Annabeth didn't fall apart. She worried and planned and cursed the gods, but she didn't fall apart. She never sat in her cabin, crying and looking at old photos. She never walked around aimlessly, completely heartbroken. She could live without Percy; she had done it before. That didn't change the fact that she cared about him, though.
She was scared, but never for herself. She got angry, but life didn't stop. She constantly pushed forward, knowing that each passing day meant she was a day closer to him. In the back of her mind, she knew he may not remember her, but that wouldn't matter if she never found him.
She never became a helpless little girl, not even as the Argo II approached Camp Jupiter. She was prepared. She was aware. She was slightly worried, but she was a daughter of Athena. She always had a plan. Logic and reason trumped emotion and desire.
She knew she might break if she got there and Seaweed Brain didn't want her for one reason or another, but the state would be temporary. She would pick up the pieces and glue them back together, just as she had done many times before. She still prayed to Aphrodite. Just because she could do all this didn't mean she wanted to.
She was Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena. She did not lie down. She did not give up.
She was a fighter.
A/N: Because I'm sick and tired of all the fanfictions out there in which the author mistakes Annabeth for Bella.