Chapter 1: Chapter 1

HERE YOU GO, JEFF (doe-eyed llama here on ff). NOW LEAVE ME ALONE. also, happy birthday. love you.

Greed is Green

There's a painting of a boy in the attic. It's hiding in one of the far corners, half behind a broken door. Its gold frame attracts her attention in the first place. It's very large, for a painting, almost like the artist who painted it wanted to have enough room for the boy to stand.

The boy, however, isn't standing at all. He's crossed-legged, elbows on his knees, hunched over himself. His dark hair falls over his face. He looks sad, and the first time Annabeth sees him, she can't help but wonder who would paint such a thing.

Then she wonders how it ended up in the attic of all places. She finds herself staring at the picture, standing directly in front of it.

"Are you going to block my sunlight all day," a voice says, "or are you planning on moving anytime soon?"

Annabeth jumps back, startled. She looks behind her, thinking that she hadn't heard anyone else coming up the stairs.

"Down here," the voice says again. Annabeth's eyes are drawn to the painting, and she sees the boy staring up at her, his head now resting on his palm.

"You're a painting," she says stupidly.

"Wow!" the painting replies. "I didn't know that. Aren't you a genius?"

This causes Annabeth to blink. She was just insulted by someone's art work. No wonder it is in the attic, if it's this snarky.

"No need to be so rude," she says back.

"Please accept my apology, daughter of Athena," he says, shifting so he can stand up properly.

"How do you know I'm a daughter of Athena?" she asks, surprised.

"Your eyes," he replies simply. "You all have grey eyes."

"Are you a demigod?" she wonders.

"I was. I don't know if I would still be considered one."

"Because you're a painting?" she fills in.

The boy nods, green eyes uncaring and bored. "Yes."

Annabeth finds herself studying the boy. He's quite older than her, about sixteen years old, maybe a bit younger, but definitely not older than that. He's dressed in dark pants, a white button up shirt and a suit jacket. The outfit is definitely old, as is the painting.

She can tell the painting is old because the paint, which she thinks is oils, is beginning to crack in some-places, which suggests to her that no one has been looking after it. Maybe they don't care.

"How can you talk?" she asks after a moment.

"I was a real person," he says, "before they cursed me. Now I'm stuck in here."

"Oh," Annabeth says. His answer doesn't satisfy her, but she doesn't know what else to say. "I'm sorry."

"Of course you are," the boy says somewhat bitterly, and returns back to sitting hunched over.

That was the end of their interactions. Annabeth returns back downstairs, completely forgetting about the Great Prophecy.

The next time she sneaks back up is a few weeks later. For a while, she had forgotten about him. But suddenly, an urge filled her, and she finds herself back into the dusty corner.

The boy in in his same position, all curled in on himself. Annabeth sits down beside him.

"Hello," she whispers, like she was afraid to startle him.

The boy looks up at her, his eyes bored. "You're back."

"Yes," she says, "I am."

"Isn't the attic off limits?" he asks, "or have things changed since I was your age?"

"I'm a cabin leader, so I can come up here whenever I want."

"You're a bit young," he says, eyeing her.

"I'm eleven," she says, proud of herself.

"You're still young."

"My name is Percy Jackson," he tells her eventually.

"Annabeth Chase," she replies.

Percy nods and leans back in his painting. It's an odd thing to see, watching a two-dimensional figure interact with their environment like it was three-dimensional.

"What year is it, Annabeth?" he asks. His head is back, exposing his Adam's apple.

She tells him the date, waiting for his reaction. He pauses for a moment before humming.

"I was born in 1893," he says after a moment. "I came to Camp in 1905, when I was twelve. Three years later, I was cursed."

"You're fifteen," Annabeth confirms. "You're not that much older than me."

"I'm over a hundred years old," he corrects.

"Technically, but you've been in limbo for most of it."

Percy glares at her, and refuses to say any more.

Luke wonders where she goes during the day, but she just shrugs his questions off. When he asks again, she admits that she's been exploring the attic. He doesn't ask again.

"What do you have against my mother?' Annabeth finally demands. For some reason, Percy had been very insulting. Even more so than usual.

"We're natural enemies," he says, like it was obvious. "And she's a terrible parent."

"They all are," Annabeth says, "But she got me a hat for my birthday."

"How grand. A hat," Percy mocks.

Annabeth pulls the hat out of her pocket. "Watch this."

Once it's on her head, she's invisible. Percy's eyes widened comically. She couldn't deny that she didn't enjoy his surprise.

"An invisibility hat," he murmurs.

She pulls the hat off her head. "I'm twelve now."

He studies her closely. "Still a bit young."

"Do you sleep?" she asks one day.

Percy looks at her like she's insane. "Of course not, I'm a painting."

And that was the end of that.

When it's Christmas time, Annabeth brings some decorations to the attic. Percy watches dully from his frame as she places them around him. She eventually moved him from his dusty, crowded corner so he now sits completely uncovered on a section of wall.

"I called my dad," she says as she hangs a ornament on the corner of the shiny gold frame.

"Call... like a telephone?"

"Yes," she says. Percy glares at the little ball, and reaches up to swat it before realizing he can't.

A long while ago she realized that Percy didn't know most of the technology she had been talking about, and that he probably grew up somewhere below the poverty line. One day she took the time to explain all of the modern technology.

"Continue," he says, like she needs his permission.

"I ended up agreeing to coming home for Christmas, and if it works out, I might try going to school."

"That's... nice." he says eventually.

She studies him carefully. "You'll miss me."

"No, of course I won't."

She giggles. "You like me."

"You're the only person who comes up here," he says defensively. "My only contact to the outside world."

"Yeah, yeah."

She's lying down on her back, on a blanket she had set out a few months ago, right in front of him. She's tired, after staying up the night before, working on a blueprint.

"How'd you end up in there, anyways?" she asks, then regrets it a small bit when she looks up at his face.

He's standing, something he enjoys doing after sitting around all day, waiting for her.

"How old are you, again?" he asks.

"Just turned thirteen, remember?"

"Still too young."

She rolls over to her side, glaring defiantly at him. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

And then she leaves with a huff. Percy is surprised she didn't stamp her feet while she was at it.

She's reading him a fantasy book. He doesn't admit it, but he enjoys listening to the story. Every once and awhile he stops her and asks about a reference that he doesn't get.

Every few paragraphs, she glances up at him. He's leaning against one end of the painting where the frame cuts off the imaginary, grey world he occupies. His eyes are closed. From what Annabeth is able to figure, his frame acts like a wall. He can only walk across from one side of the frame to the other, but he can walk infinitely backwards. Of course, he stays the same size, like he's walking on the spot, but for him it feels like he's walking miles.

Another thing she notices is how handsome he is. She wasn't as able to appreciate it when she was eleven, but boy, now she can.

She continues to read, oblivious to the smile that crosses his face, a look of pure bliss.

She comes back from another year of school, now fourteen. She settles in quickly, doing the customary greetings. On the inside, she anxious to see one of her closest friends. Even if he's a painting. A rude, annoying painting.

"I'm fourteen," she tells him, a hopeful expression on her face.

"So?" he asks.

"Can you tell me how you ended up in there now?"

He hesitates. "I suppose. But it's a long story, and it's almost dinner."

She glares at him. "I don't care if I miss dinner."

"What I care about is Chiron looking for you and finding you up here with me," he says. "I don't care about if you go hungry."

"I don't really mind if he finds out," she says, ignoring his rude comment. "I've been coming up here for years, he can't stop me now."

"Yes, he can."

"What, lock the attic up?" she snorts.

"No," he says leaning forwards. His green eyes that Annabeth has come to know and love darken suddenly. "He'll burn me."

"He wouldn't," she says, scandalized that he would say something like that. Chiron is a mentor to her, and she can't imagine him ever doing anything like that.

Percy almost looks pleased with himself. "He would. And I'll tell you why..."

Annabeth's eyes go larger at the idea of new information.

"After dinner," he finishes with a smirk. Asshole.

She decides to wait until everyone is at the camp fire before going back up. He's hunched over himself, much like he was the first time he met her.

"This better be good," she says once she settles down onto her blankets. He watches her carefully and then begins.

"My mother was very poor," he begins, speaking slowly and quietly. The words seem to be slipping out between his lips. "Her parents died when she was young, and they left her no money. She was sent to live with her uncle, after that, but he died before she was even considered a woman. She carried on living in his house until the debt collectors kicked her out. And then she met my father."

"Who was he?" Annabeth asked.

Percy continued like he hadn't heard her. "She fell in love with him, like they all do, and he left her when she learned she was pregnant with me. No one wanted anything to do with her after that. Her reputation had been ruined."

"That's terrible," Annabeth says, picturing herself in the same situation. What would she have done?

"Yes, it was. I grew up in poverty, in a run-down house. My mother worked odd jobs just so we could scrape by. When I was around eleven years old, she became sick. It was like a cold, at first, and we thought it would pass. But it just became worse and worse until she was bedridden. She died right before Christmas."

The story isn't what she was expecting.

"Like I said before, I came to Camp Half-Blood in 1905, when I was about twelve I was claimed by my father soon after I arrived, and I shared a cabin with my brother and sister. It wasn't long after that I grew to love it here. I had enough food to eat for once; it was like heaven.

"But after a year or so of my arrival, I began to notice a pattern. Many of the other demigods were wealthy. They could go home after the summer to a family that loved them and didn't have to worry about money. It made me angry."

He pauses here and catches her eye. "Do you know what a fatal flaw is?"

"Of course. Mine is hubris."

Percy nods. "I learned that mine was greed, eventually. When I was fourteen, I met someone powerful. He promised me so many things, and I was stupid enough to believe him."

"For a price," Annabeth concludes. She thinks it's interesting that his fatal flaw is greed. Greed is green, she remembers. Just like his eyes. "He wanted something from you."

Percy looks ashamed of himself. "I was very bitter. The loss of my mother still stung, and I couldn't help but wonder if she would have survived if we could have afforded a doctor, or if we had been living in better conditions. The man asked me to help him, and I did. I was caught, almost two years later."

Annabeth is impressed that Percy was able to keep something a secret for so long. She knows he's very rash, and has a short temper. "What did he want you to do, Percy?"

Percy picks at his lip, avoiding her eyes.

"What did you do?" she demands. "Just tell me."

He does. "He asked me to destroy the gods, Annabeth. He asked me to help him kill them, and he promised me my father's throne."

Annabeth leaves after that. Percy doesn't try to stop her. She sits on the story he told her, wondering how he could try and do such a thing. Her mother isn't perfect. She's absent, and Annabeth has only ever had a few conversations with her. Still, she must have impressed the goddess, and the hat she received for her birthday had been proof of that. A hat didn't make up for the previous twelve years, but Annabeth still cared for her mother.

It's two weeks before she goes up to the attic again.

"You're an idiot," she tells him right away.

His face is in his hands, and he's once again sitting cross-legged. His voice is muffled when he speaks. "I suppose."

"You're going to finish this story for me," she says. "You owe me that much."

