Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and The Olympians, Spiderman, Buzz Lightyear, or Harry Potter
A/N: I haven't read the books in a while, so any information regarding a certain timeline could be wrong. Also, this is from when Annabeth was born to the end of the Titan's Curse. Also, happy birthday to Annabeth (and myself...)
It was a fling, Frederic Chase decided (albeit disappointedly) as he closed his door and breathed heavily.
Although the past few months had been positively delightful, nothing had happened between him and the... Goddess. Yes, absolutely nothing. His life, just months ago revolving around the stunning beauty who had helped him so much, would now return to books and endless creations.
He sighed as he heated up some leftovers and picked up a book. Yes, life will all be back to normal, he thought.
Obviously not.
The next day, when he opened the door and found some golden baby carriage with tiny wings, he felt just like Mr. Dursley from Harry Potter. Except it- no, she- had tiny tufts of blond hair and grey eyes. His thoughts led astray to Draco Malfoy, before he quickly shook his head and read the note.
Dear Frederic,
Here I come with quite possible my last gift to you: our daughter, Annabeth Chase. Our time together has been truly enjoyable and I hope that you will take care of her just as you did to me. Why, mortals can change personalities in seconds, I have come to realize. But alas, it is what it is, and know this, that I have loved you.
To infinity... and beyond!
Athena
He stared at the note in shock, not only because the almighty goddess of wisdom had just made a Buzz Lightyear reference but because of the baby.
That tiny, innocent little baby that did nothing more than scowl at him.
"Don't worry, Annabeth," he spoke as he picked up the cot and started to troop to the Empire State Building. "Soon you'll get to see the wonders of Olympus!"
"No, Frederic."
Over a cup of coffee, he had presented the baby carriage to her as a sendsie-backsie.
"Demigods have to be raised by their mortal parent," Athena explained. She stared at him critically. "Of course, if you do not want it, I'm sure adoption centers are widely available. Soon, she will be at one of the centers, waiting for a family to adopt her- and who knows what family it will be? Why, they could be-"
Oh how she loved mind games.
"Alright, alright!" He submitted. "Have a nice infinity."
Athena always had a plan, he thought darkly as he picked up the carriage and left the cafe with the same scowl that he shared with his daughter.
Oh what a joy parenting was going to be.
And it truly was for the first few years.
From when she was just three years old, he started to read to her at night.
"There was once a princess called..."
Annabeth scowled. "Don't like princesses. Wimp-"
Before a full blown rant could escalate, Frederic stopped her.
"Alright. How's this then: There was once a girl warrior who kicked some..."
Annabeth grinned before falling asleep to the sound of his voice.
Fondly, he tugged up the owl blankets and ruffled her growing blond curls.
"Goodnight Annabeth," he muttered.
Unbeknownst to him, she mumbled back a satisfied, "Nighty night."
When she was four, she started dreaming up the future.
"When I grow up, I want to be an architect."
He never understood why children would say that. Of why, when they were still growing, they would think of the future and in the future they would think of the past.
"I want to build structures and buildings and monuments and..."
She was rambling again, he thought. Not even aware that it was a run on sentence.
"Something permanent." She finished with a beam.
He narrowed his eyes in a joking manner. "Are you implying that I'm old?"
She laughed and ran inside the library to escape his clutches.
On her sixth birthday he had attempted to make his own cake. Getting up at precisely five o'clock since Annabeth always woke up at seven, he got out all the ingredients and started to mix.
He started to hum a theme song under his breath.
Unknowingly, Annabeth had snuck up behind him and hit him with her stuffed owl yelling bloody murder.
He twirled around with his arms high up in the air. "It's me, it's just me!"
She blinked, still clutching the owl. "Oh. Because you were humming the Spiderman theme song and the mixer sounded like a drill."
"Heh." The word monsters appeared fresh in his mind. "Well, if you ever do see an enemy, the hammer is in the cupboard."
"Hmmmm..." She grinned mischievously.
The fire alarm shrilled and they both jumped. He started to open up the microwave and...
The plastic tupperware inside was burning, and smoke was rising like snakes to a flute.
Poseidon would be quite helpful in these situations, he thought as he got the fire extinguisher.
But it wasn't Poseidon who helped, it was the firemen.
And so outside they stared at the small house as entrails of smoke still hung while the fire was dying out.
