop now.

"Khione, I'm s-sorry. I—" he whispered, looking at his hands. "I can't… I don't…"

"Just make it stop…" she sobbed as the Greek fire ate her up slowly. "Please—please."

"I need you to..." He couldn't look up, too horrified with what he had done. He'd become a monster. Shaking. "Do you… Do you know w-where she i-is?"

"I told you yesterday!" she wailed, shaking her head. Her hair was burning. "I don't know her! I've never e-even heard of her!"

"I-I'm sorry," Percy whimpered into his hands. "I'm so sorry."

Permanent, Seaweed Brain, a voice whispered inside his head.

We are permanent.

ᴪ

"Got space for another rider?" Annabeth grinned, popping her head through Blackjack's stable door. Percy's Pegasus usually hated being locked up, but with a promise of a whole week's supply of donuts, he'd given in to Chiron's request.

Percy was brushing down his wing with a soft wooden comb, enjoying himself. He loved his Pegasus, and although he usually didn't have time to pamper him, he used this opportunity to show his thanks. Oh, there—that spot, boss. Ooh! That's greeeat. He grinned as Blackjack neighed in appreciation, nodding at Annabeth before he stowed away the brush in the stable cabinet.

"Always have space for you, wise girl," he winked. He opened the stable door and let Annabeth in, kissing her cheek before speaking to his Pegasus.

Hey Blackjack, are you up for one little personal ride before the little kids use you like a taxi?

And get that pretty girlfriend of yours on my back? Sure boss! Besides… I think I might run away right after I get the donuts.

Percy grinned.

"Up you go, Annabeth." He looked over Blackjack's massive wing and helped her up the horse's back, using both hands to carry her up by her waist. Once she was settled, he climbed behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Are we galloping through waves, today, Percy?" She smiled, leaning back against him. She was nestled in between his arms.

"Anything you want," he murmured, urging his horse out of the stables. They ran through the forest, hair whipping in the wind, before Blackjack extended his dark wings and they were flying. Percy only hoped Annabeth loved being up in the air as much he did. With an excited squeal, he realized she did.

"There!" she shouted, pointing at the Long Island shore. They landed on the sand with a small thud, and Percy slid off Blackjack.

"Where are you going?"

"Just gonna try something." He smirked, nodding to his Pegasus.

You ready, dude?

Always, boss!

Okay, just like we practiced.

Without another word, Blackjack raced across the sea, his wings spread and his hooves splashing steadily against the water. It was… Pegasus water skiing.

"You doing this, Perce?"Annabeth beamed, turning her head to look at him. He flashed her a thumbs up before he started propelling the water to push him forward.

"This is amazing!"she cried, her hands raised and her blonde curls flapping against the wind and sea spray.

"Yeah," Percy muttered under his breath, ecstatic he could use his Son of Poseidon charms for something useful. "You are."

ᴪ

Closer, Blackjack, I need you to get closer! Percy screamed internally. They were almost there—they were seconds away, and he needed to make it right on—

Plop!

Whoa, sorry boss! I didn't mean to do that.

He shook his head. If he weren't invincible, he would have a large train sign sized dent on his head. Would've hurt like Hades too.

Percy exhaled and shakily stood on his Pegasus' back, reaching out to extend his sword towards the small, vulture-like creature that was flying through New York's complex subway. He needed to get that bird… he had to… if he could only just…

"Gotcha!" He grinned madly, using his sword hilt to hook the creature's legs back to him. Percy caught it with both hands, still wobbling as Blackjack glided through the dark tunnel, trying hard not to damage his wings against the rough brick walls. "Thought you were gonna get away—"

Boss, I still really don't think this is your style.

"Who are you to say that—" Percy said out loud without meaning to.

I mean—I really love the donuts, but I've been flying you off to weird places, and now you're capturing harpies? What's up, boss?

Percy gawked and lost his balance, about to fall face first onto the D track train. Luckily for him, the harpy was kind. With its small wings and beak, it was able to carry him long enough for Blackjack to recover and catch him on his back. He landed with a soft umph, as he watched the harpy fly away.