"That's it," he says, looking slightly confused when he removes his hands from his face. "That's the end."

"You haven't explained how you got caught, or why they put a traitor in a painting instead of just killing you and throwing your soul into Tartarus."

Percy flinches when she calls him a traitor. "I don't know how they found out."

"Try your best," she says sternly. She wants to know. She's surprised he's explained this much of his story. She's also surprised that her I'm in charge voice is working on him.

"Ten or so of the older campers confronted me, my siblings among them. They managed to take my sword away from me, and by then they knew. I didn't even have to confess. They took me to Chiron, and I'm assuming they told the gods what I had been planning. A few days later, I was told my father begged them to spare my pathetic life and the solution was locking me in here. It was your mother's idea, apparently."

Oh, thinks Annabeth. Now she understands Percy's hatred for her mother.

"Someone brought me these nice clothes," he says, pulling at his collar. "And they left me alone for the night. The next morning I woke up here, and my brother and sister carried me up into the attic. The corner they set me in wasn't as cluttered as it was when you found me, but over the years I didn't move and campers just tossed things in front of me. They didn't realize what I was, and Chiron never told anyone."

"Do you know what happened to your siblings?" she wonders.

"Cassie told me when Theo died. I'm not sure what the date was, but she looked older. I was told a few years later that she got married and had a child. I don't know what happened to her after that."

"I'm sorry," she says honestly. She feels like it needs to be said. He'd probably never received such an honest apology before. She's not sorry that he was punished for his actions, but rather that he never got to say goodbye to his family.

Percy gives a small smile. It's full of grief and shame. "Let this be a lesson to you, Annabeth. Don't let your fatal flaw consume you."

Eventually, things return to as they were. Annabeth turns fifteen, and Percy begins to joke about his stupidity.

"I wish they had just killed me," he says one night. "Then I would have been a martyr, but they couldn't even give me that."

Another night, he asks Annabeth how old she is.

"Fifteen, just like I was yesterday."

"We're the same age," Percy says, like he's just realizing this. Maybe he was. Annabeth learns that Percy has a bad perception of time.

"Soon, I'll be older," she tells him. She says it proudly.

He's quiet after that.

Another summer is over and things at Camp Half-Blood seem to be changing. Annabeth hears whispers of things happening. Dark, sinister things are rising, but Annabeth isn't exactly sure what.

When she comes back the next summer, many campers are missing. Chiron seems to be growing older and older as the days go on. Training isn't a joke any longer.

She's sixteen now. She's not a fool.

These things have been happening for years, but she had never really noticed before.

The back of her mind knows what's happening, and she realizes that something is bound to come sooner than later.

She brings a book and popcorn to the attic. No one stops her as she goes up the stairs. They never even wonder.

"I'll be going home soon," she says a few weeks later.

"Why?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing.

"It's my grandma's birthday party. My dad wants me to go. He decided I should just stay home after that, because coming back after would just be a hassle. I'll be back for Christmas, though. I promised Luke I'd come by."

"When do you leave?"

"Saturday. Two days from now."

"I see."

Annabeth realizes he's upset by her leaving, and decides not to tease him about it. Perhaps he hadn't realized that she isn't going to be his forever. She almost wished his frame wasn't so big so that she could sneak him out of the attic and take him with her.

"I'm a fool," he groans Friday night, burying his face in his hands, and then ruffling his unkempt hair.

"We already knew that," she jokes.

"It's not funny," he moans.

"What's wrong?" she asks, now concerned.

"You're leaving tomorrow."

"Yes, I am."

He moans again, and it begins to annoy her.

"Just tell me what your problem is," she says, exasperated.

He looks at her, eyes somber as he rests his chin on his palm. "I regret everything."

"Everything?" she asks, knowing what he's talking about. "Why the change of heart?"

"You're leaving tomorrow," he says simply. "And I won't be able to stand a single day that you're gone."

"You've done it before," she says gently. "You'll have to do it again."

He stares at her with an expression she can't identify. "But I wasn't in love with you back then."

"Oh," she says. "Oh, no."

"I'm sorry," he says, now suddenly meek. That's not something she sees often from him.

"Don't be," she says awkwardly. "I love you too, Percy, but I can't spend the rest of my life with a painting."

"I know. I wish you could. I'm terribly greedy, you know."

She chuckles. "I wish I could. I wish things were different."

Percy stares at the wall behind her.

"I'm a fool," he says again. "Will you come see me before you leave tomorrow?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she smiles, and he hesitantly grins back.

Annabeth carefully pulls down the attic door. It's early in the morning, but it's the only time if she wants to keep her promise. She begins to grin as she comes around a large trunk, expecting to see Percy standing up, ready to say goodbye.

Instead, she sees an empty grey background, and a boy on the floor. At first she panics, wondering what happened to Percy, and wondering who the boy on the floor is. That's when she realizes that the boy on the floor, huddled up in her blankets, is wearing his clothes.

He's asleep, she notices. Painting don't need sleep. Paintings don't fall out of their frame at night and become real.

Well, she thinks to herself, I suppose they do if they were real to begin with.

"Percy," she calls out, not daring to approach.

He mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

"Percy," she says, this time louder.

He jumps slightly, before blinking awake. "Hello."

"Good morning," she says.

He stands up and brushes his ever-messy hair out of his face. "You're leaving today."

"I might not," she says.

"Really? Why not?" his eyes are bright with excitement.

"Percy," she says slowly, "look behind you."

Percy does, he stares at his frame and the empty picture for a second before realizing what had happened. He stumbles back so fast that he trips over her blankets and falls to the ground with a thump.

"Ow," he says right away.

"Shh!" she responds quickly, "no one else is awake."

She isn't sure if Percy hears what she's saying, because he's so entranced with his picture frame.

"Did you do this?" he asks eventually, standing back up. He resembles a baby giraffe learning to get up for the first time.

"No, you were like this when I came in."

He glances around the room, stopping at Annabeth. "Is this real?" he asks bluntly.

"I hope so," she replies. "Maybe you should sit down."

He looks so confused as she holds his elbow, helping him lower himself to the floor. They sit in silence as Percy takes in everything. Annabeth is shocked as well, but maybe not as much as Percy.

"Are you okay?" she whispers.

"You're warm," he whispers back. "I miss feeling warm."

In response, she picks up one of her many blankets and wraps it around his shoulders.

"Was it cold in there?" she says without thinking. She wonders if she should have waited a bit before asking anything about his old prison. But he doesn't get angry, he looks almost disgusted.

"I couldn't feel anything," he says. "I could see, I could hear, in a way I could tell when I was moving, but I couldn't feel any of it. I knew, but I couldn't feel."

"Well, you're free, now."

"For now," he corrects. "I don't imagine they'll let me stay around long."

Annabeth freezes. She hadn't considered that.

"I'll beg my mother, if I have to," she says. "I think you've changed."

He sighs. "I don't know, have I?"

Here, she laughs tentatively. "You were kind of mean to me at first. Now you like me."

"I love you," he says. "There's a difference."

"How could you feel love for me if you couldn't feel anything," she asks skeptically, but her smile is teasing.

"There are some things you just know," he says like it's the most simple thing in the world.

"You can't stay up here forever," she says a few minutes later.

"I can try," he replies.

"Don't be stupid," she says. "It doesn't suit you."

He sighs and leans back, something she's seen him do many times. "As soon as I come down, Chiron is going to call the gods, and they're going to put me right back inside. After debating whether they should kill me, of course."

"I'll beg my mother. I'll tell her everything," she says in a no-monkey-business tone. "I won't let her."

"When that plan doesn't work," Percy says, "please bring a knife to the room they'll be holding me in."

"What?" she splutters, "why would you need a knife?"

"To kill myself," he says bluntly. "I won't be going back in there."

By the time she coaxes Percy from the attic, she realizes breakfast must be in full swing. What's she supposed to do? Apologize to Percy and then bring him back up?

When she tells him breakfast is going on, and that's where Chiron is, Percy simply informs her that he's hungry.

They don't run into anyone on their way out, which Annabeth considers a blessing, and they make it to the Pavilion without problems. Was it a good omen?

"Will you sit with me?" he asks. She nods, suddenly feeling nervous. She feels like she's done something she shouldn't have. Maybe this was somehow all her fault.

The Pavilion is the same as always. She lets Percy lead her to an empty table, which she remember's is Poseidon's and has been empty been since the '40s.

"We can't sit here," she says. "This is Poseidon's-"

"I know," he says. "Sit down."

She feels like a fish, aware that the campers are watching her every move now. She sits down.

The nymphs take food to their table, eyeing Percy. He looks at his goblet for a minute, and then when it fills up, he takes a giant swig. "Tastes a bit off, but it's still great."

"What is it?"

"Coca Cola," he says, grinning.

She isn't impressed. "For breakfast? Really?"

"Don't judge me. It's been a century."

Annabeth notices how silent everyone is. It must be a record. Then, the clip clops of a horse's hooves fill the air.

Chiron is standing over them. He looks angry, though it's mostly directed towards Percy. "Annabeth, please return to your table."

Percy raises his hand to stop her. "She can stay here."

Chiron opens his mouth to protest, but Percy interrupts. "At least let me finish breakfast, old man."

The centaur leaves reluctantly, but Annabeth can feel his eyes on them the entire time. She eats her baguette slice, while Percy happily chews on pancakes. Once he finishes that, he moves on to fruit, and then toast that's coated in sugar. At this point, people are beginning to leave, ready for their morning activities. Annabeth can tell some are waiting to see the inevitable showdown between the mysterious newcomer and Chiron.

"You're going to make yourself sick," she says after his third glass of coke.

He laughs, it's somewhat maniacal. "I don't care, as long as I don't have to clean it up."

As long as I don't have to smell it, thinks Annabeth.

Next he eats an entire orange, savouring it and chewing it all until the juice is gone, before swallowing the slice. When he finishes, he admits he feels sick.

Chiron comes back, insisting that Annabeth rejoins her cabin mates. She tries to refuse, but one look from her mentor causes her close her mouth. She sits on the bench, frozen, until Luke appears.

At this point in his life, Luke is considered a veteran. He's finished high school with the help of the camp, and maybe a little bit of cheating (or a lot of cheating), and is now working on getting a degree. He spends his summers and Christmas breaks at Camp, now getting paid as an official instructor.

Luke has to almost lift Annabeth off the bench, while Chiron picks Percy up by the arm and begins to drag him towards the Big House. Her last look of him is Percy loudly complaining about his stomach, clutching it tightly with one arm, and the other tightly in Chiron's grip. Dionysus is following behind, watching Percy with suspicion, no doubt trying to remember his name or something like that.

"Who was that?" Luke asks when they're far enough away.

"His name is Percy Jackson," she answers honestly.

"What'd he do to piss Chiron off so much?" Luke wonders.

"He came downstairs from the attic."

The next two hours of her life are the longest. Finally, Travis or Connor Stoll tells her and Luke that there is an immediate meeting. Whichever of the Stolls it was looks a bit reluctant to show up. He explains that Chiron appears to be in a bad mood.

