So, a Percabeth one-shot. Hope u like it. First ever one-shot, and I'm quite new to this site.
She looks in the mirror.
She doesn't look like she used to. Her hair is a rich brown, like chocolate. It's straight. Her skin is a little more tanned than it was, darker. She has splashes of freckles on her face, and her features are pointier than they should be.
Worst of all are her eyes. They are a darker brown than her hair, almost black. But they don't seem clouded with wisdom and knowledge like they used to be. They don't seem like hers.
She doesn't look the way she used to. Not at all.
She sighs and splashes her face with water, ignoring the fact that something in her head tells her that this is wrong, she is wrong.
She shouldn't know the way she used to look. So why does she?
She turns the tap off and grabs a towel, rubbing her face dry. The towel smells like seawater. She pauses, taking a minute just to inhale the oh-so-familiar scent.
For a moment, she gets a flash of a boy with sea-green eyes and jet-black hair. But the image is gone as quickly as it came, and is forgotten.
"I'm worried about you, sweetie."
She picks at her food with a fork absently, her mother gazing worriedly at her from across the dinner table. She is staring off into space, and doesn't even register what the older woman has said for a few seconds.
"Why?" she finds herself asking, her tone shallow and monotonous even to her own ears. Her mother blinks and seems flustered as if she wasn't even expecting an answer from her usually silent daughter.
"Well," she stammers. "You've seemed a bit…off lately, dear. A bit depressed. Is everything alright at school? Have you had an argument with your friends?"
She wants to laugh bitterly. Friends? What friends? She doesn't have any friends. She used to, sure, but they'd all get cross at her for spouting fats and getting scared easily. For example, she was scared off spiders and terrified of the dark. She would scream on instinct and claw for a comforting hand that she knew was supposed to be there, but never was. She didn't even know why. She just would, and was creeped out by that.
"I'm fine," she assures, lying through her teeth. "Everything's fine. Just going through a teenage phase, that's all." It's a barefaced lie, but if her mother sees through it she doesn't say anything, doesn't comment. She nods, seemingly satisfied, though something in her eyes suggests that she's not convinced.
Her mother doesn't say anything as she gets up and leaves the room without another word.
It's English, and they're watching a presentation about the Greek myths, and the style that they are told in. Something inside of her finds it amusing that people naturally assume they were untrue, and the rest of her questions why that's funny.
The presentation ends, and Mrs Harrison turns to the class, her crooked nose turned up into the air.
"Can anyone name one repetitive feature of a Greek myth?"
Several hands go up, but Mrs Harrison (and really, it's hard to imagine who would marry her) only has eyes for her, the beady things themselves drifting onto her.
Mrs Harrison enjoyed tormenting her, giving her harder work and answer all the questions. She wasn't the only one that noticed. Quite a few people in the class had commented, asking her why the teacher hated her so much.
"Miss Chase?" Mrs Harrison says softly. "Do you know one?"
And it's strange really, as her surname most definitely is not chase, but she reacts to it anyway, knowing that Mrs Harrison means her.
She takes a deep breath, mind travelling at hundreds of miles an hour. There are many features which crop up often, but there is one that has always struck something inside of her, rang a bell. She knows now, in this moment, what the teacher is asking for.
"The ending," she says, the words sounding hollow, like everything she says. "Greek heroes never get a happy ending."
She knows she's right. She can tell by the way Mrs Harrison's eyes flicker with annoyance and her lips tighten, obviously miffed that she got the right answer. And, of course, she looks as if she just proved a point by providing that answer, that the teacher was correct about something she didn't want to be correct about.
"Very good," Mrs Harrison says, walking to the board and writing 'endings' on it. "And very true. The Greek heroes almost never got happy endings. Take, for example, Achilles…"
The teacher begins to drone on and on about the tragic ends to heroes, whilst she thinks about how morbid and depressing and, overall, just how sad it is for the heroes.
The next day, she has English again. Mrs Harrison told them to write their own Greek myth.
"I want you to include all the features we were discussing yesterday," she says in her gravelly voice. "That means a monster, a hero, and not a happy ending."
As soon as her pen is on the paper, she starts writing.
She writes about a boy called Perseus, who actually prefers Percy, and outlines all the adventures he goes on. He meets a girl called Annie and falls in love with her, and he gets kidnapped and she rescues him, and they go to fight Gaia, and they win…
And they die.
