AN: I wrote this story two years ago, and while organizing my computer came across this and realized this story IS Percy and Annabeth. So, some simple editing and name changing later, WE HAVE A FINISHED ONE SHOT. Please review, and tell me your favorite line in this!
He is back. After two tours in Vietnam, he has come home. He, in this case being Percy Jackson. He slowly sits down in a beat up red chair in his living room. Percy decides it is a strange feeling, having something feel familiar and foreign at the same time. He looks and back now and remembers all the good memories that came with this chair. This chair is where he fell in love. Where he got his heart broken for the first time. Where he found out his mother had died via drug overdose. Where he found out he was going to Vietnam.
Percy didn't volunteer for this, and why would he? He's a simple, young boy from Virginia, who had a habit of falling in and out of love real quick. He doesn't want to have a habit of fighting in wars.
So, he went, did what he had to do, and came home. Simple, right? Not exactly. Actually, no, not really at all. Percy did some things no human ought to have done, and saw things he sure wasn't ready to see. He got a front row seat to watch his friends die. People who should've been saved; people who died in vain.
After going through all that Percy had gone through, the simple fact was this: he is damaged. He is more alert now. A hand on his shoulder might result in a broken arm for the 'opponent'. By the time Percy realized what he had done, it was too late to fix his actions.
A woman strolls in the room. His wife, he realizes. The only girl who had ever stayed, and had vowed to stay forever. He eyes her warily, as if she (all five feet of her) was the hunter and he was deer. He says nothing at first. He notices her outfit. It is a dress. A cottony light blue one.
She holds a glass in her hand, and shifts uncomfortably on her feet, as if deciding something in her head. A moment later, a glass bottle full of Coke is on the table next to him and his wife sits on the arm of the chair on the other side. Percy jumps at the sudden movement. He still stares at her blankly. She bites her lip.
"You seem…" She trails off, hoping for him to fill in the space. He doesn't. "Different." She finishes.
"Yes." Percy replies. He decides it's funny-maybe ironic is the better word-that he used to be the best person with words, yet now the only things that register in his brain are noises and movement. He decides that he likes the old Percy better than this Percy. This Percy is broken, unfixable perhaps.
"I've missed you." Her dress matches her eyes. He notices that. He notices a lot of things, he just doesn't know how to express them.
"Yes." Her eyes fill with tears, and reaches out to touch his face. He winces and she drops her hand lifelessly.
"I'm glad you're home. You're safe now." But the thing is, he thinks, is that he isn't safe. He will never be safe from the nightmares that plague him each night. He will never feel safe with strangers again. These years, though short in time span, have become the pinnacle of his life. These events have defined him. They've also twisted and changed him. He thinks himself to be a monster.
"Your dress, it matches your eyes." His hand slowly reaches her face. It brushes one of her loose blonde curls out of her eyes, and returns back to his lap. She nods in response, squeezing his hand (He didn't even notice she had been holding it), urging him to go on. "I like the color of your eyes. They remind me of the ocean."
She hesitates again, having so much to say, yet not being able to say it. "I like the color of your eyes too. They remind me of you." She stops. He's watching her, unblinking, so she continues. She laughs a breathy laugh. "I know it's silly, but I like the color of your eyes because it reminds me you're here. It tells me that you are not just a dream." She's wiping at her eyes, (she's doing that a lot, he notices this as well), giving him the smallest smile he's ever seen. After a minute of silence, she gets up, wipes her wet hands on her dress, and moves toward the kitchen.
"Annabeth?" She turns at the sound of her name. Her eyes are an icy grey, yet soft if you look up close. Percy likes looking at her up close.
"You can have this drink if you're thirsty, I don't want it." He picks it up, looks at the label, holds it out towards her.
"Well you see now, I didn't get it for me. I got it for you." She takes the drink from his hand and sets it down beside him. "That way, when you are thirsty, it will always be there."
"Then…thank you, Annabeth."
"You are quite welcome. I'm going to get started on your celebratory welcome home dinner." But he doesn't respond. Percy's gone, lost in his world full of thousands of beautiful words all trying to burst out, yet staying contained in a single yes.
Months pass just the same. She's giving him as much space as she can (because she loves him), and he still blocks her out (even though it is unintentional). Either way, Annabeth finds she is missing him looking at her like he did B.V. (She has deemed this term Before Vietnam). She wishes he would look at her the way he used to. Like the way Tony would look at Maria.
Annabeth finds herself sleeping on the bed alone half the time, with Percy passed out on the couch, surrounded by beer bottles. She's lonely, and she can feel her marriage crumbling, she just doesn't know what she can do. He refuses therapy, saying it was only for people who are crazy. Annabeth is starting to think she is crazy, for what she's putting herself through. The bottle of Coke next to Percy remains untouched.
On the first morning in April, three months after Percy has come home, Annabeth wakes up to a man beside her. He's sleeping, but barely. He is as far away from her as he can be, only an inch between him and the edge of the bed. Annabeth smiles, her first real smile in a long time. All his guards are down, all his vulnerabilities are exposed, and he seems…rested? No, more than that. Peaceful. Beautiful. She knows now she can't give up. The light inside of him hasn't died out, it's only been dimmed. She knows now that she needs to find that something. That spark that will ignite him.
