Heirloom
By The Inamorata
Original Publish Date: October 13, 2011
A/N: This is my first Percy Jackson fanfic. It will be multiple parts, though how many I'm not sure of yet. Reviews with constructive criticism greatly appreciated.
Heirloom - Chapter One
A clock ticked rhythmically in the dark. Heavy breathing, sheets rustling, and then a footstep. A single creak of the floorboards, quiet, barely there, but it was like an alarm clock blaring in his ears. And then a whisper.
"Annabeth."
Their eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. The woman, Annabeth, lay comfortably under the sheets, her fair hair spilling over the pillows, but her eyes were wide open, staring at the man who sat at the edge of the bed.
His legs were already over the edge, his back as straight as board, his eyes meeting hers in an unspoken connection. In the darkness she could see the shadow of light stubble across his chin, his shaggy hair that he never had the desire to cut short, and broad, bare shoulders. She could see his arm, slightly raised at the ready, a ballpoint pen in hand. She nodded.
A cold silence moved through the house like a shadow. Everything was quiet, even the clock. They could feel a darkness sweep over them, a darkness their eyes couldn't adjust to, making their blood turn to ice and their hearts beat slower, like a lethargic, hopeless sleep. But Percy Jackson was well trained for situations like this—he just didn't think it would happen. Not here.
He moved silently across the floorboards, his feet well adapted to avoid the parts the creaked. Annabeth moved just as quietly, and even Percy couldn't hear her behind him, but he could sense it. After all of these years fighting side by side in battle, of their deepest moments of intimacy, they had almost become one being; feeling each others movements and emotions, predicting what the other would think and say. They were inseparable.
Their bedroom door had been kept cracked—it was Annabeth's idea, for emergencies, and this was definitely the time for it. They brushed past it easily, even in the absolute darkness. The feeling of helplessness grew thicker, darkness and despair flooding into all parts of his body, but Percy continued unafraid. How many times had he done this before? Nothing could scare him easily now, but that wasn't to be mistaken with overconfidence. It was reality.
Finally he uncapped the pen, a dull glow emerging from the small object into a fully formed sword of Celestial Bronze, emitting a dull glow that could just barely penetrate the darkness.
What they saw in the small amount of light surprised the both of them. A small boy, no older than ten, with a mess of black hair and olive skin sat cross-legged on the hardwood playing with trading cards and statuettes. Percy would never forget the boy, even if he hadn't seen him for twenty-two years.
"Nico," he said quietly. "But how?"
The boy looked up, his large, dark eyes reflecting off of Percy's blade.
"You can put that down now," he said, a bemused expression on his face.
"But you're dead," Percy said, not moving his sword.
Nico simply shrugged. "So I died. Is it so surprising that the son of Hades would get special privileges?"
Percy and Annabeth exchanged nervous glances, not completely trusting of this newcomer to their household.
"I understand," Nico said with a sigh. He stood and the cards and figurines disappeared in a puff of smoke. "I'm only here to pass on a message, anyway."
Percy examined him for several moments, then recapped his pen. "It must be pretty serious for you to come all the way out here," he said. "Come on, let's sit."
Annabeth and Percy's kitchen was nothing like a typical household kitchen. Annabeth had designed the spacious room herself, with floor-to-ceiling windows that moved in a semi-circle across the entirety of the kitchen. It made up an entire side of the house, which sat upon a cliff overlooking a wide expanse of evergreens and a dazzling lake that shimmered in the moonlight. There was a door to a small outside kitchen deck supported by large white Greek columns into the cliff face. On the opposite side of the kitchen were the cooking appliances and counter space along the far wall. Everything else was crystal clear window.
The three of them sat at the kidney-bean shaped table, its longest edge the same curvature as the windows. They didn't turn on any lights, as the moonlight filtering through was enough illumination to see by. Nico drummed his fingers on the table, looking bored, and the two watched him expectantly.
"I wasn't going to come, originally, but I couldn't pass up a visit, Percy, Annabeth" he said. "Or what was it they called you at the office? Mrs. Jackson?"
Annabeth smiled; she'd gotten used to the name over the years, so it stopped making her flush long ago.
"You've been spying," she said, looking amused. "We should have noticed."
Nico shrugged again. "Retiring can do that to you."
"We're not retired," Percy said agitatedly. "We just settled down."
"Right, well, whatever you're calling it, your senses are little dull," he said. "That's what I came here about, actually. Or something like that."
He paused, drawing circles on the table with his finger. They made little steam marks, then disappeared.
"Well?" Percy pressed.
"I hear things, you know, being dead," Nico continued. "Well I heard things before I was dead, too, but that's not the point. I hear the spirits, and they're restless. And I hear my father, and his wife, and her ghastly mother."
He looked irritated for a moment, but it passed.
"Usually I don't hear anything interesting, and I just move along," he continued. "But your name came up… and I couldn't help but listen in."
Percy's eyes met Annabeth's again, this time in concern.
"Me? Why me?"
"Well, not you, specifically, but, 'Jackson,' so it could be you," he said, then his eyes moved to Annabeth. "… or you." His eyes moved again, this time to the door behind him. "Or…"
Annabeth stood quickly, but Nico looked back at her.
"Don't worry, they're fine," he said, but she didn't look reassured. "But something is stirring. Most demigods don't live long enough to reach your age. Rarely do they have children. And it's almost unheard of for them to have children with another demigod."
"What's your point?" Percy asked, unable to mask the concern in his voice.
"I'm saying that there are many people who take interest in these matters, Percy Jackson, and the little kiddos won't be safe for much longer, even way out here," Nico said, gesturing to the wilderness below them. "And your shields aren't as strong as you think they are. I got in, after all."
Annabeth slowly sat back down. "So you're saying someone is coming after us?"
"Oh, no one, yet," Nico said nonchalantly. "Word of the children is spreading, but no one knows what they are yet. Half-bloods like their parents? Or did they just get the mortal genes? Or, even less likely…"
Percy gulped. "Gods?" he whispered.
Nico's eyes stared coldly into his. "Anything is possible."
Annabeth's hand moved to Percy's knee, grasping it tightly. Feeling her touch made him instantly warmer, the fear caused by Nico's aura draining away, the darkness and the cold flushing out of his body. But the concern was still there.
"Don't worry about it too much, Percy," Nico said, standing. "Go back to being a Sailor Scout Leader, and Annabeth can keep being an architect. Just keep it in the back of your minds, you know? That someday things are gonna change. Maybe you'll be lucky. Maybe they'll both be mortals, and won't have to worry about all the hardship of the truth. Maybe they won't be as lucky. You won't know for a while. But I just wanted to let you know—it's stirring."
Percy nodded, but stayed silent.
"Thank you, Nico," Annabeth said. "For coming to us."
"Yeah," Percy said after her, but his voice was quieter. "Thanks."
"No problem," he said, his cards magically reappearing in his hands. "You know, I never should've tossed these. Being a ten-year-old kid was fun. I shouldn't have let it slip away so easily."
"You didn't have a choice," Percy said, smiling at him. "None of us did."
He grabbed Annabeth's hand and squeezed it.
"Well, it was good seeing you two," Nico said. "I gotta go, but remember—I'll be watching."
Nico winked, and in a puff of smoke, he was gone.