Chapter One: Details, Details
"My own brain to me is the most unaccountable of machinery - always buzzing, humming, soaring, roaring, diving, and then buried in mud. And Why? What is all this passion for?"
-Virginia Woolf
Annabeth stood on a small stool in the empty back room of the beautiful chapel, the warm morning sun peeking through the windows placed behind the mirror she was examining herself in. Small children squealing and running around in the rich, green grass a little ways from the house, their parents drinking champagne out of tall glasses, laughing as the bubbly drink intoxicated them slowly, lightly scolding their kids to not get grass stains on their nice light clothing. Annabeth sighed, staring longingly out the window, she knew the nice sun would feel so good on her cold skin. It had to be only forty degrees in the room, goosebumps resting on her arms, her fingers feeling numb. She was literally getting cold feet.
She smoothed down the invisible wrinkles on her white gown, breathing deeply and pretending the pounding in her chest was from excitement, not dread. This is her wedding day, she should be happy, nervous, even. Instead, she felt dead inside. Annabeth looked up to face her reflection in the long mirror in front of her, and sucked in a breath once she caught sight of herself. The dress was beautiful; long, flowing down to the floor, hiding her frostbitten toes. White lace tulle that created the longest train going on for miles, connecting to her torso, on which was a white, strapless corset with a sweetheart neckline. But it felt unnatural.
The top was too heavy, it kept falling and she constantly had to pull it up by the corset. Speaking of which was too tight, making it hard to breath. And breathing was already sort of a problem for her.
Annabeth's reflection stared back at her, taunting her with it's perfection. Her hair sat upon her head in a half-up half-down hairstyle, gorgeous curls reaching down her back, swaying every time she moved her head. Her makeup was professionally done, making her face feel stiff and awkward. Her eyelids felt glued open and she was afraid of touching her face, scared her eyebrows might fall off in the process.
But everything was just wrong.
Annabeth held back tears as she looked at herself. Nineteen years old and already getting married. She wondered if she was making the right decision, if marrying her soon-to-be husband was something she would love or deeply regret. The panic set in her head and she stepped down from the small stool, legs shaking. With bare feet (though she couldn't feel it, it was far too cold), she rushed to the small dining table on the other side of the room, sitting down on one of the chairs and breathing heavily.
Tears started forming in her eyes.
He'll be there everyday for the rest of your life.
She choked back a sob.
He'll be the father of your kids.
She gasped, clutching her stomach in fear of throwing up.
This day will bind you together, forever. There is no more going back, Annabeth.
She put her elbows on the table and placed her forehead in the palm of her hands. She was determined not to cry. Thoughts of wedding bells, of seeing him standing next to her on the podium, of the honeymoon and children and a house and everything that comes with being married flashing past her eyelids like a movie. Annabeth jammed her eyes shut, her ears ringing with loud, pounding static rushing to her brain. She felt her feet push deep into the carpet and her breathing picked up, her chest heaving up and down and up and down.
This isn't just cold feet, she thought.
This is regret.
Annabeth hummed a crackly song to herself, trying to calm down. The only one she could think of was It's a Small World after all, it's a Small World after all, it's a Small, Small World. Soon enough, she was overcome with memories of her dad humming that to her, the only childish song he knew in order to calm her down when she had a tantrum as a little girl.
She smiled faintly and took another deep breath, hoping the panic attack was over. The coldness soon settled over her like a blanket. Annabeth shivered, feeling the goosebumps come back. She stood up and walked back over to the mirror, wiping all traces of tears off. She knew that she had to put on a brave face, and allowing people to know she was just crying and having a full fledged panic attack was not brave. "Be brave for me, Annalise Elizabeth, you must," her dad would say to her.
But her father was not here.
He never approved of her rushed marriage. At first, he blamed her of being pregnant, but after swearing that she had never even done it before, he got even angrier.
"Well then, why in the world are you marrying him?" He blew up, his face flustered red from anger.
"I love him, dad. Isn't that enough reason?"
"You're only a teenager, you don't know what love means."
"I am an adult, dad. Nineteen years old. I moved out two years ago and two years ago is when I stopped having to do everything you say. I am marrying him and you cannot stop me. Come to the ceremony or not, I don't care."