"Well, Annabeth, happy birthday," he said lamely. "It's turning out to be quite enlightening."
And while Annabeth merely cracked a smile at the bad pun, he still felt nice, standing there with his own daughter.
That was, until he went to the house designer and renovation person where he met this stunning Asian lady, name yet unknown.
It wasn't till he was sitting in a brand new house with a cup of tea in his hands where he realized that he was late to pick up Annabeth to school. Extremely late. At least, forty-five minutes late. And it wasn't the first time either.
Oh dear, oh dear.
"Dad?" Annabeth interrupted, opening the door. She was breathing heavier than normal, but maybe it was due to the fact that she had taken a thirty walk home while carrying a bag with heavy books she refused to put away. "Why didn't you pick me up? It's the thirteenth time these past few months and-"
Her eyes glanced up to meet the brown eyes which did not belong to her father at all.
"You must be, Annabeth," the new lady spoke with a soft smile. "I'm going to be your new mother."
Even if he couldn't read her expression, he could tell that she was not happy.
No, not at all.
Twins. Two boys who were not children of Athena, he knew. Which was probably why they were crying and screaming their heads off.
"Frederic?" His wife called out in confusion. "Do you have any idea what that noise is?"
Deciding that he didn't want to hurt her feelings, because perhaps, it would imply that she was a bad parent, he lied. "Not at all."
"No, I wasn't talking about them," she responded amusedly, before a concerned look overtook her entire face. "I meant that rumbling sound."
"Perhaps it's my stomach?" He murmured before realizing that he was actually kind of hungry. "I'm going to eat something."
"No it's not that either!" She insisted. "Listen."
So he did. And not before long, a monstrous creation crashed through the screened door like a soccer ball and smiled gruesomely.
He saw it. His wife did not. Annabeth could see it too. The twins did not.
"Genetics really run in the family, eh?" He gave a subtle grin.
"Now is not the time, Frederic!" Mrs. Chase yelled. "What is that and how did it get here! Or by whom?!"
Her glare met Annabeth's critical gaze.
"I want that thing out of this house!"
For a second, he didn't know who she was talking about, but staring at his daughter helplessly, he could tell that she was thinking about herself.
"Is the hammer still in the cupboard?" was all Annabeth asked.
"Same shelf too."
With stamina gathered from all that after school walking, she ran towards the cupboard and swung the hammer towards the monster.
"Grab the twins and get them and yourself out of here!" Mrs. Chase yelled, dashing off herself.
"But-"
He looked towards the twins who were still naive and towards the loud crashing and banging and Annabeth's war cries. He couldn't have done something, even if he wanted to.
Making himself useful, he grabbed the twins and rushed out the house, leaving Annabeth to fend off for herself.
It was a decision that would secure the growing rift between him and his daughter.
"Do you hear that?" Frederic asked, pausing in his step.
"Hear what?" Mrs. Chase responded with a frown.
"That scuttling sound..."
"Maybe it's the twins. You know they're trying to be like ninjas. Now come on Frederic, we have to go right now."
He nodded, but still looked back as they backed up in their driveway.
He missed the scream that occurred just seconds later.
When they were dining with some of their friends, his wife received a phone call.
"Mommy, mommy," Matthew yelled into the receiver. "Annie's screaming her head off."
Mrs. Chase sighed before looking at her husband. "She's already seven. What is it this time?"
"Something about spiders."
Scuttling. Screaming. Frederic already headed out the door but was stopped by a hand.
"I told the boys to go and check up on her, she'll be fine."
"Alright." Frederic took one more long look at the door before letting himself be dragged back to the table.
The phone rang again.
"Mommy, mommy," Bobby yelled into the receiver. "We went into her room but there are no spiders."
She gave a look to him, like 'see?'
"Alright, thank you, Bobby."
"Is everything alright?" One of their friends asked with an awkward smile.
No, everything is not alright, my child might be hallucinating! Frederic thought indignantly, but kept it to himself.
"Tip. Top." She ground out, shooting her husband a look.
"Please, my daughter, she's... She's..."
He blubbered his way through the short story as best as he could. When the officer asked questions, he blubbered some more while the kind lady gently handed him a tissue and water.
"Alright," the officer said. "I'll send out a search party."