She's crying by the time she's finished, and when she scans back she's written eight pages, and that was just a brief summary. She's shocked by what she has written, and the fact that the end is so sad – they go through all that, and before they get to settle down, the gods decide that they are too powerful and they are found dead, electrocuted by Zeus.
When Mrs Harrison reads hers, her eyes darken and she doesn't stop staring at her for the entire lesson.
She starts getting the strangest urges to steal things sometimes, even though she's sure she would have done before if she hadn't needed to.
She takes things anyway, and gets away every time. She gets the feeling that, somewhere, her father is proud of her.
She starts getting more careless after not being caught for two months. She gets caught at almost every attempt to shoplift or steal a purse from a rich, snooty lady (even though her mother is one of the richest, snootiest ladies around, but at least she has time for her daughter.) She has to go to quite a few court cases, and the police must be sick of hearing from her.
But her mother is a lawyer, and always ensures that no charges are pressed.
She sees the new Rihanna CD, the one she's begged her mother for but can't convince her to get it for her. Her fingers begin to itch. She looks around. No one is watching her.
Her fingers are going crazy, twitching. She jams them in her pockets, trying to prevent herself from grabbing the CD. It would be so easy to just reach out and grab it.
But she promised her mother she wouldn't.
A quick once-over of the store shows no one is watching. Hardly anyone is even in there. And she knows from previous experience that the record store has lazy staff and no alarms. It would be a cakewalk.
But she promised her mother…
Screw it. She reaches out and shoves the CD into her inside jacket pocket.
Her jacket is bright red, a walking traffic light. It draws attention she doesn't need from the cashier.
Her jacket is bright red, a walking traffic light. It draws attention she doesn't need from the cashier. She walks slowly, strolling as if she's in no hurry to get out of the shop.
She exits the store, and she thinks she's made it. She still goes slowish, but picks up the pace a bit, desperate to just this once get away with it.
But then the owner of the shop comes running out after her and grabs her wrist. She struggles as he sticks his hand near her boob (harassment!) and feels around her jacket until he finds the CD and brandishes it. She wants to complain that he has basically just molested her, but that wouldn't go down well what with the fact that she stole from him. The crowd that has gathered gasps dramatically, and she sighs as she's escorted to the police station by an officer that had come over to investigate.
And she was so close.
"What were you thinking?" is the first thing her mother asks when she enters the Police station. She folds her arms and taps her foot on the floor rhythmically. "Well?"
She looks down and hides behind her dark hair, knowing that it's not supposed to be dark, it's supposed to be blonde. And curly, not straight.
"I dunno," she mutters, just loud enough for her mother to hear. The woman huffs and sits beside her, sighing.
"Honey…you've got to stop this. I mean, I know you have kleptomania, but really, you need to try harder…"
Her mother goes on like this for a while, ranting about how she should 'be a better person', before finally telling her what's going to happen.
"Now, honey, they say they've caught it all on CCTV. The evidence is undeniable. I've convinced them not to press charges, but only if you go to this special centre for a while. It's called the Wilderness School, been around for years. I hear it's very good for kids like you." Kids like you. Kids with problems. The words go unspoken between them.
"Yeah, okay," she sighs.
"If it gets them off my back." Her mother beams, and starts talking about how she's sure that this place will solve all her issues and she'll make lots of friends there.
Yeah right, she thinks, but smiles and nods for her mother anyway.
She didn't even get to keep the CD.
It's her last day at normal school before she leaves for the correctional one, and she knows that no one will miss her. They all smile falsely and talk about how much it'll be different when she's not there (only because they'll be no nerd with ADHD and dyslexia to pick on.) The only one who seems to be really sad that she's going is a guy who she's always had a crush on, but has never worked up the courage to talk to.
"Bye," he says near the end of the day, and she smiles politely before noticing who's talking to her. She blushes and looks down, embarrassed just at existing.
"Bye," she whispers quietly, and looks up to look him in the eye for the first time since she met him.
"You'll last until June without me, right?" he says conversationally, but she isn't paying attention. She's seeing golden eyes and scars down faces and swords and oh god…
She has an asthma attack. She's only ever had a few in whole life, but she thought it would be wise to keep her inhaler with her at all times. It seems like that was a good decision, as it is only the guy's quick thinking and finding it that means she doesn't have to go to hospital, just get checked out by a school nurse.
She cleans her locker out, even though she'll back in a few months, and roughly shoves everything in her backpack. She doesn't even bother checking what's in there – just makes sure that the locker's empty before slamming it shut and turning the key.