Annabeth has a feeling she will be the guest of honour.

"For the next week," Chiron starts after they all sit, "the basement will be off limits, as will the attic, to all campers unless they have permission from myself, or Mr. D."

The cabin leaders begin to whisper amongst themselves, wondering why.

"Annabeth," Chiron says, "I will have to ask you to avoid the Big House until further notice."

"What!" she exclaims. "That's not fair-"

"Do you realize who that boy is?" he interrupts, not quite yelling, but still managing to startle her. He'd never raised his voice at her before. Annabeth begins to understand how unsettling Percy's sudden reappearance was.

"I'm not an idiot," she says, now more calm. "I know who he is."

"Do you know what he's done?"

"I'm not an idiot," she repeats.

"Is someone going to explain what's going on?" Clarisse from the Ares cabin demands loudly.

Chiron sighs, looking old, "The boy Annabeth showed up to breakfast with is named Percy Jackson."

Luke glances at Annabeth.

"He was a student of mine a long, long time ago," Chiron continues, "Until he did some terrible things. The gods decided to punish him, though they spared his life by his father's request."

"Who's his father?" Beckendorf asks.

"It's Poseidon," Annabeth says. "Isn't it?"

Chiron nods gravely. "He has picked a terrible time to escape. Maybe if things were different..."

"What'd he do?" Clarisse asks in a way that only a child of Ares could manage.

"Oh, just tell them," Mr. D says after Chiron internally debates on whether or not he should. "Make an example of him."

"He awoke the titan Kronos," Chiron says gravely, after a moment. "He intended on destroying the gods."

There's the initial reaction of shock, then anger. Annabeth is glad Chiron has specifically told anyone where Percy is being held, because she's sure at least half of the twelve demigods there look ready to kill him. The other half are still in a state of shock.

"I have already notified the Olympians, and they are calling a meeting. I assume very shortly he will be returned to where he belongs."

"Just where is that?" Katie Gardner says.

"It's a long story," Chiron answers, "but he was placed inside a painting that was left in the attic, which leads us to the bigger question: how he escaped."

"A painting?" Luke mutters. "What kind of a prison is that?"

"An effective one," Mr. D says. "He was quite mad when he realized he was trapped."

"It held for a hundred years," Chiron says, "and he shouldn't have been able to escape without help."

Now, all eyes turn to Annabeth.

"It wasn't me!" she says quickly. "But I've been talking to him for years."

"Is that what you meant by 'exploring the attic'?" Luke asks in disbelief. He was still having a hard time getting over the fact that Annabeth wasn't the innocent seven year old she used to be.

She nods. "He only told me what he did when I was fourteen. But the first time I met him, I was in the attic looking for the Great Prophecy. I got distracted, and I found the painting behind an old door. I just stared at it for a minute before he basically told me to stop blocking his sunlight."

Here, someone gives a muffled laugh.

"He kind of scared me off, and I didn't go back up for a few weeks. He wasn't as rude the next time, so I kept coming back. Eventually, we became friends. This morning, when I came to say goodbye, I found him sleeping on the floor, covered in my blankets."

"Are you sure, Annabell?" Mr. D asks. She briefly considers a sarcastic response, but instead nods her head.

"I didn't let him out, I swear. I wouldn't know how," she says.

"Maybe it was an accident," Luke suggests gently.

"I didn't even touch the frame," she says defensively, leaning away from Luke slightly. "I said goodbye last night, and this morning I went up early to tell him I was leaving. That's it!"

Chiron stares at her, "he says you may have had something to do with it."

"That bastard," she curses before she can help herself. She covers her mouth quickly. It wasn't like Chiron would punish her for swearing, but it still felt weird to do it in front of him.

"To be honest," Chiron says, ignoring her crude language, "I'm not even sure he knows how he did it, but he seems quite pleased with himself."

Annabeth can't help but admit to herself that it would seem like Percy to brag about something like this, even if he was confused as everyone else.

"I hope you'll understand that we'll need people to keep an eye on him," Chiron says. "At least two at a time, during all times of the day. Those who volunteer will be excused from their chores."

She stays behind afterwards and asks if she's allowed to visit him. Chiron tells her no. Luke walks her back to her cabin, though she wouldn't consider it escorting. She stays there for the rest of the day.

Two days later, Annabeth notices a woman standing on the edge of the arena. She's distracted, and narrowly avoids having an untrained camper cut off her arm. "Find someone else to practice with," she says distractedly, before heading off.

She isn't surprised to see that it's her mother.

"Annabeth," her mother greets. "You've grown."

"It's been a while since you've last seen me," she says casually.

"We thought we'd ask you some questions about your friend," Athena says, and begins to lead Annabeth towards the Big House.

"Percy?" she asks. Her mother nods mutely. "Mother, please, you can't put him back."

"Have you read the Great Prophecy?" Athena asks. When Annabeth says yes, she continues. "Soon, Perseus will turn sixteen."

"Oh, gods," Annabeth says, realizing the repercussions of this. "He's changed. He's not the same person he was."

"Maybe not," Athena says, "But Zeus doesn't want Perseus to be the one to hold our fate in his hands."

"Mother-"

"Putting him back in the painting may be the only way to save his life, daughter, which is what you want, isn't it?"

"That's not a life," she says firmly. "He told me himself that he'd rather be dead."

Athena sighs and says to herself, "his father still loves him, though I'm not sure why."

"I do too, mother. I love him."

Athena hums in reply. She doesn't look particularly impressed or moved by Annabeth's words.

She recognizes the gods waiting in the living room of the Big House. It seems so funny to seem them in there, a place where they don't really belong. They look so tiny.

Zeus is standing beside his brother, Poseidon, Apollo is relaxing on the couch with Dionysus, and Annabeth's mother joins her father.

Today, she seems to be acting civil towards Poseidon, Annabeth notices. The sea god seems somber. Annabeth can't blame him. She thinks back to what Athena said about Poseidon still loving Percy.

Chiron arrives, and takes them to the Meeting Room. She thinks it's funny, watching Zeus and the other gods settle in around a ping-pong table. Dionysus is the only one who doesn't look extremely out of place.

"Annabeth," Apollo says, officially starting their meeting. He almost remind her of Luke, except more beach boy-ish and more carefree. She's glad it's him that addresses her first, "Can you tell us about how you met Percy?"

She begins her story, noticing that the some look mildly annoyed when she tells them how easily she got into the attic. Maybe it was because of how old she was at the time. Being a cabin leader had privileges, and going to the attic was one of them.

She skips the description of most of their long friendship, vaguely describing going up to the attic at different times over the past five years. She tells them how Percy described his actions, and that he told her how he regretted it.

She didn't, however, tell them how he admitted he was in love with her.

When she described bringing him down for breakfast, Zeus tells her to stop. Her mother thanks her for her input and tells her she's free to leave. Annabeth bites her lip.

"Can I stay?" she asks quietly. "He's my best friend."

Chiron eyes her sadly. Her mother looks to Zeus quickly, but before the king of the gods can protest, she says yes. Zeus now looks more annoyed than he was earlier, which Annabeth thinks won't be a good thing for Percy.

"Bring up the boy," Zeus commands. Chiron leaves the room, leaving Annabeth alone with the giants. She stares at the table until she hears Chiron come back, with three demigods in tow. One is a Hermes camper, unclaimed, and the other is a son of Ares. If she can remember correctly, they formed an odd friendship not long after they met.

Percy is in between them with a blank expression on his face. He almost looks bored with the whole situation. He's put at the end of the table, across from Zeus and his father. Annabeth has to lean around her mother to get a good view of him.

"Lord Zeus," he says, placing his hands on the table. Annabeth notices that they're held together with a zip-tie, which she thinks is stupid. It's quite easy to break one when your hands are in front of you. Annabeth wonders if one of the campers did that to make themselves feel better.

He stares Zeus in the eye, and Annabeth can't help but wonder when he got so cocky. This wasn't the boy who shyly told her his feelings for her a few nights before. She knows it's all an act, Percy's way of dealing with the fear he must be going through right now.

"Percy," Poseidon says, staring at his son. Percy ignores him.

"How did you break out, boy?" Zeus says, also ignoring Poseidon.

"I don't know," Percy admits.

Apollo leans forwards in his seat, staring at Percy intently. "He's telling the truth."

Outside, Annabeth hears thunder.

"Then how did he get out?" Zeus demands. "Athena herself came up with the idea- it wouldn't just release him."

"I checked the frame," Athena says. "It's still intact."

The frame, Annabeth thinks. It must have been what was keeping him imprisoned all this time. That was what the curse was anchored to.

The gods are silent for a moment and then-

"Sorry I'm late!" a woman announces as she bursts in. Annabeth is immediately stricken by how beautiful she is. She looks familiar. Dark hair, heart shaped face, dark grey eyes… she looks like Athena.

"Aphrodite?" Poseidon says, surprised.

Judging by the looks on the other gods faces, Aphrodite wasn't invited to their little meeting.

"Hello, Perseus!" she says happily, going over to the son of Poseidon. "Look at you! You look older than the last time I've seen you."

"It's been a hundred years," he says dryly.

"Still as cute," she says pinching his cheeks. Annabeth is fairly sure his eye twitches. "Do me a favour, doll face?"

She pulls a silver mirror out of her bag and gives it to Percy. He stares at it for a minute, before standing up. He holds it awkwardly, since his hands are still together, but he does as he's told.

Aphrodite adjusts the mirror so she can see better, and Annabeth is shocked by the reflection. The Aphrodite in the mirror has changed. Her hair is now blonde, her eyes are a bit lighter, her makeup is different. Annabeth swallows, wondering if the others are seeing the same thing.

When Annabeth looks away from the reflection, she finds Apollo staring at her. Aphrodite continues to apply mascara, oblivious to how she interrupted the meeting. Finally, she sits down beside Percy, on a chair that wasn't there before.

"Can we get to the good questions?" Aphrodite asks, directing the question to Percy. The other Olympians aren't really sure how to react to her sudden appearance.

"No offense-" Percy starts but Aphrodite steamrolls right over him.

"How long have you been in love with Annabeth for?" she asks bluntly. Annabeth chokes on her spit, and Percy goes bright red. His cocky image has been irreversibly shattered.

"I'm not!" he says immediately.

Apollo snorts, now leaning back in his chair. "He's lying."

If possible, Percy blushes even more.

"It was you," Athena realizes, big, stormy eyes on Aphrodite. "You let him out."

"Well duh," Aphrodite says. "This is the most exciting thing I've done all year!"

"And it's only the beginning of August," Apollo mutters sarcastically.

"Aphrodite, do you realize what you could have done?" Zeus demands. His face has become more red than earlier.

"I'm not stupid," she says, picking at her nails. "I'm the goddess of love, and I know love when I see it."

"This boy has the potential to destroy us-" Zeus continues.

"He had," interjects Aphrodite.

"-and he has tried before."

"Yes, Zeus, you're right. He has tried before, and that was many years ago," here, she pats Percy's arms. "Before, he didn't have any reason not to destroy us."