He didn't know what was up either—he just knew that he missed his girlfriend, and he had no idea where she was. He just wanted her back, he wanted her right by his side, laughing, smiling—the only reason he wanted that harpy was because it was saying these… these weird things about wisdom's daughter. And there was only one daughter of Athena that came to mind. Before Percy could settle his thoughts and scold himself for being cruel, horrible, and so pathetically desperate, Blackjack whinnied under him.

Boss! She's trying to say something!

Percy looked up at the Harpy as it fluttered out of the dark subway.

"The son… of…" it creaked, high-pitched voice echoing in the tunnels. "Beware, son of Neptune. Beware."

ᴪ

"I still can't believe you summoned a tsunami for a game of capture the flag, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth called out from his cabin's bathroom, wringing her hair in the sink. She took baths and washed up here now—she decided the two minute walk in her jammies was a decent enough price to pay for a nice, long, hot shower she could have alone.

Well, not necessarily alone… Percy was always there, talking to her, but she got the bathroom all to herself. It was refreshing.

Percy laughed on his bed, as dry as a twig. He was on the edge of his mattress, removing pieces of armour. "Hey—you guys weren't playing fair either!" He grinned as he stripped to his boxers, replaying the good fight they had just moments ago. His powers were usually the last resort—waves and storms were usually winning moves—just so the other team could play fair, but when you were tackled to the ground by your girlfriend who managed to distract you with kisses for at least ten minutes, he had to summon all he had to get that flag.

"It was fair," Annabeth called out, just as the shower began to pour. "I was simply using my charms."

"Well, you are my weakness—" he began, but was cut off by the sight of his girlfriend dripping wet in a towel.

"You can't," she breathed. "Gods, you can't joke about that, okay?"

"Wha—"

"I saw what happened… when Matthew elbowed you there and—and…" she trailed off. Percy didn't know what to do. She looked like she was about to cry, and he couldn't comfort her when she was close to wearing nothing. "You just crumpled. I d-didn't…"

Deciding on the lesser evil, he walked up to her and held her face. "It won't… It won't happen again," he smiled. "Not if you're on my team, right?"

She nodded. "But Percy… if that ever happens again, I want you summon the worst storm—"

"Yes," he reassured her, planting a small kiss between her eyes. "It'll be a storm worthy of Tyson's beating stick. Now go—the hot water's not a permanent fixture you know. A-And besides, er, you haven't, uh—got any clothes on."

ᴪ

"Percy!"

About five campers were knocking at Cabin three's door, slamming into the seashells and carved starfish as if nothing else mattered.

The boy woke with a start, sitting up as his nightmare ended in death—thankfully, thankfully,

It was his death.

Thunder boomed in the sky and lightning flashed outside his window, and the sheer curtains did nothing to hide the view of the camp from inside. It was raining—storming inside Camp Half Blood! Who could—

"PERCY! Please wake up!"It was Chiron's voice that forced him out of his stupor. With a jolt, he jumped out of his bed and ran to the door, using his will to unlock the water key that protected his cabin from anyone who wasn't a child of the sea god—except for… except for

Annabeth.

Who had the special key.

Annabeth.

She was gone, she was gone, gone, gone. Percy didn't know where she was, if she was even alive. He had to find her, he had to keep his promise. They were permanent—they were forever, and gods, he loved her. He loved her so much it hurt. He loved her so much he hated himself for not saying it soo n e r—

The thunder boomed, loud enough to shake the glass in the windows. Lightning flashed, and the rain poured in buckets.

Annabeth, who had taken a knife for him. Annabeth who was always so patient, who trusted him, who he trusted. Now he couldn't find her. She was gone she was gone she was gone she was gone

"PERCY, YOU MUST OPEN THIS DOOR, RIGHT THIS INSTANT!"

Startled, he unlocked the door in a hurry, shaking as he turned the knob. The campers on the other side, however, were too anxious to get out of the rain. They pushed the door inwards, making Percy stumble and fall to the floor and curse.

"Di immortales,"Katie Gardner muttered as she entered the cabin, backed up by Will Solace, the Stolls, Pollux and Clarisse. Chiron was right behind them, bracing against the strong winds in his centaur form.

Clarisse offered him a hand—something he hadn't expected. "Stand up, you little snot," she growled half-heartedly, pulling him up and brushing dust off his shirt and boxers. Although she usually wanted to beat him up, it seemed like she was just forcing herself to look that way right now. He could see a flash of… sadness and pity in her eyes.

