Annabeth has dreams sometimes. She dreams of dragons, but not really because they're drakons, and strange women with scales and snakes tongues (dracenae). She sees satyrs and dryads and a million other things too. She sees people: a redhead covered in paint, a girl with vines curling around her ankles and daisies woven into her hair. She wonders sometimes if maybe she's schizophrenic or bipolar or just straight up insane, because as far as she can tell no one else dreams about crazy stuff like this.

There's a guy too. She hasn't ever seen him before, and yet there's something all too familiar about him. Interacting with him feels like regaining the use of a limb she didn't even know she had, even though it's all imaginary anyway.

She tries to paint all of them, the cyclopses and the centaurs and the giants, but him especially. She can never get his face down on paper because she gets so focused on one part of him (his eyes, his hands) that everything else blurs out and so she gives up until the next time she gets a vague glimpse of him. She's pretty sure that she's never going to find him and she accepts that, but there's a tiny part of her that thinks maybe she's dreaming about this guy for a reason.

; ; ; ;

One day, when she's leaving Starbucks at the end of her shift, she catches a glimpse of tall dark-haired man, about the same build as the mystery man in her dreams. She knows the likelihood of it being the exact same guy is very unlikely, but she follows him anyway on a hunch and really what harm could it do?

(If she's shivering as she walks up behind the mystery man, it's because it's the middle of winter.)

She taps him on the shoulder awkwardly, and she's not quite sure what she was thought would happen, but she sure wasn't expecting him to say, "Annabeth?"

He looks exactly like the guy in her dreams and she knows that there's no way it could be anyone else because he said her name, but just to make sure, she pulls up his sleeve, and there it is- the eagle tattoo.

She steps back with wide eyes; just enough to see his expression move from shock into relief. He breathes her name again but confidently this time. "Annabeth." Like a prayer. Like a plea.

She steps back again, once, twice, three times until she's running away from him. He calls after her, but he doesn't move to chase after her, doesn't do anything but yell. She runs as fast as she can because he wasn't supposed to be real, dammit, but she still he hears his voice echoing along with her footsteps like he's speaking directly into her ear, and yet from a distance at the same time: "I love you."

; ; ; ;

The girls from her studio drawing class are there when Annabeth runs across the grass to find Thalia. As usual they can't keep their mouths shut, but like everything else since Annabeth saw him it all fades out and their faces blur together.

She's so focused on getting to her dorm that she doesn't even notice Thalia and walks into her as she waits for her coffee. "Whoa, kiddo," Thalia says, bemusedly grabbing her by the arms and holding her upright as she trips. "Where's the fire."

Annabeth blinks and looks around.

"Annabeth." Thalia says, snapping loudly in front of her face so she jerks away from the sudden noise. "What is going on with you?" Thalia asks, squinting.

Annabeth bounces on her heels agitatedly, looking around as if he's going to be there leaning against the English building. "Not here. The dorm," she says shifting anxiously.

"O…kay," Thalia says following her with a strange look. When they do get to the dorm, Thalia locks the door theatrically and makes sure to peek through the window blinds for added effect. "All right," she says in an exaggerated hushed whisper, taking a sip of her coffee. "What happened?"

"I…I saw him," she says, shakily.

"Him," Thalia repeats, confusedly.

"You know, him."

Thalia frowns, takes a bigger swig. "No, I'm pretty sure I don't…"

Annabeth lowers her voice, even though he's probably not around here anyway. "Him," she says, looking at Thalia pointedly. Thalia tilts her head. She throws her hands up in the air. "The guy from the crazy dreams I've been having."

Thalia spits her coffee back into the cup. "What? Are you sure?"

"He had the tattoo and everything! But…I mean it's not like there no way this couldn't be a coincidence. Right?"

Thalia gives her an exasperated look. "We both know that this isn't a coincidence."

"Right." Annabeth sucks in a breath shakily.

"What are you gonna do?"

"What?" Annabeth starts pacing on the small stretch of unoccupied space in their dorm.

"About him. What are you gonna do?"

"Avoid him, of course."

Thalia rolls her eyes. "First of all, no you're not. Second, even if you did he'd find you anyway."

Annabeth stops and runs a hand through her hair. "You really think so?" Thalia opens her mouth, but Annabeth answers herself before she can say anything. "Yeah he would. Dammit."

She takes a deep breath. "I need alcohol." She jabs a finger at Thalia. "Don't tell me it's too early because it isn't."

Thalia raises her hands with a grin. "I have nothing against this."

;;;;

She tries her very best to avoid him but in the end, Thalia's right. He corners her on her way home from her favorite second-hand book store. "Hi!" he says, bouncing on his toes and giving her a bright smile. She gives him a look and tries to duck past him, but he's too tall and his chest is too broad for her to get by and she hates him so much.

"I know you've been having the dreams too."

"Good for you," she says elbowing him in the gut.

"I know what they're about." She stops at this and peers up at him quizzically. He just keeps staring down at her with the same infuriatingly bright grin.

"Are you going to tell me?"

His grin fades. "Do you want me to?"

Annabeth groans. "If you're going to keep playing mind games with me, I'm out. Let me leave."

He stops her and sits her down on a bench. "The dreams are memories."