"What difference is a hundred years," Zeus scoffs. "Mortals don't change."

"And we do?" she asks. "Look at us, doomed to repeat ourselves, millennia after millennia. Perhaps Perseus hasn't changed. Maybe he's still an angry boy who just wants some attention and some love."

Annabeth hadn't been sure Aphrodite was capable of such deep thought.

"But his situation has changed. Now he has a reason to fight for us, and not against."

"What's your point?" Dionysus asks, looking up from a magazine he acquired at some point.

"My point," Aphrodite says, smiling big, "is that Perseus has fallen in love with Miss Chase."

No one else in the room seems to see the point, but they keep their mouths shut.

"So, I absolutely forbid you to put him back in that ugly picture frame."

Annabeth isn't really sure what to think as everyone but herself, Percy, Dionysus and Poseidon stand up and begin to yell at Aphrodite. The goddess takes it all calmly, and seems to even be amused by it. She reaches over to Percy and undoes his zip-tie. He rubs his wrists and smiles at the goddess.

"Annabeth," she says over the yelling, "Come sit with us.'

Annabeth was sure if there was a moral of the day, it would to be not to mess with the love goddess, so she obeys.

"Closer," Aphrodite says, motioning for her to squish right up against Percy. Percy seems to find this awkward, having grown up in a time where everything was very conservative. "Hmmm," the goddess says, before she grabs Annabeth's hand, and then Percy's and smushing them together.

At this point, the others have taken to yelling at each other. Even Poseidon has joined, as has Dionysus, but Annabeth is fairly sure she hears him yelling about his banishment and how he hates being sober.

"ENOUGH!" Poseidon yells finally, after the unproductive fighting has continued for a few minutes. "We're acting like children."

Athena's face gains a sour expression. "For once, I agree."

"As do I," says Apollo. "This is getting us nowhere."

Zeus fumes silently, but the storm outside picks up.

Athena notices Percy and Annabeth's joined hands, though she doesn't comment.

"Percy," Poseidon once again addresses his son. This time, Percy looks up. "Have you heard of the Great Prophecy?"

Percy frowns. "I don't know the details."

"It was presented to us by the Oracle in the 1940s. It talks of a demigod, born to either myself or my brothers, who will turn sixteen and decide the fate of Olympus."

"And you think it'll be me?" he says, staring his father dead in the eye.

"You're the only candidate alive at the moment, and you birthday is only two weeks away."

"I'll be sixteen," Percy says, nodding slowly. "How do you know I won't go back to Kronos?"

Zeus opened his mouth to shout something, probably something along the lines of 'I told you so!'

"Aphrodite seems to think that you falling in love with the daughter of Athena will help you change your mind."

"I don't think," Aphrodite says proudly, "I know."

"Yes," Poseidon says, appeasing the love goddess. "My brother seems to think we should just kill you, but I refuse to let that happen."

"We can't avoid the prophecy forever," says Apollo to the group. "Who says the next candidate won't be even worse?"

Zeus glares at Percy as if to say, 'this is the epitome of worse'.

Percy just looks a little bit smug.

"What about an oath?" Annabeth blurts out.

Athena blinks down at her daughter, and then gives a small smile.

"On the Styx?" Percy asks Annabeth.

"That's not enough," Zeus says. "Oaths don't-"

"Maybe not for immortal gods," Percy interrupts, "but breaking an oath on the Styx means painful death for a demigod."

"I do believe his honour would hold him to it, Father," Athena says.

Percy stands up, dropping Annabeth's hand. "I, Perseus Jackson swear on the River of Styx that I shall side with the Olympians as long as the Great Prophecy is still valid, and as long as they do not betray me."

"Interesting word choice, demigod," Athena says, studying him. She looks mildly unimpressed, but Annabeth thinks that she looks at everyone that way, unless she spawned them or is romantically interested in them.

"Can I leave now?" Percy asks, now bored, like he hadn't just made a life changing oath. His unsaid message floats through the air, clear. I don't trust you.

"Sure," Aphrodite says, waving her hand. "Have fun, you two. I have high hopes for this relationship."

Annabeth feels herself blush as she follows Percy out of the room. Behind her, she hears Aphrodite yell at them to hold hands.

Once they're a safe distance from the Big House, Percy drops to the ground so he's facing the sky. Annabeth almost asks him if he's okay, but he starts laughing hysterically before she can.

"I've never been so scared in my life," he tells her, "and I've done some pretty stupid things."

"And now you'll have time to do many more," she says, lying down beside him.

His head lolls to the side, and he now looks her in the eye. "I'm so happy. I don't think I've felt like this since I was a child."

"Yeah?"

"My mom brought me home a piece of candy one day, when I was about eight, and it was my first time ever eating something like that. We sat and the kitchen table and shared it."

"How do you share a piece of candy?" she asks.

"You take a lick and pass it on," he says matter-of-factly.

"That's gross." She makes a face at him, but then smiles. She's so happy that she can't put it into words, and she can't imagine this feeling ever going away.

He shrugs. "Things were different back then."

"Are we really just going to lie here on the grass?"

"Yes. I really missed grass."

Annabeth laughs. "Of course you did."

"Wait," Percy says, "do I get to sleep in my cabin now?"

"I would think so."

"Let's go see," he says, pulling Annabeth by the hand, and then not letting go.

He says the cabin looks mostly the same, just emptier, and sad. He sits down on one bed and stares at one of the ones across.

"That was Theo's bed," he says, pointing to it. "That was Cassie's."

She sits beside him as he stares at the beds. They sit there for almost an hour, mostly in silence.

Dinner is tense. Annabeth sits with her siblings while Percy sits at his own table. The entire camp is staring at him since the other cabin leaders no doubt passed on the story of his deeds.

Someone dares to throw an entire pizza slice at his head. It misses, thankfully, but lands on the table beside him. Percy gawks at it for a moment, before picking it up and taking a bite. He frowns, taking it in, before taking another bite.

The camper looks scandalized that Percy would eat his second hand pizza, but others laugh.

The next day, Percy decides to follow Annabeth around. She leads her cabin mates though their daily activities, Percy sometimes throwing in pearls of wisdom.

When Annabeth reaches the arena, dread fills her stomach. The Ares cabin is already milling around, playing with their swords and murdering dummies.

The feeling intensifies when Clarisse spots Percy and marches towards him.

"Jackson," she says, right up in his personal space. "Come here to get your ass kicked?"

"Not today," he says back, "and definitely not by you."

Clarisse narrows her eyes. "Come on then, pretty boy, let's fight."

"I don't have my sword," he shrugs.

"Go find another one," she growls, pointing to the sword rack.

"I only fight with mine."

Clarisse is now angry. Very angry. "Are you fucking scared or something? Wipe that look off your face."

The look she was talking about was a slightly scandalized look that crossed Percy's face while she was talking.

"Excuse me," he apologizes, "it's just that my mother taught me not to swear in front of ladies, and hearing you use that language surprised me."

"I'm not a lady," Clarisse says, and her brows crease in a way that shows she slightly confused. So is Annabeth.

Annabeth watches in horror as Percy's eyes travel downward slightly, to Clarisse's chest, before quickly snapping back up. It takes a moment for Clarisse to realize what happened and when she does, her face turns red.

"You, me, after dinner, right here. You better show up, Pervert Jackson, or I'm going to drag your ass down here."

Once she stomps off, a smirk passes Percy's lips. Annabeth realizes that this is what he had planned all along.

"He's going to get himself killed," she tells Chiron. Percy is off who-knows-where. She had briefly panicked before realizing he already knew his way around.

Chiron sighs and rubs a hand over his weary face. "He never did like the Ares cabin."

"He didn't have to provoke her like that," Annabeth huffs.

"No, he shouldn't have. He already has enough enemies, he doesn't need the entire Ares cabin out to kill him."

Annabeth bites her lip. "I think he's going to have to face her, though it might not be today if he plays his cards right, he'll have to eventually. He'll need his sword."

"He can use a practice sword," Chiron says simply.

"I think he'd rather fight her bare handed."

Chiron now sighs again. "I wouldn't put it past him."

Right after dinner, Chiron heads to the Poseidon table. Percy stares at him expectantly, before Chiron reaches into his pocket and pulls out a golden pen. Percy grins largely at the centaur before putting the pen in his pocket.

Together, most of camp heads towards the arena to watch the fight of the year.

Oh, gods, Annabeth thinks as Percy's sword goes flying out of his hands. Up until that point, he had been excellent, but all of a sudden, Clarisse was able to knock it out of his hands in a move that any rookie should have been able to deflect.

He stares calmly at it, before dodging to the right, attempting to get it. Clarisse is quicker, and is all of a sudden standing directly in front of it.

"You done, Jackson?"

"No," he replies happily. "I'm quite enjoying this. I think we should continue on."

Clarisse blinks, "are you planning on fighting me with your bare hands?"

He shrugs, "if I have to. But I don't plan to."

For the next few minutes, Percy makes some pretty bad attempts to reach his sword. Clarisse defends it fiercely.

Eventually, she tells him if he asks nicely that she'd consider giving it back.

"No," Percy says, pulling the golden pen from before out of his pocket, "I think I'll just use this instead."

And then he pulls the cap off, and the sword is once again in his hand.

Before anyone knows what's happening, least of all Clarisse, Percy lunges forward and slices down with a strength he hadn't had before. It slices right through the shaft of her spear.

Annabeth truly believes that Percy intends to die before he has a chance to fulfil the prophecy.

The sun's rays are barely leaking in through her windows when she hears yelling from outside. She's out of bed before she realizes what she's doing, and slips her shoes on quickly.

It's cold, she thinks at first, running to the source of her early wakeup call. She had feared it was Percy already fighting with someone, but what awaits her is much, much worse.

She reaches Thalia's pine to see an army waiting for her. She stumbles back, so grateful for the wards that stopped any unwanted visitors from entering camp.

By now, others are starting to show up. She sees Percy stumble towards her, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. It's so odd to see him in different clothes. She wonders where he got them from, and if he likes them. They're definitely different than the things he would have worn in his time period.

"What's this?" he asks. He doesn't look awake.

"I don't know," she whispers back, almost afraid the monsters will hear her. "You have drool on your face."

Percy immediately wipes, evidence that he's heard something along the lines before.

"What do you want?" someone finally yells at the monsters.

"We're here for the boy," a monster says, one that even Annabeth isn't sure she recognizes. "His old master wants him back."

All eyes turn to Percy.

"Shame," he says. "I quite like it here."

The atmosphere could have been cut with a butter knife.

"Perseus Jackson," another says. "He will not rest until you return."

"That's too bad," Percy says. "He'll be waiting a long time, then."

"Come with us, boy," the first says. "Make this easier for everyone."

"If he wants me, he'll have to come get me himself."

"Oh," a monster cackled, "he will."

Breakfast is a quiet affair. Percy contemplates the morning's events as he eats fruit. Annabeth wishes she could sit with him, and she wishes she could ask what's on his mind.