But she did care.
Especially now. She just wanted the warmth of her dad's arms wrapped around her shivering body, she wanted to cry that he was right and hear him chuckle and tell her everything was going to be okay. But Annabeth knew that he wouldn't come. He never liked her fiance in the first place, saying he wasn't worth her time and that she could do so much better. They had many fights over her soon-to-be husband.
Annabeth should have listened.
Suddenly, the door on the far side of the room opened, the old, dark wood creaking as it slowly revealed the smiling face of Annabeth's mother. Annabeth looked up and made eye contact with her mum, begging her to see how much she didn't want to do this right now. "We're ready for you, sweetheart. You should see him," she said. "He looks so handsome." Athena held out her hand for Annabeth to take and hesitantly, she did.
Annabeth relaxed at the warm touch of her mother's hand, much nicer than the coldness of the room. Athena led them both out and into the hallway, in front of the huge doors that would soon expose her to everyone waiting.
Her mum handed her the bouquet of flowers. Lily's, Annabeth's favourite. She took a deep breath and hooked her arm through her mothers, a small voice in the back of her head wishing it was her dad instead.
"Are you ready?" Athena asked her, an excited smile on her face.
That was a good question.
Was she ready? No, not at all, but she had to be.
She had to be prepared for the looks of her family, of his family. She had to be ready to see him, his loving, warm eyes that held so much comfort and familiarity. She had to be prepared to say yes, to say her vows she had never bothered to rehearse, she had to.
"Yes, I am ready."
No, she wasn't.
Athena pushed the door opened and Annabeth closed her eyes. The piano started playing the boring, 'here comes the bride, all dressed in white,' song that everybody knew and judging by the sound, the audience stood up upon her arrival. She opened her eyes and found herself looking at about forty people; small children with grass stains on their knees and elbows, men looking warmly at Annabeth, women with tears shining in their eyes, and at the end of the aisle which was so beautifully sprayed with rose petals stood her fiance.
Annabeth gulped, tears welling in her eyes already.
I can't do this, she thought as her mother started to tug her arm. The piano player had already played the verse of the song once and briskly realized the bride was not yet there so started up again. Annabeth, now walking slowly down the aisle, wanted to rid herself from the sounds of the familiar tune. She swallowed tears as his warm eyes met hers. She wanted to run.
It's a Small World after all, it's a Small World after all, it's a Small World after all, it's a Small, Small World.
Like a mantra in her head, she kept repeating it until she was in front of him. Her mother kissed her cheek before retreating to her own seat in the audience. Annabeth stared forward at him, at his kind eyes, filling with unshed tears, at his glowing smile that lit up the room. She saw that her mother was right, he did look very handsome. He held out his hand for her to grab, she looked at his fingers, how they were so empty. How soon they would hold a ring, matching exactly the one she would soon have, too. Annabeth gulped and a tear fell down her cheek, she grasped his hand in hers, feeling the warmth of his. He lifted his finger and wiped the tear from her face, this only tempting more to fall.
The priest smiled warmly at them, opening his book and starting to speak.
As his booming voice broke through the hall, Annabeth stared up at her soon-to-be as he looked down at her. His beautiful eyes that she had fell so hard for were filled with so much love and admiration, his eyes were filling with tears, the glassiness only making the outstanding color more vibrant. A sick feeling erupted in Annabeth's stomach as she realized that this man loved her with his whole heart and then some, but she just couldn't make herself feel the same.
Every drunken night.
Every useless 'I'm sorry''s.
Every 'I promise I'll get better''s.
Every woman that he swore meant nothing.
All the jobs she begged him to let her have, but him denying, saying it would be better if she just stayed at home; cooking and cleaning and waiting for him to return.
All the things he did that she can never forgive him for.
And yet, there were all those days he took off work to spend time with her.
All the morning kisses and hugs and 'I love you''s at just the right times.
All the pain of her grandmother dying and him being right by her side.
She just couldn't do it.
He was perfect, but he was not.
And he loved her so much.
"And now for the vows," the priest says, smiling at them both.