She checks the time – she's an hour late. It's because of the stupid asthma attack.
Her mother is going to go mental when she gets home.
She sighs and leans against the locker. She's sick of her life, of having ADHD and dyslexia and asthma and depression and kleptomania. Can't she just be a normal kid? Why does she have to be so much to handle?
Her mother doesn't want her anymore, and she can tell.
Mrs Harrison chooses that moment to walk past the corridor, and she does a double take when she sees one of her pupils leaning against her locker.
She calls the younger girl's name.
"What on Earth are you still doing here?" she asks, adjusting her glasses on her crooked, wrinkly nose. She resists the urge to snort as a wart at the ends wobbles. The woman looks like a witch.
She shrugs, dejected, and stands up straighter, shouldering her backpack.
"I dunno. Spent too long in the nurse's office, I guess."
Mrs Harrison smiles cruelly, an evil glint forming in her eyes.
"Well, isn't that a shame?" she comments, moving slowly towards her. She begins to back up against the lockers, but there really is nowhere to go. "Guess no one will ever know that it was me."
"Huh?" she asks. She's just stalling for time and she knows it. She just wants to get out of here. "You who what?" Mrs Harrison clucks her tongue against her mouth.
"So naïve," she whispers, or rather, hisses. "It was me who killed you."
Then, the strangest thing happens. Mrs Harrison's fingernails grow into claws, as if they weren't long and sharp enough already. Her glasses fall off and her wrinkly skin tightens, going all haggard and looking as if it's about to fall off. This is possibly the ugliest creature that she's ever seen.
It (because she's not so sure she can all it a 'she' anymore) shrieks a bloodcurdling noise out of the bottom of its throat and lunges towards her, talons outstretched. She only just manages to dodge, leaping out of the way and onto the floor. The thing that used to be Mrs Harrison slams into the orange lockers, making a big dent similar to the size you might get if a pteradon crashed into them.
She looks up at it, whatever 'it' is. Most of the lockers have swung open, but one swung open before slamming shut, getting the creature's wing jammed into it. It's tugging on it, trying to get free and attack her.
Her backpack is lying on the floor several feet away, after skidding when she leaped. She clambers to her feet on shaky, unstable legs, grabs the bag, and turns to face the creature.
It has finally gotten itself free, and is hissing and glaring at her, hovering slightly in the air. She shudders as it screeches again, sending waves of fear through her spine.
"What are you?" she gasps. Then, when it doesn't answer, yells. "WHAT ARE YOU?!"
It cackles slightly.
"What are you more like?" it asks, and she realises that it's sneering at her. "You shouldn't remember. Why do you remember?!" The last part is screamed, so loud and high-pitched that she winces as the blood in her ears roars.
"I don't know!" she yells back, because it would seem wrong to casually say it. "Remember what?"
"Who you are!" it wails, before a golden sword rips through it from behind and it disappears in shower of golden dust.
She never even finds out who killed it. The space behind it is empty.
She takes a few puffs of her inhaler before walking away. She never tells her mother.
She climbs out of the taxi, making sure to pay the driver more than she should. He's earned it, really, driving her all the way out here and now having to go all the way back. Her mother has given her fifty pounds to pay him with.
She gives him sixty, forking out of her own personal stash (well, not really personal, she stole it from her mother.) When he looks at her in shock, she smiles tightly, shouldering her small bag with all the things she needs in it (she doesn't need much.)
"Keep the change," she tells him. He smiles widely, thanking her, before going into reverse and driving off. She looks after him and sighs, walking slowly towards the building to her left.
She pauses just before she goes inside, taking time to study the architecture. It looks quite old fashioned, with old bleachers and posters lined up on the walls. There's a separate wing on the right, one that she assumes is for dormitories. Through the door she can see an office, and beyond that a dinner hall, where about two hundred kids are sitting and eating at tables. They're all wearing loose clothes, and she doesn't blame them. It is warm outside.
A couple kids notice her standing outside, pointing and laughing at her hesitation to come in. A low growl escapes from her throat. She can already tell she's not going to like them.
"Three months," she mutters, taking a deep breath. "How hard can it be?"
She squares her shoulders and enters the building.
She has to sign her name on some big list, to eventually go on a plaque when she leaves. She studies the names engraved, especially the older ones. Two of the names, Leo Valdez and Piper McLean, jolt something inside of her, and she gets a flash of a curly-haired boy surrounded by flames and a beautiful girl gazing into a knife.
She blinks. The image is gone.