Chiron asks all cabin leaders to attend another short notice meeting, and almost immediately, everyone heads to the meeting room.

"This is all his fault," someone sulks.

Percy glares in their general direction.

"Blaming anyone will solve nothing," Chiron says sternly.

"So this Great Prophecy," Silena says hesitantly, like she isn't supposed to be talking about it. "It's going to happen soon?"

"Most likely. Kronos has been gathering his forces for years in secret." Annabeth thinks of all the campers who went missing over the last year. She comes to the conclusion that people must have been leaving for years, but she just didn't noticed. She was otherwise occupied.

"Why didn't we hear anything about that before?" Clarisse demands. "You'd think we'd notice."

"He's been very subtle. Before, he didn't have a specific deadline, though now he does."

"When's D-day?" Luke asks.

"August 18th," Percy says. "That's my birthday."

Happy birthday, Annabeth thinks. Here's some cake with a side of angry titan.

They decide that sword, archery and other forms of combat are now priority. Classes like canoeing and arts and crafts are cancelled, being replaced with things like healing and emergency first aid. Annabeth helps her cabin plan, and most she takes a few hours a day going over escape roots with the younger campers. They do drills, and more drills.

Surprisingly, Percy is on the forefront of it all. He spends most of his day teaching younger kids how to defend themselves, and Annabeth is able to tell that they love him right away. He's a natural leader, even if he doesn't realize it.

Sometimes she notices Chiron studying the son of Poseidon, either when he's helping out in things like war strategy meetings, or practicing his own powers.

The younger children also realize if they approach Percy when he's relearning how to master his powers, he'll either give them an awesome show, waves to surf on, or other things like water to walk on, or giant platforms to dive off of.

In a matter of days - no, hours- he's wormed his way into their hearts.

The older campers are still slightly weary of him, but after word of his oath circulates around camp (which Annabeth had nothing to do with), they begin to warm up. They didn't seem to find any loopholes, and they knew that the river Styx wasn't something you swore on lightly.

They're all very busy, but no one complains. Annabeth is worried about the younger children who haven't had as much time to train. Who hadn't had as much time to even live. That's why she splits them up into groups, teaches them the best and fastest ways to get out of camp and to the vans. She also shows them where the keys are, and teaches a few how to drive.

She tells them, though, that they are only supposed to leave if everything goes to Hell in a handbasket. She doesn't want to have to chase down a few jumpy demigods if they win.

Most of all, she's worried about Percy. She isn't really sure where they are in the relationship way of things, considering Percy has an early 20th century way of looking at things, but sometimes they hold hands. He blushes when she kisses him on the cheek, which makes her grin.

But he's already admitted he's in love with her, and she had said something along the lines back. That made them practically official.

Right?

Percy is already pushing himself harder than she'd ever seen anyone do. He's always on the move, leaving Annabeth to wonder if he's actually been sleeping. Once she finds him practicing on dummies late at night to the light of a torch.

She's so close to yelling at him, but instead she takes him back to his cabin, and make sure he's asleep before heading back to her's.

Now, after almost five days of preparation, only a slightly more than a week to Percy's birthday, she gets a break. She's relaxing on the beach, just watching Percy. She's too stressed to do anything else. He creates shows for her, making the saltwater jump and twirl into the air. Finally, he takes a break, though he does it on top of the water. He makes a beach chair and sits on it, smiling at her.

"Show off," she says.

If possible, his grin widens. "Come here," he says in return.

She rolls her eyes and stands on the edge of the surf.

"A bit closer."

She pushes her toe towards water ever so slightly.

"You'll have to try a bit harder than that."

With a sigh, she puts her foot down on top of the water. Even after seeing him do things like this for other people, it still surprises her when her foot doesn't fall through. She gasps slightly, which makes Percy laugh. She places her other foot on top of a tiny wave, and watches it as it comes up to meet her foot. It supports her, which makes her laugh.

Wow, she's walking on water.

She keeps placing one foot in front of the other until she's only a few feet away from Percy.

"Just a little bit closer," he says. As she takes another step, a beach chair forms beside Percy.

"You expect me to sit on that?" she ask. "I'm going to get wet."

"Just sit," he says, exasperated. She does, and gasps again when she feels herself touch the water, but remain dry.

"This is amazing," she says simply.

"Theo was better at it," he says. "He made a house once."

"And entire house?" she says with wonder. "Made of water?"

"Yeah, he lived in it for a week."

"What about your sister?

He thinks for a minute. "Cassie was alway very gentle, really, and she was humble. She never showed off, but she was really good at healing herself and others."

"With water?" Annabeth asks.

He nods again. "She just had to be touching it, or had to have drank some earlier. Apparently you're made mostly of water, so you can fix yourself with water."

"What are you good at?" she says, pushing back in her chair and feeling the chair adjust to suit her needs.

Percy frowns, staring at the forest of the Long Island Sound. "In a way I was kind of a jack of all trades. I could do things Cassie and Theo could do, but I could also do things they couldn't. I was never exceptionally good at anything, really, but they always told me they thought I was more powerful."

"You're very modest," she teases.

He lolls his head over to the side just to glare at her. "I'm telling the truth."

She smiles. "I believe you."

"Once, when I was about thirteen, I got angry at someone, I don't even remember who, but I made the glass of water they were holding explode."

Annabeth swallows the wrong way. "Did you mean to?"

"No," Percy shakes his head. "I just did it by accident."

"You know," Annabeth begins and repeats his earlier words, "the human body is mostly made of water. Maybe you can make Kronos's body evaporate or something."

He laughs, "I'll try."

They sit for a while longer, before Percy says, "do you trust me?"

She wonders for a split second. "I guess."

"Hold your breath!"

She doesn't get long to take in a breath, or close her eyes before her chair collapses and gravity pulls her under. She feels something tug on her ankle, and she wonders for a second if it's Percy, but it just feels like a rope.

It's water, she realizes. Water was tugging her under. Her eyes fly open, and she blinks twice before she can really see. The first thing she notices is Percy's orange shirt right in front of her. He catches her looking and winks.

Then, he holds up a finger. The water around her falls through an imaginary floor, leaving a little bubble of just air. She's standing in it with Percy, who's grinning like a fool.

"How?" she manages to ask through her cloud of amazement.

"I just took all the air in the water and made a bubble," he shrugs, over simplifying it.

"Could Cassie and Theo do anything like this?"

He shakes his head staring off into the ocean floor. "We can sit down, if you want."

They do, and Annabeth can't help but think the bubble reminds her of the Wizard of Oz. She doesn't try to tell that to Percy, knowing that it was about thirty years ahead of his time.

Slowly, they sink to the bottom of the ocean. They weren't far off shore, so light still leaked through the water, and she could see perfectly fine. It was full of a seaweed like plant, and lots and lots of fish. Sometimes they would be brave enough to approach the bubble, making Percy smile and reach through the bubble and touch their sides.

She watched in amazement. Fish usually didn't behave like this.

"Why do they let you do that?" she asks.

"They may have never met me, but they know who I am," he replies. "You can try."

She blinks confusedly and stares at the wall of the bubble. Then, she reaches through, which was funny because the water on the outside moulded to fit her hand as she did so, and pushed it towards a fish.

It swam back at first, but then it slowly drifted forwards until it brushed up against her hand. She laughed. It felt slimy.

She turns to Percy. "I want to kiss you."

Oh, there's the blush she was hoping for. He flounders for a second, but then turns to look out the side of the bubble. The fish that are waiting for him to acknowledge their stare.

"Go away," he says out loud, and they immediately comply.

Now he stares awkwardly at Annabeth. "Come here," she says, gesturing for him to do so.

It's the first kiss she's ever had underwater, though hopefully not the last. It wasn't long, or hot or anything along those lines, but it's sweet and innocent. It makes her smile and steal another kiss.

To no one's surprise, the Hunters show up the next day. For the first time in many years, there's no game of Capture the Flag, since there's too many monsters in the forest.

Annabeth can't say she is particularly fond of the Hunters, especially since they'd had their butts kicked so many times in Capture the Flag. Most campers weren't exactly fond of them, really. More injuries happened whenever the Hunters visited Camp, that was for sure.

Surprisingly, though, is that Percy greets Zoë Nightshade like an old friend. He gives her in informal bow, and then grins.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" he says.

"Percy Jackson," she says coldly, but not with as much venom as she uses when talking to other boys. "When news of thy escape reached me, I could not admit I was surprised."

"You haven't aged a day," Percy says cheekily. "Still as beautiful as always."

Zoë narrows her eyes. "I see thy sense of humor has not changed."

Percy grins. "Did you ladies have any problems finding your way?"

"Of course not," Zoë says.

Percy smiles and nods to Annabeth. He introduces her to the group, and adds something along the lines of, "She won't need a pamphlet."

Zoë considers this, staring at Annabeth for a moment, and then into Percy's serious eyes. "Of course. She is a too old, regardless."

"What?" Annabeth asks confusedly. She doesn't consider herself particularly old.

"I'll explain later," Percy says.

Percy continues to talk to Zoë and the rest of the Hunters for a few minutes, though they don't share the same warmth he has for them. Not long later, he seems to become bored with them and escorts Annabeth to her next activity, leaving them to their own devices.

"I used to go out of my way to be nice to them when I was younger," he says when Annabeth asks why the Hunters tolerate him.

Annabeth raises an eyebrow.

"I had what you would call a crush on Zoë," he admitted with a blush. "I used to let her walk all over me because I thought she was pretty."

Annabeth couldn't help but laugh. "Wouldn't that make them hate you more?"

"Well," Percy starts, "once I ran into them outside of Camp, and of course it was when they were with Lady Artemis. She took a liking to me, for some reason. She liked me so much she decided not to turn me into an jackalope."

Annabeth blinks at the oddness of it all. "That's always a good thing."

"But Zoë is a bit weary of me," he says as he pulls out his sword. "She made this sword a very, very long time ago. It has some history, and she's not too fond of it."

Annabeth frowns. "Swords with history aren't a good thing. Some are cursed-"

Percy shrugs, cutting her off with his flippancy. "If it's cursed, Zoë didn't do it. I'm not too worried."

Once the Hunters settle in, they begin to help with preparations. They begin to set up what can only be described as nests. They're on top of cabins, and one larger one on top of the Big House. The Hephaestus cabin carves holes in all of the roofs, so the Hunter and Apollo's children would be able to access their little advantage points. The children of Hecate, the ones who are still at Camp by this point, enchant the door so only people from their cabin can have access to the door.

"They'd have to burn the entire front down if they want to get in," says Lou Ellen. The only exception to the rules, of course, are the archers. Annabeth doesn't even try to comprehend the magic behind it.

Cabin leaders are also informed of a secret underground passage underneath the Big House. Supposedly, it was a part of the Underground Railway, back in its day. He says that the Big House will likely be the last stronghold, and that if it comes to it, any survivors may use it. Annabeth can't help but think most would rather die than run away, herself included.

If Percy seemed busy before, now it seems every moment of his spare time was booked. Between strategy meetings and him helping to make more physical adjustments to Camp, Annabeth hardly sees him.