"Uh, hey, man," Will said, walking towards him with his hands raised, and the Stolls closed the cabin door right after Chiron galloped in. "I-I'm really sorry about Annabeth." His voice cracked in the end, and Percy felt himself cracking as well. He didn't want their pity—but he needed it. Everything was just so confusing. His stomach knotted and his emotions were arguing with his head.

"We all are," Connor offered. "But…" Percy backtracked and fell on his bed, staggering as he righted himself up and buried his head in his hands.

"But Percy, my—my crops are being destroyed," Katie stepped in, sitting on his bed to wrap a comforting arm around him. "The strawberry fields… they can only take so much beating up."

"And the kids," Travis said as he leaned against the door. His typical Hermes smirk was nowhere to be seen, and that troubled Percy. The Stolls always smiled, even in last summer's battle. "They're scared, man. The thunder and the lightning freak them out."

"Wha—" Percy began, the storms weren't his fault, but Will cut him off.

"We only have so much hot chocolate to offer." He smiled sadly. "And the poetry doesn't really help much."

Percy was so confused. What were they implying?

"All were saying is," Pollux stepped in, sitting on the bed opposite his. "The storms gotta stop, bud."

"The s-storms?" Percy questioned. "That—I didn't—"

Katie rested her head against his shoulder. "Percy, Camp grounds are weather regulated. Nothing outside can come in, remember?"

"The storm is contained within the dorm perimeter of camp." Pollux frowned, more sad than angry. "Like an inverted umbrella."

"And, uh, they started right when—" Connor began, and Travis finished his sentence. "A-Annabeth went missing."

Chiron hadn't said a word until then. "Percy… listen," he said calmly, and gently. He'd always been patient. "Now that you've woken and are, erm, in control somehow, the storm is calming."

Percy's ears picked up only the gentle pitter patter of drizzle in his cabin, and he couldn't brace himself to understand.

"H-how long?" he asked gently, unable to look at any of his friends in the eyes. For some reason, he already knew the moment he saw the rain pour from his window, but he didn't want to believe it.

To his surprise, Clarisse bent down and kneeled in front of him. "Fifteen days, bugger," she frowned. "Well, sixteen now."

"Gods,"he cried. When he wasn't out losing his mind and torturing goddesses, he was hurting his friends. "Gods, I—"

"No need to be sorry," Clarisse muttered, and to his surprise, she rubbed his back.

"We really understand," Katie said, not leaving his side. "We just—we'll find her, okay?"

"For now, we'd just really like to ask if you could hold the storms down a bit," Will said kindly, patting his shoulder. "We don't know if you could stop it or what, but we thought telling you might help somehow."

"Even when you were in the Athena cabin," Travis said, "We tried to calm you down, but you would never wake up."

"We just want you to know that you're not alone in this, okay?" Clarisse hadn't gotten up from her spot in front of him. "We'll find Princess—don't you worry about it."

"You were supposed to go home two weeks ago, your mom's worried," Will said. "And you always leave and go back here wounded—"

"We know how much she means to you, Percy," Katie whispered. "But you don't have to go through this alone. "

"Annabeth—she's also our friend," Connor piped up. "Just tell us what to do and we'll do anything to help."

Percy slumped in his bed. Gods, he didn't know how much these people cared. A part of him was eating at his conscience, nagging him. If Annabeth were here—if she were here, she'd beat him up for beating himself up. If he were ever to find her, he had to be in peak condition. And he was going to find her, no matter what.

Still, the caring and kind words of his friends invigorated him. Whatever made him think he was alone in this? He had one whole camp to back him up—Annabeth was everyone's friend, a leader as much as he was, and they missed her too. She was the only who could ever beat him at knife fighting, and her cabin was struggling in the capture the flag. Plus, he could never bring himself to do all the paperwork.

"Guys," Percy said with a shaky breath, finally looking up. He was met with concerned faces, and it broke his heart. They cared—they really cared. "I just—" even if he was destroying crops and scaring everyone with his storms, they still came and supported him. Gods, what would he do without them? "Thank you… thank you."

One by one, they clapped his back, and Katie kissed his cheek. Once his friends were out the door, Chiron stayed.