One of the teachers gives her a tour, Mr Jones. He seems nice enough, nothing like Mrs Harrison (and isn't that a relief.) His shirt sleeves are rolled up (pink t-shirt – only he could pull that off,) he has small, wiry glasses and his light brown hair is neatly trimmed. He's the exact opposite of Mrs Harrison, and she isn't complaining.
Other kids stare at her as she walks past, whispering about her and obviously wondering what she's done to be sent here. She ignores them, keeping her head high and walking past.
Mr Jones concludes the tour with her dorm room. She will have two fellow occupants, who aren't here at the moment as it's their lunchtime.
She's not sure whether that's a good thing or not. Does she really want to meet them?
She scans the room. The girls must be really girly, because there's two desks with the top covered with make-up, all the clothes she can see are pink, and their shoes are all light-tone high heels (colour co-ordinated, of course.)
"You'll be sharing with Lily and Isabella," Mr Jones says. He sniffs at the air and wrinkles up his nose at the foul smell in the air, one that she suspects is supposed to smell nice. It doesn't. He looks her up and down, taking in her ratty jeans, dirty red converse and worn black t-shirt. "I'm not so sure you'll get on with them. There're something of…queen bees." Why is that not a surprise?
"Then I guess I won't be getting on with them." She means it as a joke, but Mr Jones nods in complete seriousness.
"No one really does." Oh. Well that's great.
She has a feeling that these girls are going to be something beginning with Bs.
She sighs, putting her bag on the spare bed. The room really does stink.
"Okay. Well, I'll just dump my stuff here, then. Should I go to lunch now?" she asks. Mr Jones shakes his head.
"Not much point, it's almost over. I'll take you to your PE lesson." She internally groans. Of all lessons, it just has to be PE that she starts on.
"Class, this is the new girl. I want you to make her feel welcome."
She studies the class nervously. Most of them simply ignore her and turn away, like the jocks. The girls mainly giggle and whisper about her, probably taking the mick out of the bright red jacket. She blushes, embarrassed. They already don't like her.
The only people in the class that look as if she might actually like them is a group of three. One guy who seems like he's about to pull a prank, one girl who looks like she's crushing on him and one girl who looks as tough as nails. They only look at her for a couple seconds, giving her once-over, but there's no judgement in their eyes. They just get back to their conversation.
When they have to get into pairs, the boy and the girl with the crush are together, and she ends up with the girl that's really tough. They introduce themselves, and she can't help but think the girl's name is wrong. She isn't quite sure what the 'right' name is, just that it's not this.
She looks into the girl's eyes, and gets a flash of lightning and a shield with an ugly image on it, the most horrible image she's ever seen, but, same as before, the picture goes as soon as it came.
After PE, she gets to properly meet the other two. She finds out that they are, in fact, dating. He asked her out the first time he met her, and she said yes without hesitation. "Love at first sight," they say. She doubts that, thinking it's probably more of them being ridiculous, but they're still together and that was five weeks ago, so that's gotta count for something.
"Our destinies are intertwined," the girl says when she asks about them, a happy glint her eye. She thinks that she's just joking, and looks to the boy for confirmation that they're just kidding, but nods and agrees, completely serious.
"They are," he tells her when he sees the look of doubt on her face. "They really are. We've met twice before, in two other lives, and both times we died without a happy ending. This is our chance to be together, because, this time, no one's keeping us apart."
The tough girl rolls her eyes as if she finds this idea completely ridiculous, but doesn't comment, as if she's heard it all before.
She herself respects them for not caring what anyone else thinks about this, and thinks that they can believe whatever they want to believe. It's not up to her to decide whether or not they're making it up.
Besides, the words Valdez and Levesque float to the front of her mind, and she can't help but think that maybe there's some truth to what they're saying, after all.
She's been for a month and a half when she has a week to go home and see her mother.
"Honey!" she calls and smothers her in a huge motherly hug. She lets go and fusses over her, asking how school is, what are her new friends like ("do you even have any friends?" Rude,) is she enjoying it?
At home, she tells her about her three new friends, leaving out the "destinies intertwined" part. She has a feeling her mother wouldn't appreciate that.
Then she talks about the strange visions she's been having, about the dreams (well, more like nightmares, really) she's been having about a dark place filled with every fear and home to ever monster ever dreamt up. She thinks her mother will comfort her.
Instead, she gets a physiatrist appointment for next Thursday.
Her mother is wary of her after that, being around her as little as possible. She can tell that her mother can't wait until the end of the week, when she goes back to the Wilderness School.