"Th-Thank you Sir," Frederic managed, before screeching his chair back and walking back to the house with the look of pure desperation.
In all it wasn't that much of a difference. The past year, Annabeth mainly stayed in her room and only came out for important events. Occasionally he would go on her room and see what she was doing but all she did was flinch away and shield her work.
Only once did he see what she had been drawing, and it was truly marvelous. Each and every line was sketched with simple HB 2 pencil and the details... It had been a masterpiece, yet she stared at it in distaste and threw it in the recycling bin which had been flowing with paper.
Of course his wife started to scold Annabeth on wasting paper, so instead of waiting for the weekly garbage truck, he kept them all, uncrumpling them and keeping them in a box.
He tried writing to her once. A pen poised in his hand, he wrote a few words before he started to crumple it up and throw it in Annabeth's box. He didn't even know where she was.
He tried to live life as best as he could. Just as if Annabeth wasn't born, he busied himself with work and his family. Yet the nagging feeling in the back of his mind constantly reminded him of his guilt and so he grabbed his coat and headed out.
"Be back in a bit," he called out.
He came back a few hours later, hanging his coat up and going to his room to sit in his reading chair. Taking off his reading glasses, he sobbed in agony.
"It's a miracle, really!" Frederic shouted in delight as he clutched a letter and business card in his hands. He gave the letter to his wife who scanned it over.
Mrs. Chase stared at the letter blankly, unsuccessfully trying to decipher the words. "What is it?"
"It's in Greek," Frederic told her with a grin. "I deciphered it a few minutes ago. Here, let me read it:
Dear Dad,
Just wanted to let you know that I am currently residing in a safe haven for people like me, Camp Half-Blood. If you ever feel like writing back, the address is on the business card,
Annabeth."
Really, Mrs. Chase didn't think it was all that cheerful, but she supposed that it was good, knowing that she was safe. And Frederic seemed to think so too.
"She's safe!"
Frederic gave a whoop of joy.
He started to write to her then, seeing no excuse not to. His first letter started off with sorrowful words and pathetic pleas of what he hoped was forgiveness.
Dear Annabeth,
For whatever reason you have run away for- I hope that you didn't think it was because of my new wife and her two sons. For the record, they do not hate you- far from it in fact! It is true that her liking of you isn't exactly a true bond between a mother and daughter, and I suppose that the occasional monster attacks have strengthened that weakest link that causes dislike, but it is only a mother's worry between herself and her children.
I am happy that you have found yourself a safe haven- that you are now, hopefully truly safe from all the monsters.And it is now where I hope you have already found my college ring in which I have entrusted to you.
Your father,
Frederic Chase
Sealing the letter with his own personal stamp, he sprinted to the nearest postal station and mailed it immediately.
Everyday, he would wait for the postman for their daily mail and surf through all the endless bills and letters from people only to find that everyday, he would find the same letters- none from Annabeth.
'Tomorrow. The letter's going to arrive tomorrow' was his way of thought everyday to no avail.
It didn't- but then it did.
Annabeth's letter actually did come the next day and he let out an earsplitting grin when he read and deciphered it because everything wasn't that bad now, things had cooled down.
By each ongoing day he wrote, he couldn't help but be more irrational. Now that he actually knew that his daughter was slowly becoming more comfortable to what it had been a few years ago- subconsciously he started to make more brash letters, which in result made the letters slow down and rarely make appearances in the mailbox anymore.
It was only when he read what he wrote one day and thought about it in a rational way when he realized that he had slipped into a behavior that had to be stopped.
Placing his head in his hands he held a pen, poised in his hand with tiredness and scribbled a five worded letter over and over again in a daze.
Eventually, his head drooped down to the page which held a few dozen words of sorry.
Mrs. Chase stepped into the study of her husband, carefully tip toeing to the box labeled 'LETTERS' which was currently starting to overflow, Looking around cautiously, she picked a random letter and started to read it.
Dear Annabeth,
Will you come home eventually? We all miss you, the wife, the kids and I. This Camp Half-Blood, it's not an actual home, it's a camp! Come home to us,
Your father,
Frederic Chase
She sighed as she realized why the letters from Annabeth weren't coming quite so regularly anymore. Carefully putting it back, she left the room.
It was only a few years later when the letter was sent. Immediately Frederic purchased airplane tickets for himself and his family and headed for the airport.