Annabeth's fiance clears his throat and throws her a nervous smile. "I'll go first," he says.. He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolds it, staring right into Annabeth's grey eyes as he speaks. "I call you 'My Annabeth' because you are my everything," he starts and Annabeth can't help but want to throw up. He is too endearing and her vows won't even come close. "You are my light and you've shown me love greater than anything I've ever known. I love you, Annabeth Chase. And that's why I promise to hold your hand every night so we don't lose our spark."
The audience laughs and Annabeth chokes out a smile thinking, 'we've already lost it."
"I promise," he says, becoming serious, once again taking her hands in his and dropping the paper; he looks at her directly in the eyes, "to love you forever."
The guests clap and Annabeth could hear someone sobbing; she guesses it was his mother. She had always been over dramatic.
A heavy weight drops low in her stomach when she realizes that it's her turn. She feels as if she had swallowed a brick of ice as she turned to Silena, her maid of honor, who handed her the slip of paper she had only glanced at once before the day. Annabeth opened the paper slowly, letting the tears dry from her eyes so she could see clear enough to read.
She clears her throat, reading the messy handwriting of her own. "I vow that this will not be easy. Nothing ever is easy, we both know that well."
The room grows deathly quiet as she speaks, as if every person, even the little ones with bright green grass stains all over, is hanging onto her every word.
"I vow that I will try my best to do what has to be done. I vow that I will not give up on us. I vow that I love you and hell will come if anything tries to defy that."
The sobs were echoing off the church walls, seemingly rippling in waves up and down, to the high ceiling and back, making Annabeth feel seasick.
Annabeth folds the paper and hands the vow back to Silena. The vow which she found the night before online, stolen from a nice lesbian couples' wedding. It was beautiful and Annabeth watched the whole thing, she might've even shed a tear.
As the guests quiet down, Annabeth feels that ice cube come back to her, like a monster, or a stomach disease, eating her apart from the inside out, burning and biting and clawing as it goes. This is the part she's dreading the most.
Little Bobby and Matthew, Annabeth's neighbor's son's, trot over with the rings, and Annabeth catches her breath as she watches the boys bring the shiny rings over, handing one to Annabeth and one to her soon-to-be.
Luke Castellan's brilliant blue eyes sparkle with tears as the priest says his final piece. "Do you, Luke Castellan, take Annalise Elizabeth Chase to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do you part?"
He'll be there everyday for the rest of your life.
"I do." He puts the ring on her finger. She feels the weight dropping on her like a brick.
He'll be the father of your kids.
"And do you, Annalise Elizabeth Chase, take Luke Castellan to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do you part?"
This day will bind you together forever, Annabeth. There's no going back.
"Be brave for me, Annalise Elizabeth, you must."
"I do." She places the ring on his finger.
It's a Small World after all.
Luke's eyes shine with more love and love and love than Annabeth had ever seen in a person before. He bites his bottom lip in anticipation and Annabeth feels his fingers tighten over hers.
The weight in her stomach feels heavier than a bowling ball, making her knees quake underneath her brilliant ball gown of a wedding dress. She feels sweaty, she's crying, and she is suddenly aware that she forgot to put her shoes on. She is barefoot and she is cold, goosebumps crawling over her skin.
She feels disgusting.
She feels her hand drag to her side, the ring already weighing her down.
"I now pronounce you: man," he smiles at the pair knowingly, "and wife,"
There's no going back.
"You may kiss the bride."
The twinkling stars blanket the stelliferous sky with a light much needed in the dark courtyard of the secluded cabin, the only light coming from table candles and the moon and stars. The low murmur of conversation as couples around the room dance slowly to the soft music, small children no longer running around, but sitting at tables with their palm resting on their cheek, holding their small heads up in order to not fall asleep. The love ballad song slowly fades into complete silence, depleting along with the energy of every person in the vicinity, all tired from celebration and excitement. The night grows quiet and silent, an aura of calm washing over the guests of the wedding. The grass on the ground is wet and fresh, dark and rich, dirtying the feet of one Annalise Elizabeth Castellan. She sits alone at a table in the back, watching as dancing couples slowly lose energy in each others arms, small smiles on their faces, content with the loving arms around them.