She can't really say she blames her. She can't wait to go back, either.
"So, tell me about these visions that you're having."
She's lying on a bed, with her neck right back. It aches, but the physiatrist insists that she stays in that position, to help her to 'relax.'
At first he'd turned off the lights, but she'd shrieked until he turned them back on and calmed her down.
"It's mainly people. There's this guy that I see more than anyone else. He's got black hair and green eyes, and he always seems to be 5teasing me, or hugging me or something. I think he might have been my boyfriend." His head shot up at that.
"Might have been?" She sighed. She'd always had her suspicions, but what her friends had said about meeting in other lives had struck a chord within her.
"I think I had a past life," she says quietly. "And I'm remembering it."
The psychiatrist is scribbling down notes at super speed, probably quoting what she's just said word for word. When he finally looks up, she is watching him expectantly.
"So, what else do you remember from this…past life?" There it is.
She takes a deep breath.
"I remember…darkness. Lots of it. I was with the boy, the one I told you about. We were going through this place. It was dark. Like, really dark. And it was really scary. Everywhere we went, we could just hear people screaming and calling out for help. We'd always try and help them, but by the time we got there…" She bites back a sob. Her voice is thick and heavy when she next speaks. "We were always too late."
"Did you get out?" he prompts quietly. She smiles briefly and nods.
"Yeah, but…almost straight away, when we finally thought that all of our problems were over, we died. Killed in a car crash." She laughs bitterly. "We never got a happy ending." Just like Greek heroes. Greek heroes never get a happy ending.
"Okay," he says gently, writing something else down. She tries to peer over to see what it says, only to see that it's all been written in shorthand. "Do you remember what your name was?" What was her name?
"It began with A," she says, mind travelling quickly, desperately trying to remember. "Anne – Anna – Annie? Annie-Bethany?" It's not that. Close, but not that. "And my surname…Chase. I know that much." She's now certain that the creature that was Mrs Harrison knew her in her old life. And she'd called her Miss Chase.
She brought out a picture that she drew of a girl with blonde hair and grey eyes. How she's supposed to look.
"That's me," she says in a quiet voice, handing the psychiatrist the drawing. "That's…" her brain searches for the right word. "Annabeth." Yes. That's it. She was Annabeth. She is Annabeth.
He looks up in surprise.
"That was your name?" She nods.
"Yeah," she answers, a ghost of a smile on her face. "Yeah it was."
She goes back to the Wilderness School, and soon falls back into her old routine. She stays with her friends, and sits them down one day and explains all about what she can remember from her past life. Much to her relief, they don't laugh like she expects them to, instead taking her completely seriously.
Even the tough girl admits that she has her own suspicions about a past life, and dying saving her brother's life in battle.
The girl and boy hesitantly take each other's hands and say that, the first time, she died young due to her mother, and the second time she was already with another boy, and didn't want to break his heart. When they finally decided to be together, a plane crashed into some sort of flying vessel they were on, and they died before they could even say, "I love you."
"This is our chance to be together, now," the girl says. "We can't waste it. This time, we will get our happy ending." She smiles, a real smile, not one of those fake ones she's worn all her life.
"I hope you do. I really hope you get your happy ending."
Of course, maybe if you don't get your happy ending the first two times, then maybe, just maybe, it'll be third time lucky.
Eventually, as you might guess, the time comes to leave the Wilderness School. Her friends are all leaving at the same time as her, so they all get the same bus back to civilisation.
"I'm gonna miss this place," the boy says conversationally.
"Me too," she says.
They all look at each other, and burst out laughing as one. Some of the other kids turn to see what's so funny, and she smiles ruefully at them in response.
Maybe things will get better after all.
Because, while she will not miss the Wilderness School, she will miss the people there (the nice ones.) But she has their phone numbers, and she has her own phone (finally) so she can always meet up with them.
Little does she know, she'll be meeting up with someone she hasn't seen in a long time, and very soon.
She's running. Running for her life.
A crash behind her. A yelp. And…don't look back.
Don't look back don't look back don't look back…
She looks back.
"Your wrong," the thing hisses. It's quite possibly the strangest thing she's ever seen, perhaps only beaten by Mrs Harrison. But only just.
"I know," she replies, and where does that come from? She knows it's true though, always has, even if only subconsciously before. She's wrong, she isn't meant to be this way.
But she is, and if she wasn't this way, she wouldn't be her.
