A seven-year-old sits cross-legged at the edge of a pond. A rusty hammer with peculiar substances on it lies beside her in the dead grass. She thinks she hears a rustling in the woods and turns around. Her gray eyes quickly scan the area for danger. She sees nothing, but reaches for the hammer and holds on to it tightly. She can barely make out her reflection in the muddy green water. She sees a face stained with blood and tears, matted blond hair sticking to her face and formed oddly around her head, barely resembling hair at all, and red cheeks that appear to be freezing cold and extremely painful with all of the cuts on them. They are.

She looks down at her flannel pajamas that she has been wearing for nearly a week. This girl knows that no other kid her age has to deal with this. She faces monsters constantly. (She had just barely escaped a gargantuan dog an hour ago.) Why is she alone in the first place? She thought she was a good daughter. Her father disagreed. So did the terrible stepmother. She did everything she could. "It was the monsters!" she'd shout angrily as her father scolded her. "I didn't do anything!" He simply looked at the girl in disgust. The girl returns to the present. She knows she must stay focused, so she is prepared for the next one. But the memories are insisting on appearing and the girl stares into the pond in attempt to escape them.

She brushes a toe across the water and the nearest fish retreat. Just like me, she thinks angrily. Nothing to protect them, everything to harm them. So easy to hurt. Their only choice is too run away from it.

She knows she hears something now. It's another monster. This has not been a good day for the girl, even by her standards. She grips the hammer more tightly than ever so her knuckles turn white. She listens closely and decides that the noise is definitely coming from her left. She glances around and runs. She has prepared for this. The second she entered this place, she had come up with several escape routes. It has become a reflex. It's a short run from here to somewhere she has determined somewhat safe. The alley is only a hundred yards away. An easy escape, if the monster can't follow her trail. She won't underestimate it.

However, soon, she has spent a good five minutes in the alley and has heard nothing suspicious. It seems safe enough. She peers out and sees nothing but darkness. It is eerily quiet here and the girl hates it. She decides that it's best to wait until she thinks it is time to leave; it will save energy. Hidden there, she fights the urge to sleep. Of course, with her luck, the second her senses are temporarily shut down, she will be attacked again. She almost smiles bitterly at this thought. She shifts her position slightly as she tries to hear something a little better. What was it? Whispering? Muffled footsteps? She can't quite place it, but it seems to be approaching. The tin shivers further as she moves backward, pressing her back to the brick. The hammer is still in her hands and the girl is holding it with a death grip. She sees some sort of shadow tear away the metal protecting her. Her eyes are shut tightly. Her arms flash wildly, swinging the hammer every which way.

"Whoa!"

She opens her eyes and swings the hammer again, right toward the monster, which she decides isn't truly transformed yet; he's far too good-looking to be in his natural state. A girl of about twelve with startling blue eyes stands next to him with a terrible shield. The monster grabs the hammer from the little girls' hand.

"No more monsters!" she screams, trying to defend herself.

"It's okay!" the monster assures her, attempting to control her. Then he addressed the girl with the horrible shield. "Thalia, put you're shield up. You're scaring her."

The shield becomes a silver bracelet at Thalia's tap. "Hey, it's all right. We're not going to hurt you. I'm Thalia. This is Luke." Why do the monsters care?

The small girl shouts the first thing she can think of: "Monsters!"

"No. But we know all about monsters. We fight them too," Luke tells the girl calmly.

The fighting stops gradually. The girl looks at them both, searching for lies. "You're like me?"

He says, "Yeah." He goes on. Then he gets on to that subject. "Where's your family?"

The girl swallows. She won't make a fool of herself now. She's much too tough. She simply states the facts. "My family hates me. They don't want me. I ran away." It's as easy as that.

An understanding seems to pass through all three of them at that moment.

"What's your name, kiddo?"

Her smile looks out of place on the dirty face as she replies, "Annabeth."

And it's settled quickly. They will work with each other. They'll find their home somewhere. They will stay together. All of them grin. This is better, the girl thinks. This is much better. Family.


A/N: I wrote this a while ago and edited it today (Long weekend, as already pointed out). I suppose I'm proud of it for being one of my it's-midnight-and-I-can't-fall-asleep-so-I'll-just-write stories. I'm not the best with taking scenes from the books and making them unique, so there's something for me to try. I do kow that the whole Annabeth, Luke, and Thalia on the run is overdone, but this is just a one-shot. I' ot sure what I think of using pronouns instead of "Annabeth." It seems sort of repetitive, to me, but I also like it a bit. Also, I think it could be a bit longer, but overall I'm pretty happy with this. Hm. Well, that's it.
-Lexi