Annabeth sighs. She doesn't even know where her husband is.
Husband, god.
She's married now. A heavy ring on her finger and a man to hold close every night. Except it's just all wrong. The entirety of the situation makes Annabeth want to throw up. Getting married to a man is hardcore commitment. She can't ever have a first kiss again, or a first dance, a first date, a first time. Gods, doing it with Luke was something Annabeth didn't have on her bucket list.
At some point during the long night, Annabeth had realised that she settled for him.
She felt as if her life was rushing, that she was running at top speed with this new husband of hers dragging her along the way as soon as they threw their cap in the air at graduation, that when Luke asked her to marry him, she said yes. Hoping it would slow everything down.
It didn't just slow everything down, it stopped time. It made Annabeth realize that she had possibly made the worst decision she would ever make ever. He loved her so much, but she couldn't ever feel the same. Touching him, kissing him, doing things with him, revolted Annabeth. She would rather kiss a frog.
Luke was a good man, but he was also a monster. The light, fading, purple and blue bruises on her wrist is proof of that. The matching one on her cheek that had been covered by layers of makeup was also proof. He controlled her.
It scared the hell out of her to know that she no longer had control of her own life.
"Hi, Annabeth Castellan," a slurs voice whispered from behind her.
She turns around and finds her face inches from her husband Luke's face. He smells of wine and gin, an awful combination. "Luke, you've been drinking," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you said you'd stop." She holds him to that even though she knew he didn't mean it.
He shakes his head. "I said I'd stop drowning my problems in alcohol." He boops her nose and she wants to claw at his face.
He sends her a grin. She raises an eyebrow. "Then what the hell are you doing now?"
"Celebrating, of course," he leans down and whispers in her ear. "You are my wife and for that, I drink."
She frowns deeply at him. She doesn't want to be his wife. Not a bit. "Let's get you to bed." She checks his watch, it's half two in the morning. She sighs, taking his hand and leading him back into the rental house.
After the ceremony, everybody had driven out to their secluded cabin where the happy couple would be spending their honeymoon. Which means everybody would be leaving in mere hours and Annabeth would be left alone with her sweetums.
Leading him back to the house was more difficult than she thought, lots of people wanted to congratulate, some wanted pictures, others cried some more, a few only smiled, she started loving them more, and more than most wanted to hug and chat and talk about future plans and say goodbye before they head off. Annabeth was ready to rip their heads off.
She smiled widely and nodded in agreement as her grandad told her they would have to talk soon, she hugged him goodbye. As soon as he was lost in the darkness of night, Annabeth took Luke by his arm and tugged him inside the cabin, locking the door behind her.
Suddenly, she found herself spun around and pressed against the door, a pair of hard, and frustratingly strong lips attached to hers, kissing her fervidly and passionately. Luke groaned against her mouth, wrapping his hands around her waist and gripping her by the small of her back. Quickly, he let go of her mouth and began sucking on her neck.
With all the strength she could muster, Annabeth placed her hands on Luke's chest and pushed him off. "What're you doing?" she asked.
He shrugged, looking disheveled, his eyes twinkling with intoxication. "It's our wedding night, isn't that what we're supposed to do?"
Annabeth sighed, dropping her tense shoulders and staring down at the ground. "You are drunk, Luke, and I'm not. I'm sorry, but I don't want to take advantage of you." I also don't want you to touch me like that ever again.
He nodded and trotted off in the direction of the bedroom. Annabeth shivered, a chill running down her spine, causing her entire body to shake. She would have to take a long shower to get the feel of him off of her.
Luke had never forced himself onto her before, not that that's what he was doing then, she's just saving her first time. For what exactly, she didn't know.
Annabeth, with slumped shoulders, realized how late it was and how exhausted she was. Deciding the shower would have to wait, she shut the lights off in the kitchen and made her way to the bedroom, where Luke was passed out cold, snoring loudly into his pillow. Thankfully, he was on his side of the bed, leaving a space open for Annabeth.
Annabeth walked around the bed to the bathroom, finally letting the weight of her tiredness settle over her. She reluctantly washed her face with warm water, despite how she felt like she couldn't even move her arms.