"She's coming home," he murmured, almost in a disbelief as he sat on the airplane seat. "My daughter is finally coming home!"
All the way there, he thought about what he would do. It wasn't exactly a small occasion- he hadn't seen her in five years! Judging from her writing, she was more grownup, he thought with a sad smile. And he wasn't even there to see it.
Still, his mood was positive as he drove to this Camp Half-Blood, hoping it wasn't a hoax of some sorts because it was a secluded area with a pine tree in the middle of a big hill.
"Ugh, we have to hike," Bobby muttered to his twin who nodded in agreement.
"Don't be so lazy," Mrs. Chase chided. "You'll get to see your half-sister again!"
Cheering up considerably, all four of them, they started to troop up the hill and wait for her arrival.
Frederic was the most anxious one. Knowing from her letter that mortals couldn't enter, he waited outside the seemingly invisible border. Even though he knew she had grown, he was still sort of expecting a small girl with a bounce in her step and a beaming smile on her face.
So when he saw a girl approach, waving to a boy, he looked past her and kept on waiting.
"Dad."
He looked around for her until he finally came face-to-face with his daughter.
"Annabeth."
He gazed at her, grabbing every last detail of her face that all those old photos he used to take did not share. Every bouncy curl and wise grey eyes and maturing face. His daughter.
Giving her a watery smile, he hugged her in sentimentality, and was so very glad when she hugged him back.
"Annie!"
Yes, he decided as she moved on to hug her two half-brothers. Things will be the same- if not better, he thought and he finally gave a genuine smile as they headed back to San Francisco.
Things actually were the same. Nothing seemed to have changed. His work got more busier than ever now that he was up to the job which left his wife and all his kids at home. And usually when that happened, the results usually ended up bad.
Really bad.
And so when he came home humming and singing the Spiderman theme song, he was surprised to see that there was no door.
Annabeth waved her dagger at the monster and fought it in the front lawn, Frederic could see. He watched, fascinated but also scarcely worried that his daughter could die any second, but no- the monster disintegrated into golden dust and when their eyes met, she gave him a small smile as if she did it every day.
Above, from the window, he could see two brown eyes looking down at Annabeth disapprovingly.
"We'll get a new front door," he told Annabeth. "Maybe we can build one together. I've seen your sketches- they're absolutely brilliant..."
Ah, opportunities.
She nodded with some sort of childish excitement as her father's rambling faded to a comfortable drone, and her eyes showed that she was truly glad that she was back.
"I'm going back to Camp!" Annabeth yelled as she stabbed her steak knife in the tablecloth murderously. Her grey eyes looked around at each and every person furiously. "Seeing as no one wants me here."
Turned out that she had already packed a bag. Frederic tried to stop her, he really did, but Matthew called a cab for her as per her request and she stepped into it without looking back.
He watched the cab screech away into the night, the shock still sinking in.
Two years after she had gone away (for the second time, as he recalled) they received an urgent knocking at the door. He let his wife answer the door as she was much friendlier than he was these days.
When she called for him, nothing sunk in but the fact that Annabeth was taken, and he swore that he would find them, and he would kill them.
And that he tried.
He set off, making bullets out of celestial bronze because ('dad, celestial bronze is way more effective than mortal metal.')
Without a car, he got into the Sopwith Camel, preparing the machine guns.
And even if the next few hours looked bleak, he still hummed that Spiderman theme song.
There was no blood on the battlefield, he realized as bullets tore though dust and monster flesh. Just dust. And some more dust. And...
There was Annabeth (and the others.) He could see crisp blood, especially on this girl with a tiara on her head. She was clutching a wound that looked a sickly green and blood was trickling out. She seemed to be talking and smiling as if she wasn't bothered.
In all, he didn't react like he thought he would. He was calm, for one. All that history he had read about- about wars and battles had just seemingly come to life.
And then came the subject of loss, the girl- Zoƫ was dead and the others were going to be off soaring to Olympus on those magnificent pegasi.
But it wasn't the sheer genius of the pegasi which had him content. It was the fact that he finally got to talk to his daughter, perhaps it wasn't the happiest conversation, but it was still a nice revelation that would have him smiling for the next few months- because when he saw her leave for the third time, he waved his hand.
And he finally got his chance to say goodbye.