"Percy," he started. "I wanted to tell you sooner, however, your instability might've worked against you in this situation—but she is alive. Annabeth is alive and well."

Percy released a breath he was holding—he'd always known she was alright, but it was still so wonderful hearing some kind of confirmation. His heart leaped in hope, and his eyes shone. "Do you—do you know where she is?" He was so sure it would be too much to ask for, but he persisted.

"I'm sorry, I don't, but…" he hesitated. "But Rachel knows who is responsible," Chiron said softly, slowly, as if not to provoke him.

He got to his feet, anger and hope melting together in his heart. "Who?" Percy demanded. "Who?"

"Hera," Chiron said. "It's Hera."

ᴪ

"It's just… there w-was a spi-spider under my b-bed and Aaron d-didn't—"

Groggy and grumpy, Percy pat the space beside his king sized bed with a flourish. "C'mere," he grumbled, beckoning her to sleep beside him.

"A-are you—"

"I'll go on top of the covers if you—" he began to say, already about to stuff his face into his pillow, but Annabeth plopped beside him and snuggled under the covers and into his arms with her back to his chest.

Percy almost jolted awake, but his exhaustion paved only little way for excitement. He smiled into her hair—lemony and sweet—

"Thanks, Seaweed Brain," she murmured, twisting slightly to give him a kiss on the mouth. "You smell like home."

"You are my home." His sleepy grin was inevitable. "I can be yours if you'd like."

"You got any spiders hidden in your walls?" Annabeth squeaked, turning fully so she faced him. His eyes were already closed.

"Don't think so."

"Great," she whispered, settling into his chest. Her eyes fluttered shut. "You'll be perfect."

ᴪ

"HERA!" Percy shouted as soon as he stepped into Olympus. There was no music in the air, no chatting, but he didn't notice that. He was too busy calling out the queen of the gods. "HERA!"

No one met him, no one called him out for disrespecting their queen. He rampaged and whined to an empty city, kicking plants and causing fountains to erupt with a blink of his eye. Not even Poseidon told him to stop.

He realized something was wrong minutes too late.

"Hera!" he called out again, snapping and causing a fountain just in front of the marble columned throne room to explode. "FACE ME, YOU OLD COW!" Percy hoped that would elicit even a reaction out of some of the minor gods, but no one called him out. It was when he broke the sphinx statue in front of the doors by accident that he heard the screams coming from the large room.

If the gods were ignoring him on purpose—if he so happened to see one god making fun of how much he was willing to give just to find Annabeth, so help him, he will summon all he had and probably end up signing his own death wish.

He would find her—and they needed to give him answers. She'd been gone for almost a month now, and all he knew was that she was alive. Not a word of where she was—or what she was doing.

If he had to rip their thrones off with bloody hands, he would do it. If he had to sit on every single one of their thrones and be blasted, it would be done with pride. There was nothing he wouldn't do—he faced armies, killed hellhounds, giants, harmed and tortured creatures for answers—there was little left for him to do. Besides, he still had the energy to take down a hundred or more fountains.

Percy peeked inside the room and managed to hold back a shout. The gods—he didn't understand, but something was wrong. Something was very wrong—

"Perseus," a gentle voice greeted him and tugged at his hand. Lady Hestia. "You must go back—you must go back to camp. You will find answers."

He tried to let go, but her eyes burned brightly and she closed the huge doors behind her without hands. "The world is in danger—you must save it, Perseus Jackson."

"But—"

"She—Annabeth Chase, the girl you seek, she will help you. In time. Now, you must go!"

Percy found himself inside Cabin three in a blink, and Chiron banged on his door right when he settled back into his own body.

Camp Half-Blood had some visitors.

ᴪ

She wasn't there when he woke up.

She—

The sheets were tangled, the bed rumpled so he knew she was there last night but she wasn't there Annabeth wouldn't leave without saying goodbye without his usual kiss on the cheek without rumpling his hair and telling him to brush his teeth

"Annabeth?" he called out, and he knew. Oh gods he felt something was wrong. He checked in the bathroom, his whole cabin, her cabin, in all the other cabins and in the canoe lake and the beach and the strawberry fields the arena the forest the mess hall the tree under the stables under the tables in the pyres at the bottom of the sea

"Annabeth?"Percy cried, and his heart was suddenly beating and cracking right in the middle. He felt it and he knew. He knew and he felt it. His head knew, his eyes saw, his stomach floated with a million wasps, but his heart—his heart could not believe, could not stand it if—"ANNABETH?"