After patting her face dry with a towel, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her eyes had huge bags under them, her usually bright and excited grey eyes now dull and sad, her hair a complete wreck when she pulls it up and ties it back. And sitting out like a sore thumb was the bright purple bruise. The disgusting one you would see people wear after getting in a fight with an MMA fighter. Not your boyfriend.
Annabeth choked back a sob. She lived with this now. She married this. This cruel man with enough skeletons in his closet, he decided to take over Annabeth's closet, too. With enough demons taunting him, they came for her as well.
No going back.
She carefully undid the knot in her corset, and took a heavy breath when she felt her lungs expanding to their full capacity. She almost forgot what it felt like to breath normally. Stepping out of her wedding dress, Annabeth shivered, goosebumps crawling the exposed skin. Quickly, she put on a shirt and shorts and left the bathroom, not daring to look at her reflection one more time when she's about to get into bed with the man.
Annabeth silently got under the covers of the bed, anger flaring through her. If he loved her so damn much, maybe he could stop drinking like a lunatic pirate. She curled herself into a ball because she wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
Tuning out the horribly loud snoring, Annabeth found herself singing in her head, distracting her from the man only an arms width away from her.
Slowly, she drifted off to sleep just as the sun started peeking over the horizon, burning her eyes as a reminder that she forgot to close the bloody curtains.
But she did sleep, eventually.
...a Small, Small World.
Annabeth wakes up probably hours later, feeling content and fully rested, strangely enough. She keeps her eyes closed, knowing that if she opens them, the blasted sun would burn her corneas into ash. She breathes in a heavy sigh, smelling the freshness of the clean sheets. Somebody must've washed them without her knowing.
She shifts over, facing her now husband and she ignores the rumbling in her stomach as she pictures herself next to him in the bed. She didn't dare open her eyes. She's not ready to accept this. Not yet. Five more minutes.
Soft sheets around her envelope Annabeth in a warm hug. Strange, she thinks, these sheets were old and ratty, overused and worn only yesterday. She brushes the thought away, enjoying her contentedness, knowing it won't last very long. She feels Luke shift in his position and she becomes painfully aware that now he's facing her.
She ignores how she can feel his soft breaths on her face.
But she can't ignore when his hand comes up to brush a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers are warm, soft and gentle on her cheek. Like he couldn't help himself from doing that, but he still doesn't want to wake her. She pretends to be asleep. Even though his hand lingers on her cheek, sending a rush of blood to her neck. She only hopes he won't notice.
She hopes he does notice the bruise on her cheek, though. She hopes he feels the guilt eating away at him.
Slowly, Luke pulls his hand away and shifts again, Annabeth assumes he comes closer to her because he wraps an arms around her waist and suddenly they're flush against each other.
She ignores how she felt her frigid, cold body warm up. She ignores how nice it feels to be in this embrace. (Though she still can't feel her toes.)
She sighs subconsciously and internally cringes, can she be anymore obvious? He chuckles and kisses the top of her head. She almost frowns; Luke never chuckles.
"Have you really been awake this whole time?"
She stops ignoring everything and is suddenly aware of every feeling, every touch, every sound, and how the sheets are definitely not the ones she had been using since she was in middle school, and how the pajamas she is wearing are not the pair she fell asleep in last night, how his fingers are pressing into the exposed part of her skin where her shirt has ridden up, how Luke doesn't chuckle because that isn't Luke.
She feels herself go rigid, her shoulders rising up to her neck, every hair on her body standing on edge.
Slowly, as if trying to pry them open, she peeks out to him from behind her eyelashes.
Bright green, swirling eyes stare back at her. Pooling and drowning her. Beautiful eyes that are so familiar.
So hauntingly familiar.
She screams.
In seconds, she's out of his grasp and on the floor, sputtering and clambering to her feet. "Annabeth, what's wrong-"
"What are you doing?" she screeches. She looks around the room for her surroundings as he starts to pick himself up and out of the bed. They're in a bedroom, that's for sure. Too complete to be a motel room. She realizes for a sickening moment that they're in his bedroom. "What the hell is happening?"