The physical changes to the camp are drastic. Sand bags, most of which are filled with dirt, though some with beach sand, are lined up around cabins, stacked in the middle of barren plots of grass, designed to be small barriers and resting spots. The biggest addition, however, is the trench.

It's about four feet wide, and three feet deep. Majority of the campers have been spending the past five days digging it. It trails all the way from the canoe lake to surround the cabins in a giant circle, then leads to the creek. Once that was finished, and someone ran out of other things for the mass of campers to do in their free time, they dug a trench near the forest border. Complainers lost their desert privileges. This only happened of course, after hours and hours of people complaining to Annabeth about how unfair it was that they couldn't do anything fun anymore.

Annabeth ended up delivering a metaphorical slap to the face when she reminded them that they soon would be locked in a war, where there probably wouldn't be many fun things to do, first of all, and if they didn't help do things like building the trench, many of their friends would die, and after, if they all survived, they wouldn't have anyone to do fun things with. No one complained to her afterwards.

For a few days, Mr. D is recalled to Olympus. He returns on the Sunday, the sixteenth, two days before Percy's birthday. He arrives just in time for the real fun to begin. Offhandedly, Mr. D mentions that perhaps if he helped defend the camp, his punishment would be lifted, or at least lessened, and he would finally be free of them all.

Annabeth finds herself staying awake longer than she should be. She remembers only a few short days ago when she dragged Percy back to his bed for being awake after midnight. Now, almost every night, she stays awake until two, sometimes three in the morning, and waking up before breakfast begins. It doesn't help, of course, that others are staying up as well, since preparations have become a round the clock activity.

Whatever sleep she gets is done in almost complete battle armor.

No one seems to notice the growing bags underneath her eyes, but she notices the signs of stress on her fellow campers. The tired eye, the jitters, the inability to stay still, children checking over their shoulders at every loud bang (and Camp was full of them, at the moment). They were all signs that in just three short days, the end of the world would be on their doorstep.

"You okay?" she asks Percy in one of their strategy meetings.

"Fine," he replies, staring at the map of Camp Half-Blood.

"Have you been sleeping?" she asks, noticing the bags under his eyes that weren't as prominent yesterday.

"Have you?" he counters.

"I've been supervising," she replies.

"I can't sleep," he says. "It's so much worse, knowing it's only a few days away."

"You haven't had long to prepare," she says. "I don't blame you."

That night she slept in Percy's cabin. It wasn't intentional, but it happened anyway. She had been sitting on the end of his bed, keeping vigil over him as he slowly fell asleep. Somewhere along the way she moved to the bed beside his and fell asleep.

When she wakes up the next morning, she's confused by the different sights. She pulls the sheets away from her body to realize she's still in her day clothes, and her shoes on the floor. She slips them on and looks to the bed beside her. Percy's bed is made, and the boy in question gone.

She realizes that he was the one to cover her in blankets. She can't help but smile as she heads out to start the day. That was incredibly cute of him.

Her happy mood carries to breakfast, where her cabin mates don't bother questioning her where she had been the night before. They probably thought she had just been planning, or supervising other activities.

After that she runs drills with the campers. Before this, quite a few of them didn't take training seriously, so they had a lot of catching up to do. An unofficial motto for camp was something along the lines of 'You're never done training'. Campers that had been there for years are learning new tricks from Hunters and other cabins that they didn't usually cooperate with.

One of the most important lessons being taught at Camp, though, was the different types of monsters they would soon be facing. The Athena cabin (minus Annabeth) leads these lessons for the most part, and they dig through their cabin's personal archive and the one in the Big House. When the cabin is unable to teach, they leave what could only be described as a lesson plan for whatever cabin is subbed in.

Once she's off her shift, Annabeth goes to help with the strategy meetings. Currently, it's the Hermes cabin's time to study the map. Each cabin got time to study the map that had taken literally over a week to prepare. In red was the primary plan, green the secondary plan, and in aquamarine, the tertiary plan. For over an hour she helps them memorize the plans and what duty each cabin member will be helping out with.

Before many of them get to see the intricacy that is their plan and backup plans, Annabeth thinks they thought the cabin leaders spent most of the time sitting on their behinds, eating or talking. She watches and the children of Hemes and the few unclaimed demigod's remaining stare at the map, some in awe and some in confusion. It was rather confusing.

The fifteenth passes without issue, mostly (there's never been a day at Camp where something hasn't happened), and Annabeth spends the next day doing her usual things. Training, making sure everyone knows the plan, more training.

It's that night that people on trench duty notice the gathering of Monsters on their forest's border.

Chiron sounds a horn that wakes whoever had actually fallen asleep. It's the sign that the battle is finally beginning, and campers rush to get their armour on. Annabeth's heart wishes that it's a false alarm, some parts of her feeling like they weren't prepared enough. Her brain knows that this might be the last day she'd see some of her fellow demigods alive.

They're grouped by strength to form a large rectangle of demigodness. Towards the outside is the stronger demigods, like the Ares cabin and those who'd been at Camp for years. On the inside is the Aphrodite cabin and weaker demigods who Annabeth thought really should have been in the Big House, running the infirmary.

Leading the army of monsters is a boy Annabeth recognizes. His name is Chris, but she can't remember his last name. Something with an R.

"Where's Jackson?" he calls. "It's not too late for him to come back to us."

Annabeth looks around, trying to remember where she had Percy placed. He's not there, she notices quickly. Where is he? What if he didn't hear the horn, and he's still asleep?

She sees everyone turn their heads, trying to find the demigod in question. Even Chiron doesn't seem to know where he is.

"Did he run away?" Chris says, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "What a coward."

Annabeth growls under her breath.

"The only coward I see around here is you, Chris," someone calls. It's Luke, she thinks.

"Luke," Chris smiles, confirming her suspicion. "That's hypocritical coming from you. You were so close to joining us, but you stayed on the weaker side. It's not like you like the gods, in fact I know you hate our father."

Luke remains silent.

"And look at you all!" Chris mocks. Annabeth didn't remember him being such an asshole when he was at Camp. "You can't even find your saviour!"

It's hardly our fault, Annabeth grumbles to herself.

"If you surrender now, we'll spare you," Chris says, staring into the eyes of the front line campers.

Annabeth glances down to avoid his eyes, and stares at the imaginary line in between the two armies. There's a barrier that keeps the monsters out of Camp, but it only works unless someone willingly invites a monster in. Chris is still technically a camper. Why hadn't they thought of that before?

Out of the corner of her eye, Annabeth notices Chiron pull his bow off his shoulder. It's not aimed at any of the monsters behind Chris, but rather the boy himself. Annabeth realizes Chiron must have came to the same conclusion as her.

Annabeth draws her knife, and hears many of the campers behind her pull their weapons out. The monsters catch the movement and some of them laugh. The ones that are capable of laughing, that is.

"I don't have all night," Chris says with an exaggerated sigh. "Should we wait for Jackson to show up, or should we start without him?"

No one dares answer, not even Chiron. Chris takes one last look at their tight formation and raises his sword. His voice rings out through the forest, "Friends, I welcome you to Camp Half-Blood!"

It's the monsters that rush forward. They push their way through the boundary line like it's butter, making some demigods gasp. Up until now, Camp Half-Blood had been a safe haven from monsters, but now they're inside, and it took seemingly no effort.

"Hold your lines!" Chiron says firmly, and it's seconds later that all talking would have been drowned out by the clashing of metal and cries.

Annabeth finds herself fighting an Empousa that just refuses to die. When she finally stabs her knife into the Empousa's ribcage, she finds herself fighting another one. Gods, she thinks to herself, just how many did Hecate make?

She gets pushed from behind by what she assumes is another camper. She doesn't have time to check, because she's suddenly in front of another demigod, one who'll undoubtedly be harder to defeat than some idiotic monster.

She hears a roar that shakes the very ground she's standing on. Her heart falls to the pit of her stomach as she realizes she'll probably have to deal with it. She is one of the few people still at the front of their formation.

Where in Hades' name is Percy? They could really use some help right now.

The demigod pushes her backwards, which annoys her because she was tired of getting pushed around. Everyone is so close together that when she stumbles backwards, she falls on Clarisse.

"Keep up, Blondie!" is the response she gets from the daughter of Ares. Finally, Annabeth gains the upperhand and brings the butt of her knife down on the other demigod's head.

Ahead of her is another demigod who somehow found his way on top of a hellhound. Annabeth manages to stab the hellhound, making the demigod fall to the ground and lie there. Annabeth figures he must have hit his head.

Another guttural roar shakes the trees. Annabeth wishes there was more than just the moonlight to guide her, but to her, the rays seem brighter tonight.

A giant snake-dragon lady is what awaits her. The rational part of Annabeth causes her to take a step back and cower in fear. She's so tall it makes Annabeth's helmet clang against the back of her breast plate to look up. The monster hasn't noticed her yet, giving Annabeth time to consider her actions.

Kampê, thinks Annabeth when the name comes to her. The top half is a woman, though she's unusually coloured and has snakes for hair, much like Medusa. Her bottom half is what reminds Annabeth of a dragon. Her bottom half is a pure black colour that reminds Annabeth of the pits of Tartarus.

How long has she been standing there for? How long has she been staring at Kampê, waiting for bravery (or stupidity) to kick in?

Kampê roars again, chilling Annabeth to the very bone. She's dead in enemy territory, there's no one else to back her up. Annabeth glances behind her, and sees that the campers have been pushed back close to the cabins. In a way, it's a good thing. The Apollo cabin and the Hunters will be able to help out more.

Kampê cackles to herself as she marches forwards. Her matching scimitars gleam in the moonlight.

Breathe, Annabeth thinks to herself as Kampê passes the tree she's behind. Any second now, Annabeth will do something. Kampê's barbed tail swings into a tree, causing it to knock over, and an angry Dryad to appear. A head on Kampê's middle snarls at the dying nature spirit.

"Now," Annabeth whispers to herself. She runs as quickly as she can, and jumps over Kampê's swishing tail. The dragon lady hasn't realized Annabeth was even there, which is good.

She grabs on to one of the plates that line up on Kampê's back and pulls. She's literally climbing the monster. Kampê realizes that something is amiss, and tries to turn around. Huh, Annabeth thinks, those heads mustn't be good for anything but show.

"What is this?" Kampê says to herself. Annabeth climbs another yard and comes face to face with a snarling bear. Unsure how to proceed, Annabeth hold on for dear life as Kampê swings around. Annabeth sees other demigods staring at her in shock.

If we survive, Annabeth thinks, they'll tell tales of my stupidity for decades.

Kampê stops moving so much, now distracted by a group of demigods huddle together. Luke is one of them. Annabeth grabs hold of her knife with one hand and holds onto a plate-like scale with the other. She slashes at the bear as it tries to bite her hand off. Interestingly enough, when her bronze knife connects to the bear's flesh, it had barely enough time to roar in pain and turn into golden dust.