Whatever this way is, though, she's not exactly sure.
The thing that used to be Mr Gerard (and, really, what is it with her English teachers turning into monsters and trying to kill her? Because this is the second time, and she isn't happy,) chuckles and scratches into the boy's skin with its sharp claws.
The four of them all go to the same school now, due to the others convincing their parents that they'd behave better. When their academic progress and, indeed, behaviour improved, it was decided that they'd stay there.
It was all going well until today, when their new English teacher decided that Mrs Harrison had been an excellent role model, and he ought to copy her.
This was, of course, in detention, so the rest of the class wasn't here to witness (or help, but something told her that they wouldn't have done even if they had been here.)
He'd chased them down the corridor, yelling and screaming at their backs that he was going to kill them. They'd just legged it, blindly pegging it and hoping for the best.
But, of course, with their luck the boy had been caught.
"You're wrong too," the manticore (because that's what she's realised it is, somehow the information just slotting into place in her brain) hisses at the boy, turning to the tough girl and the boy's girlfriend, who is biting her lip with worry. "You're all wrong!" He roars the last part, almost deafening her as the sound echoes throughout her eardrums.
"It isn't our fault," she says quietly, so quietly he almost doesn't hear her. But he does, and this makes him rage even more.
'Mr Gerard', or the manticore, roars again and throws the boy to the floor, making her wince as a sickening crunch comes from the boy's shoulder. He himself gasps with pain, and the girl, who is so in love with him, starts towards him with a determined look on her face (she normally only wears this look when faced with bullies, she realises, and is so sweet that even that is rare. So it's quite remarkable to see her with a look like that on her face.)
But, before either girl can do anything, he lunges.
But, while the two were unable to do anything, the tough girl was.
By the time they reach the girl's side, the manticore has run off somewhere with glee. She couldn't care less, to be honest. What she does care about is the bleeding girl on the floor.
The once-tough girl does not look so tough anymore. The boy has laid her head in his lap, gently brushing the sweaty hair away from her forehead. She coughs rather violently, and a load of sticky, red blood comes pouring out of her throat, mixed in with vomit that stinks.
She herself almost hurls at that combined with the sickening image laid in front of her, the tough girl's abdomen completely wrecked and bloodied, torn apart. She can almost swear that a bit of her guts are visible amongst the bloody and grotesque sight.
The manticore really did a number on her.
And, worst of all, she knows that she's not going to make it through to the end of the day.
"Hey," she murmurs, though it's so quiet that it's more of a whisper. She kneels down beside her best friend. "You don't look so good." Her friend laughs and coughs up more blood, face screwing up as a spasm of pain flickers across her face.
She eventually reopens her eyes and grunts, spitting out blood and trying (and failing) to pull off a smile.
"I'm fine," she chokes out, and she raises an eyebrow at that, because trust her to lie and say she's fine when she is most obviously anything but.
"No, you're not," she says gently, taking her friend's sweaty, clammy hand in her own. The tough girl smiles a grimly, a pain-filled smile that most definitely does not reach her eyes.
"I'm not going to make it," she mutters miserably. And, while she is normally a determined person (Taurus,)
she knows that, this time, she's not going to be able to do anything. Her friend smiles sadly. "See, you're not saying anything. That means I'm right."
She opens her mouth to argue, to spark some hope, but is cut off by a rather large coughing fit from her friend, who then interrupts as soon as she's done.
"I remember my past life, you know," she whispers sadly. "I died twice that life, and each time it hurt so much." A tear slowly rolls down her cheek. "I don't want to die again."
"You won't," she says, voice gravelly. "We'll be here, and we'll protect you."
Though they don't quite manage that.
Later, she will be able to say that she proudly kept by her best friend's side as the girl passed from one life into the next.
"Thalia."
The word is whispered late in the night by a lonely girl who misses her best friend.
The tough girl's parents are notified of her death. They cry down the phone for an hour before she awkwardly hangs up the phone.
She's chosen to tell them, being her best friend and all.
The boy blames himself, before she tells him to man up and blame the manticore.
For some reason, he seems a lot happier and less guilty after that.
They were brought to this place almost immediately after the attack, some teenagers their age running in and freezing at the sight of a dead girl's body on the floor. They had been too late.
She pretended to be fine, just a little shaken up, and helped the teenagers escort her other friends to the camp, Camp Half-Blood.
"We never knew her much," she tells one of them. "Just a classmate we had detention with, nothing more. The others are just in shock, that's all."