He looks at her with slight amusement dancing in his eyes, a small smile on his face. "You must've had a nightmare. It's alright, you're fine-"
"No, I'm not!" she yells. "You-you stay away from me. Just stay where you are!"
"Annabeth," he says, looking as if he is finally starting to worry. "Stop screaming so much, you'll wake up the neighbors." He reaches out for her. "Just come back to bed-"
"A nightmare? Gods, what planet are you from? This is the nightmare," she waved her arms in emphasis. "Why the hell were we in the same bed-"
"Annabeth, gods, calm down," he whispers, coming alarmingly close to her face and gripping her elbows. "What on earth-"
She slaps him. "Don't touch me-"
"Holy mother of-Annabeth, what are you doing?"
"What am I doing?" she bitterly laughs breathlessly. "The matter is that I went to bed last night with my husband, Luke, and woke up in gods know where. How in the world could this have happened? No, don't tell me you got me drunk on my wedding night. Gods, listen, I swear anything we did last night was unintentional and I promise to everything that is holy and beautiful, I will slit every bit of you into pieces if you tell anyone otherwise," she says frantically, her voice becoming higher with every word. The panic obvious in her throat.
"Luke?" His once warm eyes go hard and steely. "If he's the one you've been dreaming about, Annabeth, I don't want to hear about that. But, you're seriously killing me, why in the world are you thinking about him?"
She scoffs. "I think I have a good enough reason to be." Her eyes scan the room. Where in the world did you leave your shoes, Annabeth? "Why shouldn't I?"
He sighs. "Love, I apologize for bringing it up, but you've just been so out of it lately. I'm worried about you. And with it being break and all, I thought you would be, I don't know, chill?"
He stands up straight and she's suddenly aware of the fact that he definitely not wearing a shirt. She'd never seen Percy Jackson shirtless before, despite the numerous amount of swim meets he had competed in. Annabeth had always refused to go, no matter how much Thalia insisted.
Stop staring at his chest, Annabeth, she told herself, you are so much stronger than this.
But how? When he's standing there all shirtless and half naked when she had just woken up next to him? How to be strong?
"For the love of everything, Jackson, put on a shirt, please," she says, looking down at her toes.
He and his stupid self had the utter audacity to start laughing. "Wow," he says, his voice filled to the rim with mirth. "After two years of marriage, and I still shock you speechless with my hauntingly good looks?"
She almost spouts back with a snarky comment when she catches herself.
She freezes.
What the hell did he just say?
"M-married?" she gasps, all traces of irritation and annoyance and complete and utter frustration gone.
She feels like her flight or fight response has decided to kick in and she feels like running as far away from him and from the bed and the house or where ever the hell they are.
"Why did you say we're married?"
And for two years?
Two years ago, she was seventeen.
Percy stops, finally just looking at her. Apparently, finally seeing the panic in her face- the tears forming in her eyes and he understands that something isn't right. "Annabeth, are you okay?" he asks.
She feels herself crumble. "No, gods no," she whispers. A few tears fall to her cheeks. What is going on?
He doesn't move to hold her again, probably learning from the last time he tried. "What happened? What's wrong?" His voice is calm now, it's a tone Annabeth had never heard with Luke.
Luke.
"I-I don't know. I was sleeping and now I'm here and I don't know how I got here, or what happened last night. I mean, I swear I was falling asleep just as the sun was rising, but how did I get here from then-?"
Percy cuts her off. "What do you mean? You fell asleep in here last night. Annabeth, what are you talking about?"
Cries wrack her body. Her shoulders heave and tears stream down her cheeks. It's rather embarrassing, crying in front of your high school crush. "I don't remember anything," she manages to choke out.
"Nothing?" Percy nearly squeaks out, panic settling in his stomach as well. He carefully comes forward to grab Annabeth's arm and lead her to the bed. She wraps her arms around her stomach. "What's the last thing you do remember?"
She swallows a lump in her throat. Yes, this she can handle; thinking of the past rather than the present is practically what got her through her relationship with Luke. "I was falling asleep in the cabin. I was supposed to spend my honeymoon there," she whispers, her voice raw. She isn't sobbing anymore, but a couple tears manage to fall.
Percy frowns and sits next to her. "Annabeth, we weren't in a cabin on our honeymoon."