Annabeth moves to get up, shifting the covers back up around Percy's shoulders once she's standing. She walks down the stairs, and proceeds to make a breakfast of bacon and toast. While cooking, Annabeth turns around the radio. She dances around the kitchen, being light on her feet, and starts to sing. She sings so loudly, in fact, that she doesn't hear Percy coming down the stairs and stopping in the doorway to listen to her voice.
He's entranced. Her movement, her voice, her everything. Even the spatula flying around in her hand, and her morning hair. He soon finds out that everything about this moment is perfect. Even the light filtering through the window hits her just so.
When the song ends he says, "You have a good voice." Annabeth turns and drops the spatula, embarrassed that she had been caught. She looks down at her feet.
"Uh, thanks." She slowly bends over to retrieve the fallen spatula, when another pair of hands picks it up for her. She bites her lip. "I could have got it." Percy nods, but says nothing in response. He sits down at the table and Annabeth serves him his breakfast.
"Annabeth." He (re)discovers that he loves saying her name, and the way it rolls off his tongue just so.
"Hmm?" she responds, busy wiping down the counter with a particular vigor he has to admire.
"You are a very beautiful woman, Annabeth." She blinks once, twice, three times. A lone tear leaves a trail of salt down her face, but she doesn't even notice.
"And you, Percy Jackson, are a very brave man." She wants a real emotional reaction. She wants him to feel again, to love again, but he just laughs. A lifeless laugh. One she hopes to never hear again.
"How am I brave?" Silence. "How am I brave, Annabeth Chase?" More silence. Annabeth cries silently, for she doesn't want to give in to his game.
She looks him in the eye. "My name is no longer Annabeth Chase. It is Annabeth Jackson. That changed when I married you, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. And you, Percy Jackson, are sick. You are very, very sick. You were right though, you are not a brave man, because by now a brave man would have asked for help." And in that moment, as hurt as he was, he fell in love with Annabeth a little bit more.
Percy has discovered things he enjoys. Things such as walking, running, biking, and basically anything that can clear his head.
Percy enjoys listening to Annabeth sing, although she'll only do it when she thinks she's alone. Percy enjoys listening to Annabeth read, he enjoys Annabeth's laugh, although now to hear it is a little rare. He enjoys everything about Annabeth, he just doesn't know how to tell her. He doesn't know how to tell her that he understands now, that he doesn't have to go through this alone. This story doesn't have to be a one man show. It is so much easier if you have someone to take the steps to recovery with you.
Percy enjoys dogs. So, when he finds one on the street alone, he brings it home. He finds that Annabeth doesn't enjoy dogs.
"Percy? Um, what is that, that thing doing in here?" She tries to say it nicely. Percy doesn't like it when Annabeth pretends to be nice to him.
"I found it alone outside. I brought it inside. Someone has to take care of it."
Annabeth is not amused. "So by someone, you mean me."
"No, I will take care of the dog if you don't want to. I don't think you do." He waits for a response.
"That's right, I don't." She smiles to herself hours later when she sees him trying to get the dog to walk on its very own new leash.
Percy enjoys taking his daily walks with his new dog Annie. He named it after Annabeth. He wants her to know how much he cares. "Annie, get back here! Heel, girl. Sit. Stay. Good girl."
Annabeth smiles to herself from the window, and turns back to the kitchen to make dinner. When Percy comes inside to eat dinner, he doesn't miss the bag of dog food sitting next to Annie's water bowl that Annabeth must've gotten for him.
Percy enjoys sleeping in the same bed with Annabeth. They never touch each other, not intentionally, each keeping as much distance as they can. But at night, when he wakes up to Annabeth's loud snoring, he smiles, and falls back into a restless sleep. "Did I wake you last night? I think I have a cold." is always her excuse.
He wants to say, "How can you have a cold every night?" He wants to make her laugh. All he says is a resounding "No." The Coke still sits, forgotten, on the table next to the old red chair.
Percy enjoys falling in love with Annabeth, and noticing all her weird quirks.
"Why do you always scrunch up your nose when you're frustrated?"
"I don't know."
"Why do you only sing when you're alone?"
"No reason."
"Why have you stayed?"
"Because I love you." Percy stops asking questions.
Percy enjoys making Annabeth realize that he loves her.
"Annabeth, wake up. Wake up. Wake up!" He shakes her lightly, and her eyelids flutter open. Another quality about her he finds endearing.
"What, Percy?" She sounds tired, he notices. She sits up, and the light hits her just right again, and dear God is he in love with her.
"I got thirsty." Percy hands Annabeth the empty glass bottle of Coke, with the words 'I love you' scrawled across the label. Fin.
AN: I realize my last story was never updated after three chapters;I have more written but not enough time to fully reboot more than a year later yet! SO if you're reading this and you also love Pitch Perfect, please check it out! (Again, reviews are super appreciated!) Thanks for reading!