Annabeth's nose crinkles at the sight the head left behind, a gruesome looking hole, but she quickly uses it as a foothold and pulls herself up once more. It's not long before she's pulling herself up past Kampê's wings. She has to stop and take a breath. Climbing up a moving, twisting monster was harder than it looked. There was literally times in her journey where she was hanging by one hand.

"You can do this," she whispers to herself. She's almost at Kampê's neck. There's no way Kampê hasn't noticed her at this point. Annabeth has only made it this far because Kampê let her. With one last pull, Annabeth is leaning on the back of Kampê's scaly neck, the snakes that take up her scalp hiss down at her. Annabeth almost feels like hissing back.

She places her feet firmly on one of the plates and raises her knife. As hard as she can, she brings the tip of her blade into Kampê's neck. The monster stops harassing other monsters to peer around at Annabeth.

"Little demigod," she hisses, her voice sounds like layers and layers of hisses on top of each other. Kampê turns her head so she can catch a glimpse of Annabeth. The daughter of Athena has to beat one of the snakes away. Oddly enough, they aren't poisonous. "Did you think you could kill me so easily?"

"I hoped I could," she answers honestly. From below, she hears someone call out her name. I know, she thinks, I'm probably about to die, but shut up. There's also a rushing sound, like running water. Maybe their tench is finally starting to fill up.

"It would take more than one of you," Kampê hisses, "to kill me."

Then, with a giant hand, she sweeps Annabeth off her shoulder. She's free falling, tumbling off the giant monster. She can't do anything to stop it, just wait for the inevitable impact and then most likely, death. But the rushing sound of water is louder in her ears, and all of a sudden she's not falling anymore.

"Good thing I'm here to help," Percy says, still holding Annabeth in his arms. It takes a second for Annabeth to regain her breath. Percy sets her down on top of the giant wave he's riding. It's the sound she was hearing.

Kampê roared, which alerts everyone who hadn't noticed the giant wave and the two people on top. Campers and monsters alike stop to watch the scene unfold.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind," Percy says like he is having an everyday conversation, "but I brought some friends along."

Down below, Annabeth sees nothing unusual. Then, a large group of cyclops raise their weapons, and all at once, chant, "FOR POSEIDON."

Though, after, the effect is ruined when some yell, "PEANUTBUTTER!"

"I think we can leave this ugly thing to them," Percy says, and suddenly the wave drops them, and they land in the moat. It's just in time, too, because Kampê's hand reaches out to grab the place they had just stood.

"Come on," Percy says, pulling her up by the hand. The two them run back to where most of the campers are fighting, which is significantly farther back than where they started. They're now just in front of the tench that circled the cabins. Most of the Apollo cabin and Hunters are still on their rooftops, though some have jumped down to gather injured campers.

It also seemed like one of the people she taught how to drive the Camp vans put their knowledge to use and borrowed a van to shuttle injured campers to the infirmary. As she runs, Annabeth looks at the sky. The moon is slowly sinking, and she can see the sun's rays peeking out.

Morning is coming.

Along the way, Annabeth stops to drag back a younger camper who appeared to have been trampled at some point. She doesn't really stop to think if she is dragging a dead body or not. She helps lift him into one of the vans and then goes back to join the fight.

The sun is high enough in the sky that the moon has disappeared completely. Annabeth is locked in combat with what's called a Scythian dracanae. The stupid snake woman keeps sticking out one of her 'legs' in an attempt to trip Annabeth. It's annoying, and Annabeth can't wait until she collapses into a pile of dust.

The best part of their early morning, so far, is when the cyclops finally defeated Kampê. With a fair bit of effort, and a few casualties, the small army managed to tip the dragon lady over and are then able to inflict enough damage to finally kill her. When the Camp hears her final dying screech, they simultaneously cry out with joy.

Annabeth is sure that cyclops were her new favourite friendly monsters.

Annabeth pulls herself out of the memory. She's tired and drowsy, and wondering when this battle is going to end.

An eternity seems to pass until a horn pierces the camp grounds. There's a brief moment when everyone seems to hesitate before performing their next move. The dracanae hisses in delight and tries to get one more stab in before retreating.

Gods, what a bitch.

What comes next is a blur that Annabeth can hardly remember by the time she sits down to sleep. By then, her eyes are hardly open and she's swaying slightly with exhaustion, though it was someone else who all but sat her down and pushed her over and told her to sleep.

But before she goes to sleep, she inspects the camp. The new moat that they acquired very recently had survived the battle. Annabeth had to pull out some swords from the mushy bottom, though she didn't wonder who they belonged to. She couldn't.

The infirmary is full of children look too small and are wrapped in too many bandages. Some are fine, with just small injuries and will be ready to released by nightfall, but one of the Apollo kids gravely informs her that some are on their deathbeds. Ambrosia and Nectar can't save them.

After that, she rushes out. She can't stare at all the injured, wondering if it was poor planning on her part that landed them there. So, she jogs back to headquarters and looks back through all of their plans and tries to improve them. She sits for what feels like hours, trying and trying to fix the plans like fixing them will help her family dying in the infirmary.

When she can't stare at plans anymore, she finds Percy in his cabin, wrapping a gash on his arm. Beside him is a flask with what she assumes is Nectar.

"I'm at the point where if I consume anymore of this stuff, I'll combust," he explains, gesturing to the flask.

Annabeth frowns and gives him a glare. "The battle has been over for hours, how come you're only taking care of that now?"

"Busy." He shrugs and rolls up the rest of the bandages before putting them away in a box. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

"No," she admits. She knows she should. She's running on fumes.

"There's a whole bunch of beds," he says, gesturing around him to the fairly empty cabin. He winces and rolls his shoulders. Annabeth gives him another look, to which he replies, "it'll heal for the next battle."

The next battle is about ten hours away. Annabeth is hoping for at least four hours of sleep, and then she is going back to planning and preparing.

"There's a whole bunch of beds," Annabeth parrots. "Let's get some rest before the fun starts."

It's six when she wakes up. It's a lot later than she was hoping for, considering she had gone to bed just after eleven in the morning. Percy is drooling in the bed beside her, and she decides to leave him like that for the time being. She creeps out of the cabin and heads down to the pavilion, where everyone is having dinner.

There's no where close to the normal amount of campers there. Some are in the infirmary, injured or healing the injured, or setting up for later tonight. It's the seventeenth of August. It's six hours until Percy's birthday.

Annabeth picks up two plates of food and starts heading to Percy's cabin. The entire way back, she's swallowing anxiety that keeps repeating the same thoughts. You thought you weren't prepared, and you were right. How do you expect to win this?

Annabeth wakes up in Percy's cabin again. Sheets are pulled up around her, and she's so comfy and warm. She doesn't want to get up, though she is wondering when she fell back asleep. Her watch tells her it's just after eight in the evening. Percy is in his bed, this time. He's watching the ceiling with a blank look on his face.

"Hungry?" she asks, looking at the plates of food she had set down a few hours ago, and had every intention of eating before she fell asleep.

"Not really. You?" His head turns so that he's now watching her.

"Not really. Do you think we should go help?"

"Not really. I just want to lie down here."

"I think that's a good idea," she replies. And that's exactly what they do.

Annabeth pulls on the strap on her chest plate tighter. Her face is grim, and their prospects are grim, but she knows that tonight they will be victorious.

When the other army breaks through the newly renewed boundaries, Annabeth finds herself fighting beside Percy. She's repeatedly stabbing at a telekhien's armor when she hears Percy spit out, "Kelli."

"Jackson," replies what she assumes is Kelli.

"Bye," says Annabeth, after she finally breaks through the telekhine's defences and spins around to stab Kelli. The empousa dissolves into dust.

Percy's eyes widen, like he wasn't expecting it to be that easy. "Thanks."

There's a screech off to her left, and a chorus of yelling from her right. She sighs. The area she's in now is relatively quiet. She wishes she could just hide here for a while, but that isn't going to happen.

"We should split up," she says. The yelling is loud. She wonders if the cyclops that Percy conjured are involved.

Percy nods his head and wipes sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Somehow, he manages to make this look attractive. She feels a bit ridiculous, standing in the middle of a battle field like a love drunk idiot, but she can't force herself to look away from the boy standing in front of her.

"Can I have a kiss?" he asks, his innocent face quickly taken over by a smug smile.

"You want a kiss?" she says, pretending to be scandalized. Her hands stick themselves to her hips.

"I've always been greedy, you know." His eyes are mischievous as he leans forwards, puckering his lips.

"Come back alive, Seaweed Brain, and we'll see."

He pauses mid step to look at her with an expression of pure bafflement. Lips slightly pursed, eyebrows scrunched, head tilted. "What did you just call me?"

Now, Annabeth is the smug one. "You heard me."

She's half-turned and about to re-enter the battle when she hears Percy call over her shoulder, "I'll hold you to that promise, Wisegirl."

The yelling Percy heard turned out to be from a bunch of enemy demigods. They're defending a particular area of the forest, which is weird. Kronos' army tended to just try and kill anything they could. There was no pattern or reason to it.

The yelling stops, and the demigod and Percy's fellow campers stop fighting. They look at each other before dropping their weapons to the ground and lying down next to them.

What?

The entire battlefield is doing the same thing. Percy looks down at his own sword, but it stays firmly grasped in his hand. He feels no compulsion to lie down and take a nap. The camp grounds are quiet. There's no more screaming or screeches. All that Percy can hear is his own breathing.

It stays this way for a minute before Percy hears footsteps.

The boy that emerges from the forest is roughly the same size as Percy, if not smaller. He has an eyepatch on one eye, a scythe in one hand, and a wicked smile. He strolls onto the battlefield like it's a schoolyard, walking over bodies of demigods from both sides and not caring about the golden dust that was once his army sticking to the bottom of his shoes. His eye is gold. His skin is cracking and golden light is leaking out.

"Perseus Jackson," the boy says. Gold slithers out of his mouth too. This isn't a boy. This is a titan in a vessel that is slowly breaking apart.

"Kronos."

"It's been a while," the titan says like someone would say, oh, we haven't met for tea in a while.

"Has it? Time flies when you're in prison, but I hardly need to tell you that." Percy smiles, eyes hard, and pretends he doesn't want to run away.

It's hard to tell if Kronos is glaring at him with one eye, but Percy figures he probably is.

The skin around the titan's neck glows brighter and the skin cracks slightly.

"It's awfully quiet around here," Kronos notices. He looks at the sleeping demigods on the ground, and the sleeping monsters right beside them. Percy looks around as well. Percy can see Dionysius slumped over what appears to be a dolphin. Everyone but Kronos and Percy has fallen asleep.

"Morpheus joined you after all," Percy says. "That's surprising."

"Why would he hesitate to join the winning side?"

Percy's eyebrows rise in surprise as he laughs. "You think you're going to win this?"

"And you think a handful of demigods is going to beat an immortal army?" Kronos asks. "How many nights more do you think they will manage to survive?"

"As many as they have to."

"The only immortal you have is the god of wine," Kronos points to Dionysius. The sleeping god doesn't help Percy's point. "Where are the rest of your Olympians?"