She gets into the Big House (alone) and has a cry, all by herself, in mourning of Thalia Grace, who died thrice.
You can't always be third time lucky.
She tells her mother that she's going to a new school.
"Can't stay at that one," she says. "Too many memories." The older woman is nothing but understanding. Of course it was fine. The news of her friend's 'murder' has already spread like wildfire through the time, and it's obvious that she's distraught.
She doesn't even have to act the last part.
Her friends tell their parents the same things.
At the campfire that night, she is 'claimed'. One minute she's being ignored and treated like dirt form the snootier kids, the next everyone's gasping and pointing at something above her head. Light is bathed on her friends' faces beside her, the girl gawping and gaping at her, the boy staring wide-eyed in shock.
By the time she looks up, the sign has faded, but everyone is kneeling before her, minus her two friends.
"Hail," Chiron says, and how does he know her name? "Daughter of Hermes."
A bunch of pointy-eared kids from across the circle grin at her. She does look rather like them, but she doesn't feel like them.
They show her to her cabin, excitedly chatting. She briefly scans the rest of them, but one catches her eye.
"Excuse me," she says to the kid closest to her, pointing to said cabin. "What's that one for?" The kid peers at it, before grinning cheekily. It makes her uneasy, that smile, even though she knows that her own is similar.
"That's the Athena cabin," they say, drawling out the words. "For the geeks and nerds."
Instantly, at the Goddess' name, she, unlike with Hermes, feels a connection, a spark.
"Great," she says, moving towards it. "Can I go in?"
A hand stoops her, and she turns to see the boy frowning at her a little.
"No," he scoffs. "You're a child of Hermes, not Athena."
Are you sure? she mentally asks as they cajole her off to their cabin.
She's been there for two weeks when someone mentions Tartarus.
Immediately, she crumbles and falls apart, crying and screaming.
The biggest asthma attack of her life comes on at that moment. It's only because of one Apollo's kid's quick thinking that her inhaler manages to save her life.
As she looks into his eyes, she can't help but be disappointed that they're not green. Though, even if they're amber, she scans all of him.
Right, but not right.
She blacks out.
After she's regained consciousness, they allow her to properly, officially meet the guy that saved her life. Apparently, he's new around camp, which explains why she's never seen him before.
She looks him up and down again.
Blonde hair, amber eyes, tanned complexion. Typical Apollo kid.
So why does something feel…not right?
He introduces himself.
"That's not right," she says, shaking her head. "That isn't the right name." As soon as the words have left her mouth, she is the most embarrassed that she has been in her entire life (and that is saying something.)
He laughs loudly at that.
"And tell me," he asks, cocking his head with an amused glint in his eye. "If that isn't right name, then what is?" She shrugs, looking down.
"I don't know," she says from behind a curtain of dark hair (it should be blonde.) She is speaking the truth. "But I think it begins with P."
He laughs even louder at that, never realising that she is being completely serious.
They grow closer, as do the boy and the girl. It's a whole year later when they kiss on a quest.
It just feels so right.
"Percy," she murmurs into his hair. He smiles.
"Annabeth."
"We found each other."
"Yes."
So, he remembers too, then.
"Percy," she says again, because, yes, Percy is the name he asked for, the right name.
"It does begin with P, then."
She laughs into his hair.
She is walking past Cabin Ten when she sees a woman standing there, possibly the most beautiful woman she's ever seen, wearing casual jeans with holes in and still somehow managing to look elegant.
There is only one person it could be.
"Lady Aphrodite," she gasps, hesitantly approaching. "Is there something you require?"
"Oh Annabeth," the goddess says, turning round. "Don't bother kneeling, and I think you know why I'm here."
She pauses from her position half crouched on the floor, almost at a kneel. She awkwardly rises, gazing at the goddess with uncertainty.
"I think know why." Aphrodite watches her expectantly, so she continues. "I prayed to you, to know why you let my soul remember, why I got another chance."
Aphrodite sighs, tucking a strand of long dark hair behind her ear.
"You and Percy had one of the most unique relationships I've ever seen, and one of the most passionate loves. When you died, you lost everything you worked so hard to gain." The older woman sighs. "You are Greek heroes. Greek heroes don't get a happy ending. Last time the same applied for you. The original Perseus cheated the curse. I had hoped that you would too," she admits sadly.
She remains staring at the goddess.
"So, why us?" she asks curiously. "Surely not every person gets a second chance?"
Aphrodite smiles slightly.
