A/N: Hey! So you might be wondering why I haven't updated Hey Blondie! but I've been away and I didn't have my computer so... here's a fic I wrote on my phone to make up for it! I will probably update Hey Blondie! sometime this week. Annabeth in this may seem OOC, I just decided her life wasn't tragic enough...

I DON'T OWN PJO

She had always been different. She was almost inhuman, her beauty and wit astounding those who didn't known her. Even as a six year old, her eyes were downright terrifying. So they pushed her away. She knew that she was strange, so when she left on her 7th birthday, she brought daggers and knives. The scary part? She knew how to use them. And she wasn't afraid.

When she ran, her mind was a blank slate. She lobbed off her blonde curls that used to look like a princess's hair. She started covering her face, not showing what she was feeling. Often times she didn't have to hide. It was just numb.

That all changed after she met them. Thalia and Luke. Her saviors. She put all of her trust in them; she never thought they'd leave her. And it was all well for 5 years, 5 years without starving, 5 more years in a twisted world. She knew she was safe and that was that. Then, Luke betrayed her.

She hated his guts. She knew how to kill, knew his weak spots, knew how to murder him. Yet she didn't. Why didn't she? She was 12. She was terrified. Even so, that Percy, the new kid, talked to her. He was nice. He wasn't scared by her aggression.

After she went back to her father, that changed. Her stepmother was intent on making her life a miserable hell. She was jeered at, laughed at, broken. Though, that had already happened. She would survive. Even if it cut it close.

Her birthday had been soon, that day. She was at camp, away from her hell. She wanted to be alone; every year, she went quiet around her birthday. It was her time of mentally resetting, the only way for her to stay sane. Even so, she wept. Her two brothers hated her, her stepmother a witch; her father blissfully ignorant.

She was sitting alone in the woods, 20 feet above ground. Her tears fell like projectiles, piercing the dirt and leaves below. She knew she shouldn't cry, she had more than she needed, a life to envy at camp. She curled into a ball, precarious on the branch. She didn't care if she fell. Nobody cared. Nobody cares if she got hurt. Her entire body shook with sobs. The last thing she remembered was falling.

Voices awakened her. They were concerned, a surprise. Nobody should be concerned with her, and outcast and know it all. A weak daughter of Athena who couldn't even balance correctly. Nobody cared. No one.

A year passed. Now she was 13 and had made her first human kill. Well, not human, but a minor god. Just another secret adventure. Chiron even didn't know. For some strange reason, though, that Percy was acting so strange around her. He'd always blush and mumble. Maybe he had a speaking problem.

She was 14. That was the age she knew she loved Percy. The two were happy together. Finally, she wasn't on the run.

After that? They knew they had each other.