"No," she says, simply accepting the fact that none of right now makes sense, but earlier did so she keeps talking about that. "It was my marriage to Luke, my husband. It was our first night married, and he was drunk so we just went to bed, and it was so early in the morning and the sun was rising and I just fell asleep but now I'm here and I don't know what happened or how I got here or anything."
"Okay... you don't remember anything after that?" he asks softly.
Annabeth shakes her head.
"Do you- Do you remember me?" His voice is practically broken. He speaks only just above a whisper, and, as odd as this situation is, Annabeth hates herself for making him feel so horrible. She knows what it's like, and it sucks.
Annabeth nods, and the goosebumps are back, tracing her arms and legs. She becomes very aware of how little clothes they're both wearing. "We went to high school together. You were on the swim team and the football team."
And how odd was that? Annabeth would hate playing any sports in general throughout high school, but two? How absurd that is.
Percy tenses. "You only remember me from school? Nothing else?"
She shakes her head again. "I haven't seen you since graduation." Annabeth has a very strong feeling that Percy is about to break to her that that is not the case.
"Annabeth, we've been married for two years."
"I caught that."
Suddenly, he stands and rushes off into through one of the doors on the other side of the room that Annabeth had barely glanced at in her frenzy.
It's an odd feeling. Annabeth knows she went to sleep as someone else from who she is now. What happened through the course of however many years that made her get a divorce from Luke and end up with Percy? How does that even happen? If she truly ended up with Percy, and they really have been married for two years, then how long is she missing? And how did she lose all that time? And more importantly, will she ever get those memories back? Will she have to go on only hearing about herself as a person and what she's done from recounted moments?
It's almost enough to start suffocating, but before a panic attack can settle in, Percy comes back in the room, this time, he has a shirt on. He hands her a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. "I figured since you don't remember anything, which I'm still trying to process, honestly, you probably don't want to be half-naked in front of a stranger, so, uh, those are yours, by the way. Clean." He stops, and you stare at each other for a beat. "Uh, there's a bathroom over here."
Percy leads her over to the room he was just in. "There's a shower- but obviously you already know that, because you're not an idiot," he mutters to himself after his mistake. Fumbling, he shows her how to use it ("-the knob is a little tricky, we- I mean, I meant to get a plumber but I just haven't yet-") and Annabeth can't help but smile a little when he's not looking at her. Past (or future?) Annabeth was right in choosing this guy. He's a complete banana.
After Percy leaves Annabeth alone, she sits herself on the edge of the bathtub and takes a few stabling deep breaths before putting on (her?) clothes. The sweatshirt is big on her and very cozy. It's a college sweatshirt. Harvard, Annabeth's dream college.
Ever since she was little, parents, teachers, aunts, and uncles would always say the same thing. "Fierce little one. She'd make a wonderful lawyer when she grows up." It's only coincidence that that ended up being her exact ambition. Harvard Law was the goal. Annabeth's parents were so proud and they supported her so much.
But Luke wanted to go to UCLA, and so they went to California. Far, far away from Harvard, and farther from Annabeth's dreams. That was reason one why Frederick hated Luke so much, and the start of Annabeth's disliking as well.
But now she wonders: did future (past?) Annabeth actually go to Harvard? Or is this Percy's sweatshirt? Maybe nobody did and it's just one of those sweatshirts that you never remember where you got it from.
But Annabeth holds onto her hope. Right now it's the only thing she has.
In the mirror, Annabeth can see how she's aged. It's not all that visible. She is still fairly young, maybe mid twenties. But she has laugh lines around her mouth and a dimple? She can't remember ever having a dimple when she smiles. Her cheeks are less round and more defined. She looks like an adult. Her skin is tan and her hair is nearly yellow; it looks like gold spun from straw on a princesses wheel. A little much, but she remembered it being bland and boring. Now it tumbles in neat curls down to her waist.
She looks alive. She looks well-rested and happy. How she should be.
Annabeth, not wanting to see her reflection any longer, opens the medicine cabinet. It can't be considered snooping if it's your stuff, right? And even if a voice in the back of her head says it's also Percy's stuff she ignores it and snoops anyway.