"It depends on the situation," she begins to explain. "I am the only god allowed to do this, along with Eros. It is only tolerated in the name of love, though these people are often seen as wrong." She speaks the word as if it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. She clearly does not agree with this assessment. "I personally see it as very right, but there you go. Some see them as so wrong that they make it their mission to personally kill you. Like Hades, for example. I believe he sent someone out to kill you, you repulse him that much.
"But, no, not everyone. Only the ones who got no happy ending due to no fault of their own, and even then it has to be possible to rekindle their relationship. The way yours was."
She takes a moment to digest this.
"You know, you basically killed everything that this girl could have been, if my memories hadn't overwhelmed her and changed her."
Aphrodite has obviously already thought about his.
"Love is all about sacrifices, Annabeth," she reminds the younger girl. "This was just one more."
"So," she asks after a minute of silence. "Who else remembers?"
"Well, Piper lived a happy life and died with a happy ending, with Jason, so she doesn't remember. Jason, however, spent his whole life second-guessing his decision to leave Reyna, so both Romans have met in San Francisco with memories intact. Frank doesn't remember – he found someone else after Hazel died, and he got his happy ending, though he is Roman and most likely got his ending because of that.
"Leo and Hazel remember, obviously. I believe that you know them in this life. Like they said, their destinies are wrapped up together, it's just that fate intervened before." Some part of her wonders how she knows this, but it quickly fades as she realises that she's a goddess, of course she knows. "This life they seem to be doing
fine heading on the right track, even if the camp thinks that they're legacies.
"Beckendorf and Silena chose to remain in Elysium together, as did Chris and Clarisse. Luke and Thalia both remembered, but her time was cut short by a manticore attack. I am so sorry, by the way.
"You and Percy remember. Maybe, this time, you get your second chance and your happy ending."
When Aphrodite's speech is over, and she fades away, she can say one word to the empty air.
"Thank you."
Now, time to get her happy ending.
Another three years later, and the two of them are on a boat ride.
Annabeth (because that's what she goes by now) is wearing a thin summer t-shirt and bright blue shorts, both of which were a gift off Percy (because that's what he goes by now.) He himself is wearing just baggy blue pants, topless. Even in this body, he looks good.
Her dark hair is all over the place, and it keeps batting onto her face. His blonde hair is only slightly ruffled. He seems to be enjoying the wind. But, then again, they're on a speedboat, and he's driving without really trying, or even touching anything. Turns out that Poseidon powers go through into the next life.
It's a beautiful day, with the sun beating down on their backs and her wearing sunglasses (she stole them – shh!) Something tells her that Percy forgot to put on sun cream, but, then again, his body is the son of Apollo, so maybe he doesn't need sun cream.
Leo and Hazel (they're going by those names now) are about their age, just one year younger. Only eighteen, but he asked her to marry him the other day. She said yes without hesitation. Most people, including their parents, are saying that they're too young, but Annabeth disagrees. They've already spent two lives together, even if those were cut short. Their very destinies are intertwined, so they might as well be already married.
They're just making it official.
"Annabeth," a voice says from beside her. She turns to see Percy kneeling down, a red velvet box in his hand. She gasps at he opens it, the diamond ring glinting in the sunlight.
Her eyes begin to fill with tears.
"Leo and Hazel are getting married, and we're older than them, so we are old enough." Her hair whips into her face, but she leaves it this time.
This is it. He's doing what he never had the chance to do in the last life.
"Will you marry me?"
"Do you even have to ask?" she whispers, before grinning widely. "Yes!"
She wraps her arms around him as he stands up, and they kiss, well and truly kiss. It's magical, and she knows, she knows, that this time, they will get a happy ending.
She looks in the mirror.
She doesn't look like she used to.
But that's okay. Because he doesn't look like he used to, either. But he still looks and acts the same.
They found Jason. Reyna was pregnant with their first child. They found each other, even looking different.
Frank and Piper probably will never be found, but they already got their happy endings the first time round.
Second time lucky.
The mirror reflection shows the small bump in her tummy, proof that she really is pregnant and she really will get her happy ending.
The ring on her finger still sparkles.
"I'll never let you go," she whispers. "I hope you'll hold onto me, too."
"I'll always be by your side," he whispers in her ear from behind her.
She smiles.
Because, maybe, just maybe, they'll be second time lucky.
Greek heroes don't get a happy ending, but maybe they can cheat that curse.
Okay, I'm not sure whether I should write an alternate sad ending or not. Please review!