Hours

He was still shirtless and barefoot in his Finding Nemo boxers, but no one could laugh. No one could laugh as they watched their brave, funny, caring leader crash and burn and fall and cry and cry and cry out

"ANNABETH?"

They were supposed to be permanent and he was her home and what was happening? Why was? Who was? Where is? Why did? Who did? Is she? When was? When did?

Who took her?

"A-Ann-Annabeth?"

ᴪ

Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano did not remember much.

What if Annabeth— his heart lurched.

She is a Roman.

Is Annabeth—he breaks.

In New York.

She's in—

Percy is grabbing her shoulders, the girl with the long, dark hair and flashing eyes. She's all angles, and planes and mysterious and all

Percy

Wants

Know

Where

Annabeth

"WHERE is she?"

She cowers but manages a slap to his face. "I have no idea who you're talking about!" He doesn't even flinch.

"Annabeth!"he pleads, staring her down imploringly. He hasn't let go of her shoulders, and people are crowding. They're telling him to step away, to let go, but it's been months, months, months since he'd

she must know, she must know, she was sent here to replace her—

"Where is—"

ᴪ

Annabeth is in New Rome.

The sea of people parts as he walks down the aisle with his heart in his throat and… she remembers she remembers she has to remember

Suddenly, he is no longer walking

He's sprinting

Running

Breathing

Leaping

Scampering

Dashing

TOUCHING

twisting

holDING

her like he's never held her in his life.

Percy is crying and Annabeth is crying and the whole world has come to stop to watch their spectacle… the reunion of love so deep it bloodies hands and changes the weather patterns. The people, they don't know their story, but they feel it—they feel his eyes take in every inch of her with thirst, they feel the way her breath hitches as she drinks in every part of him—their hearts are beating so loudly, so openly, that they are inviting people to look into their souls.

And those who don't feel can see.

They see the way his hands wrap around her waist as he twirls her around, they see the way they are smiling and crying because they are relieved and so, so utterly in pain,because sometimes the stitches hurt more than the cut. They see the purple toga flying behind her in an array of freedom and happiness, purple and orange clashing just like the ocean and lemon mingling and mixing together. They can see the picture and the words on the plaque that accompany it:

He found her.

He found her.

She holds his face in between his hands, and she can't wait to tell him that "You were the only thing I remembered." That "You were the only thing left of me." That "You were the face I first remembered and could never forget." That "I only fought on because I was scared to lose you." That

"We are permanent," she cries into his face, her lips wet but still kissing every inch of him she could reach. She's shaking and he is too, but he doesn't let go—he can't let go. Not ever, not anymore.

They kiss so passionately, so emotionally and lovingly that the audience is enraptured, frozen by the scene unfolding before them. Percy sets her down after breaking and shattering in her arms, and Annabeth caresses his hair with fingers he so tenderly missed.

"Shh," she murmurs into his cheek, trying to calm him down. It works like a spell—they hiccup. Her fingers are still in his hair, stroking and touching his head until he could believe that this is not a dream, that he's back home, and she's on the front porch about to ring the doorbell. "Shhh."

"A-Annabeth," he says, and in that one word, he is able to convey all his sufferings and his brokenness into every inch of her. She will fix him. She will glue the pieces of his heart back together; staple his humanity back into place. His nose is against her cheek, and he can't stop shaking, breathing and holding her close. He is unable to let go, and he just wants to make up for months lost. Months that made him lose his mind, his self—but he's sure, he's sure that she will fix him. She will do everything in her power to set him right again, because that's what they do—they do everything for each other.

"We're permanent." He nods, and she wipes the tears that fall out the corner of his eyes.

His thumbs are on her cheeks, brushing against the tears that fall out the corner of her eyes.

"Permanent."

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Months

Week

Days

Hours

Minutes and

Seconds

Mόnimos, the phonetic pronunciation of permanent (μόνιμος) in Ancient Greek.