That's a good question.

"They're weak," Kronos says, and it's something he's told Percy time and time again. "They sacrificed you and all of your weak little friends. They're comfortable on Olympus while they let their children die for them."

That's rich, coming from a guy who ate most of his kids.

Percy has to agree with the titan. But he swore to defend Olympus, and he isn't going to try to skip around that oath.

"You're leaking," Percy says instead. With Riptide, he points to the gold that is still streaming out of Kronos.

Kronos holds out an arm that resembles the ground when it becomes too dry- horribly cracked. Light is leaking out consistently, though the titan doesn't seem to mind.

"Ethan Nakamura." Percy assumes this is the name of the body that Kronos is possessing. "Son of Nemesis."

It doesn't take an idiot to realise that it takes more than a half godly body to house a titan's soul.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ethan," Percy says.

Kronos waves his hand dismissively. "The boy is long gone."

Percy nods like this makes sense and is completely normal. "And you've been taking such good care of his body for him."

"I hardly expected the body of a son of minor goddess to last me."

Percy isn't quite sure what to say to that.

"It's not too late to return," Kronos says. He steps forwards so Percy takes a step back. Kronos finds this amusing.

"Fighting for Olympus will get you nowhere. They won't reward you for your work. How do you know that they won't turn on you?"

"If I joined you, wouldn't you do the same?"

"You would be forgiven," the titan says.

Percy is slightly skeptical.

"I have a specific role in mind for you," he continues, and then gestures to his body.

"No," Percy says immediately. Ethan's body falling apart right in front of him. Percy isn't that stupid. "I'll die."

"What is death to an immortal?"

"I'm not an immortal titan!" Percy objects. "You just said that Ethan is gone. Dead."

"Become my vessel, and when I destroy Olympus and march to the underworld, I will release your soul. I will give you everything I promised you."

"Yes, but I'll be dead."

"Immortal," Kronos corrected.

True. You can't die more than once.

"You're assuming that I'm fighting for the Olympians," Percy says. He swallows hard. He wonders if Ethan had a choice in becoming Kronos' new body, or was he just a poor boy that was forced into it?

"Then who are you fighting for?" Kronos asks.

Percy points to the camp around them. "I've become quite fond of the demigods here. I certainly don't give a shit about the Olympians. I'm fighting for the camp."

Kronos considers this. "I could spare them. It may take work to make them to cooperate, and there may be casualties." The titan shrugs like it's no big deal.

"And when this is done," Percy says. Riptide swings in his hands. "When you win-"

His heart is beating so loudly, he's surprised Kronos doesn't hear it.

"You'll receive the greatest reward of all."

"Immortality," Percy says, the word slipping from his lips quietly. He caps Riptide and slips the pen into his pocket. "Poseidon's throne."

"All of Olympus, if you wish."

Olympus. Percy can hardly comprehend. There must be a trick. But they're losing. He hadn't admitted it before, but the side defending the rest of the camp is getting smaller by the minute. Or, it had been before they all fell asleep. How is Percy supposed to defeat a titan by himself?

"Okay," he says. He doesn't say no, I made an oath. He doesn't dare think of it. "You spare Camp Half-Blood. It's mine now. And in return, you can have my body to use to destroy the gods."

Kronos grins like he's been waiting a century for this outcome. He probably had. "I believe we have a deal."

Before Percy, Ethan's body seems to glow brighter and brighter, and continues to crack until the flesh breaks apart and falls to pieces. Percy can't help his mouth falling open as he stares at the grotesque sight before him. After another minute, all that is left of the son of Nemesis is golden dust and bright light.

It's too bright to see what happened next, and Percy isn't thinking about it too hard, because there is suddenly something else in his body with him. Kronos is warm. Kronos is boiling hot. Kronos is the sun, and Kronos is suddenly burning in Percy's body. It's all that Percy can think about it.

The light fades and Percy's eyes open on their own accord. Or rather, they open on someone else's wish. Grass is what is in Percy's immediate view, and then Percy's hands push his body off the ground.

Are they still Percy's hands, or did they belong to Kronos now?

No, Percy thinks as his mouth pulls itself into a smile. These are my hands, he thinks as a scythe appears in his left hand. I'm right handed.

Ethan was smaller than Percy. Percy has longer legs and arms, which Kronos seems to have to adjust to. The titan fumbles for his few steps, but then steps more confidently to a better place to view the camp. Percy thinks that if he could hear the titan's thoughts it would be something along the lines of mine mine mine mine.

No. This place belongs to Percy.

Kronos stolls through the sleeping bodies. He watches them without a care, and stops to kick a sword away from a slumbering demigod. Percy wonders if the titan is just wandering around aimlessly, or if he has a goal in mind. Percy wonders if it's just him, or if Kronos is viewing the world through a thick fog as well. Percy wonders if Kronos is tired too. Percy just wants to take a nap.

That desire to sleep slips away when Percy realizes they're heading towards the Big House. That's where the infirmary is. And on the porch is Annabeth, head slumped against the railing.

Annabeth. Annabeth. Annabeth. What is she doing here?

Kronos stops a few steps away from Annabeth. He eyes her, and moves his left arm-

No. This place belongs to Percy. Annabeth is safe here. Kronos said he would spare them all, so why is he going to hurt her?

It doesn't really occur to Percy that Annabeth, who is sprawled across the steps, is in the way of the titan. Kronos would rather cut her down than walk around.

No, Percy thinks. He throws himself backwards, but nothing happens. Right. This body isn't his anymore. He tries again. This body isn't his anymore, but this camp is his. Kronos agreed.

This time, when he tries, Kronos stumbles backwards.

"What?" Kronos says. Then he says, "no."

Actually, it's Percy who says that. "No," he repeats, just so that Kronos gets the point.

Their left hand is still clutching the scythe, but that's okay, because Percy only needs his right to reach for Riptide and uncap it. It's a weird sensation, half of you wanting to do one thing and the other doing its very best to stop you from accomplishing anything. Percy does his best to ignore it, and try to figure out a better solution to this problem. He's not very successful.

Percy learns, right then, that swords are not means to stab the person holding them. It's extremely awkward. But he manages to positing the blade and manages to push it into his own stomach. It hurts about as much as he thought it would.

The warm feeling is the first thing he notices. Or rather, the lack of it. Then he coughs up golden dust, and the world around him comes back to life.

Annabeth's eyes fly open. She doesn't notice him at first. She just looks confused, and mad at herself for falling asleep. Then her eyes roam around the battlefield and she looks at the monsters and demigods who are trying to righten themselves. And then she sees percy. At first she doesn't seem to understand this either.

And then she screams.

Percy isn't sure what to do, so he just supports the sword with one hand, and the scythe with the other. Then he decides to drop the scythe. No one will be needing that. He blinks at Annabeth, and then down at the sword.

"You missed all the fun," he informs her, his voice tight. His mouth tastes like blood.

"Medic!" is what Annabeth shouts. She launches off the porch and flutters anxiously for a moment before helping Percy sit down.

"What happened?" she demands.

"I stabbed Kronos," Percy replies, reaching for her hand.

"You stabbed yourself, you idiot!"

"Same thing. I let him possess me. He was going to hurt you. I had to stop him."

His breaths come out in gasps. Who knew stabbing yourself hurt so much?

"What in the gods' names were you thinking?" Annabeth says. She looks out to the field surrounding them, and watches everyone watching them. Most monsters are unsure what to do. They saw Kronos' scythe in Percy's hand. The titan wouldn't have just lost it.

"I had to stop him. I-I think you were right. 'Bout my sword. It was cursed. I don't think this would've worked, otherwise."

"Gods," Annabeth says. Her hands are applying pressure around the sword. It hurts. "MEDIC!"

Percy spits out blood. He wonders if all the medics are too busy to help him. Oh well.

"It's okay," he tells Annabeth. She watches Kronos' army begin their hasty retreat. Percy smiles. This is exactly what he hoped would happen.

"It's going to be okay," Annabeth says to him. Her bottom lip is quivering and her eyes are tearing up.

"Can I have that kiss? 'M terribly greedy, y'know."

Annabeth hiccups and nods. She leans over and plants a kiss on his lips. It's much shorter than he would have liked.

"I wish I could've stolen more kisses from you," he whispers. "Please don't cry."

Surprisingly, that doesn't help at all. Big, fat tears start coming out of her eyes.

"It's going to be okay," she says, and kisses him one more time.

All that's left of Kronos is gold dust. It comes out with Percy's last breath, and Annabeth wipes it away. It has no business being there.

Chiron believes that because Kronos died in a body that was mortal, his death will be permanent. At least, that's what he tells Annabeth.

The next day, they burn Percy's shroud. The camp cheers for the hero of Olympus, and Annabeth likes to think that Percy would have hated it, but appreciated the effort.

Annabeth watches the Poseidon cabin from afar. Everyone else is in bed, and the harpies can be heard screeching in the distance. They don't bother her, though. Perhaps they can feel the anger she's radiating and take it as a sign.

She likes to think that she's handling everything well.

She creeps closer to the cabin, slowly, hardly moving at all. She makes it to the door and stands in the threshold, her hand on the doorknob. The low structure hums around her, welcoming her. She wants nothing but to be anywhere else. But for some reason, she still stands in the doorway. Perhaps she's searching for the boy who stole so much of her heart, and then ran away with it.

Annabeth's anger makes room for hatred. She isn't sure exactly where these emotions are coming from. Malcolm says it's grief. Fuck Malcolm.

The cabin seems empty without Percy's sly smile. Annabeth sits down on a bed - not his. No one bothered to make his bed.

She places Percy's golden pen on the sheets in front of her. It looks innocent. She wishes it would melt into a puddle of gold and ink. It seems to take hours to pull the lid off and then a bronze sword is in her hands. It shines brightly, its cleanliness mocks her. In a detached way, she wonders who cleaned his blood off.

She feels frozen in the moment. The feeling is broken when the blade suddenly feels too hot in her hands. Like a grenade, she tosses it across the room. It flies over a bed and under another. It doesn't explode, but she does.

"I hate you!" she yells. Annabeth isn't sure what she's yelling at anymore.

The cabin doesn't respond. The only person she wants to hear a response from isn't there, and his sword lies forgotten there for years.

In the attic of Camp Half-Blood lies an empty painting. On the floor in front of it is a blanket with an unhealthy amount of dust blanketing it. There's also a broken Christmas ornament that fell at some point in the decades since someone had ventured to the corner. A book lies forgotten on the floor, opened to a page that was never finished.

A/N: this was going to have a sequel that was like HOO or at least parts of it, but that's not happening now lol.

(also, if you're thinking riptide was only gold in the movies, i pictured it more like a fountain pen because i don't think they had like bic pens when percy was chilling around camp halfblood. plus it's more classy.) if you notice any places that seem like they need line breaks, lemme know because this website hates me and i had to go back and put them all in. do you see how many line breaks there are. do you. do you.

anyways, thanks for making it all they way through this. it took over a year to write so i feel like there's so weird things going on, but i hope you enjoyed it.