Annabeth scoffs. "Really? That's what you've got?" He doesn't say anything. "But you're obviously right. Centaurs and nymphs and all of those other things are obviously real. Stop bullshitting me, and let me leave-"

Just as she's getting up, he pulls out a pen and uncaps it and the pen…turns into a sword. She plops back down immediately (and then regrets because damn those benches are hard). "What the hell?" She sighs. "I'm Annabeth Chase," she says, quizzically, looking up at him through narrowed eyes.

He smiles wide like he was expecting this, like he finally found what he was looking before and says, "I know."

; ; ; ;

Annabeth leaves almost immediately after her talk with Percy.

("I need space," she had said.

"Okay," he answered and then he walked away.)

She makes an effort not to look for him, and he does too. It gets really lonely after a while.

(What was I? To you?"

"Everything.")

She keeps imagining him curled up on the couch with her, throwing popcon at the screen whenever Micah or Josh or Sean or whoever does something stupid. She misses him, which is ridiculous because she doesn't even know him. And then one day, despite both their efforts at avoidance, they run into each other again (literally).

"Hey!" he says. He's wearing a beanie today, and gods Annabeth really needs to fix his hair. "I've been looking for you."

Annabeth frowns. "I told you-"

"I know. I'm not going to proposition you or anything, there's just this really neat donut place nearby, and I was wondering if you'd like to come with me?" He stares down at her with those bright eyes, and he looks so hopeful that she caves as soon as he finishes talking.

"Fine."

; ; ; ;

They eat the donuts in the alley, because Percy's always had a thing for quiet out of the way places. He sets one down for the rats, and then he tucks in with a speed she didn't even think was possible. "Where are you putting them?" she asks, staring as he finishes his sixth donut.

He grins at her, and then his expression becomes more serious. "We need to talk."

"I don't even know you."

He gives her a pointed look. "You know what I mean."

"Do I?" He rolls his eyes. She laughs. "Well? Go on."

He fidgets for a while, then takes a bite of another donut instead of speaking. "Are you…" She waits. "Do you still need space?"

Her smile falls too and she stands up. "I understand if you're…tired of waiting…but I still..." She huffs. "That was a lot of information to process and I can't be expected to just-"

"I didn't mean it like that," he says softly, standing too.

She deflates. "Of course you didn't. I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that."

"Right." He clears his throat.

She steps toward him, but trips on a stray coffee cup instead, and she falls into him. Her face ends up pressed to Percy's chest and gods he feels so familiar and oh, she wants.

She takes a beat to get her bearings and then steps away. Pain flickers over his face for a split second and then it's gone and she hates herself, hates herself for not being able to remember, hates herself for not being what he wants, hates herself for finding him in the first place.

She looks down at her feet. A tear falls on her shoe. He walks away.

"Percy?" she asks carefully.

He stops. "Annabeth."

"Don't leave."

He laughs, roughly. "Never."

; ; ; ;

Annabeth's memory comes back in bits and pieces but even a month later, she doesn't remember most of it. She tries to resign herself to the fact that she probably will never know everything, but she wants to.

Percy hasn't left. She sees him standing just outside the bookstore she hangs out at sometimes when everything dies down enough for her to take a little time for herself. She lets herself catch his gaze as her fingers drift across the leather spines but he never acknowledges her.

She thinks about what would happen if she pulls him inside with her, invites him to her apartment. Sometimes she hates him for existing because she never wanted any of this monster-fighting crap. She wanted to be an architect or an artist, she wanted crappy coffee and a house in the suburbs and instead the world wiped her memories and gave her a boy she might have loved.

She thinks about Percy a lot and she knows deep down that she, that they, can never go back no matter how much they try to, no matter how much they want to.

; ; ;

Percy makes a habit of standing outside the bookstore every Tuesday because that's when she goes too. He feels like her bodyguard even though she never needed anyone to protect her.

One day, she comes outside. He doesn't know why but he definitely isn't complaining. "It's nice outside, isn't it?" she asks, staring up at the sky. The stars are almost invisible because of the light pollution but the snow that's falling changes colors, silver for just a moment and then gold the next.

"Yeah," he says softly because he doesn't trust his voice not to break.

"It's a shame we can't see the stars, isn't it."

Percy nods and then curses himself for being so stupid because she can't see him, she isn't looking.

They stand in silence before she says, "Thank you for staying."

"Of course." He turns his head to look at her. Her hair glows in the light of the streetlamp and something about the sight of snow caught in her hair makes his breath catch and it hits him then, how much he loves her even though she doesn't remember she doesn't remember she doesn't rememberand he hates himself for thinking about it, hates himself for loving her, hates her for being perfect and beautiful and Annabeth,even after all that's happened.

She turns too. "I remember some of it," she says tentatively. "Us, I mean."

He blinks. "Really?" he says, a small smile growing on his face.

"Us, as in, you know…us. But even then, I remember, like, two things, but I'm working on the rest. I read in a journal somewhere that-"

"Annabeth." She stops, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth.

He's grinning now. "You really remember?"

"Well, like I said, not a lot but…yeah." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

He grins at her then turns back to the night sky. She turns too; he can see it out of the corner of his eye. When he's sure she isn't looking anymore, he mouths I love you in to the darkness, and he wishes he could say it out loud but then he thinks of Annabeth the day he saw her again, the day he met her in that alley and he knows he can't. It hurts.

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