There's average stuff. Like toothpaste, toothbrushes, shaving cream and razors, there's a fancy perfume with a French name Annabeth doesn't recognize, and a small ring box. Inside is what possibly could be her engagement ring and wedding band. It's a simple silver band with a single diamond, but it's so much more than anything Luke gave her. (Which was nothing, Luke never properly proposed, nor did he ever buy her a ring. "Don't need one," he said, "Too flashy and expensive. Let's buy bread and milk instead." That was that for them.)
Jeez Past (Future?) Annabeth, she thinks, we snagged a guy who's cute (someone we crushed hard on in school), funny (a banana), and treats us right.
Maybe it won't be so bad.
But it is.
Annabeth doesn't put the ring on, instead she puts it back in the box and leaves the bathroom without a second glance. When she comes out, Percy doesn't hear her. But he kneels by the bed, his head in his hands, almost like he's praying. His shoulders shake with grief, so perhaps not.
"..know we haven't quite gotten along very well, and I don't honestly really believe in you, well I don't know what to think, but please, just fix this? She doesn't remember anything and- I don't know what's happening. I thought I was dreaming, but then I tripped over her hairbrush which she left on the bathroom floor last night and it really hurt- but none of that matters. Just fix it, please. I want her back. I need her, please. Why would you even do something like this to her? She doesn't deserve it. I know I'm being selfish but I need her back, so please..."
Frozen in her place, and without a clue of what to do, Annabeth retreats to the bathroom. She nearly starts crying again, but this time not because she's overwhelmed or confused, but because she just feels absolutely appalled at herself. Why couldn't she just remember everything? And they could move on like nothing ever happened? Or perhaps she could travel back to the world she knows, back with Luke, and her honeymoon.
Everything she would've cut an arm off to get out of only a day ago. Or was it years ago?
It's just so muddled and confusing and wrong that she can't help but agree with Percy.
She doesn't deserve this. Neither of them do.
There's a soft knock at the door. "Annabeth?" Percy says softly from the other side. "I'm, um, I'm gonna make some breakfast, cause I have to leave for work in, like, a half hour, so when your done, just come find me. I'll be in the kitchen." Assuming she knows where the kitchen is.
"Okay, thank you," she says back. And she means it. She's thankful he didn't get angry and storm out, she's thankful he didn't leave her to figure this out on her own, thankful he didn't freak out and hit her, she's thankful he hasn't kicked her out yet, that he gave her clothes and let her be.
She's just thankful that he's not Luke.
And it's so difficult and so so frustrating, because how can she just believe that this is her life? That she's married to a wonderful guy (who she was practically in love with in school) and has a house of her own and a ring and a certified divorce with Luke and possibly her dream college, education, and job. How can she forget the disgraceful life she was leading and simply go along with this fantasy land full of great achievements and all her dreams coming true? It's like she walked into her fifteen year old self's diary. And the frightful part is: she really really doesn't want to leave.
How could she? Yes, it's horrible and selfish and so wrong, but it's also everything she's ever wanted ever and she literally didn't have to do anything to get it. Except marry Luke, but details, details.
So instead of wallowing, Annabeth picks herself up, stuffs her engagement ring and wedding band in the coin pocket of her jeans, and leaves the bathroom. She has absolutely no idea where the kitchen is, or where anything is, but she'll find it.
She'll figure it out.
hello hello there
im pretty sure i said id upload this on tuesday (and i think i said this is a two shot) well surprise surprise: im uploading today and this is a three shot.
WABAM
sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
i really hoped you liked this, im so proud? of this? like this might be some of my best writing? i mean did you read those descriptions? spot on. and my vocabulary? gosh would my english teacher be proud
anyway as you can tell i am very humble but whatever moving on
percy is vv out of character but i really don't care this is my story.
also once a guest had the audacity to tell me that compared to percy, annabeth isn't that short. i mean, yeah, i know that its canon that she's only a couple inches shorter than he is, but hey? it's called fan fiction for a reason doods
anyway make sure to check in tomorrow and the day after so you can read the next parts (pretty saucy you guys im uber excited)
okay byyyyyyeee
-Leigh