The first thing Annabeth learned about her fellow Athena kids when she arrived at Camp Half–Blood as a eight–year–old– they weren't always there. At first, she had thought that they were flighty, like an anxious butterfly, and didn't like staying in the same place too long– and then she discovered quests, and how having godly DNA didn't make you invincible. After that, Annabeth was wary, but always curious– and whenever she saw a butterfly she wondered if it was really anxious, or running from something we couldn't see.
The second thing Annabeth learned– they memorized. Everything. From the chores list to the encyclopedia, there was probably an Athena who had it in their brain. And Annabeth found that she was no different– one day she woke up and actually remembered who had stable cleanup duty that day, and was feeling very good about herself until Malcolm smiled, handed her the dreaded Bucket Of All Evil For The Stables, and told her to go celebrate. And even as she was cleaning up pegasus droppings, she still felt like that little something had finally clicked– she was a full member of the Athena Cabin, scooping poop.
Annabeth learned that this memorization stretched even further– the Athenas could memorize people, as well. While Annabeth was not the most artistic of people, she had a 3–D image of any given person in her head. Her problem? She remembered in black and white.
It was probably because of all those old movies, she reasoned. That's what her dad would show her when she was little. 1950's rom coms, sob stories, the whole deal. She especially remembered the marathons they would have when she was sick– where they would watch movies until she was about to collapse, and then he would butterfly kiss her forehead ("To avoid germs," he said.) But no matter what reason her memory was strange, it was just...there. It didn't seem unusual to Annabeth at all...until she met him.
And the question remains–how could a son of the sea god change the way the daughter of wisdom remembers things?
The second she saw him she gave him the once–over, scanning a carbon copy into her mind. And, like always, it was black and white, inky brushstrokes on crumbling parchment. In fact, she wouldn't have given him a second thought had it not been for the trident hovering over his head. And from that moment on, each night before she went to bed, she took her mental ink brush and marred the picture. And in the morning, her dreams had mopped away all the wet ink, and she was ready for another day of Tolerating Percy Jackson.
Then, as their quest went by, as well as Percy's first year at camp, Annabeth began to wipe away the leftover ink stains the dreams had missed, and look at the picture more..entirely, you might say. She knew it wasn't really right to hold a grudge against a guy because of what his father had done to her mother, was it? Especially since that side of her family was messed up enough already.
The next night, Annabeth woke in a cold sweat, panting, eyes darting.
Her dream...back at her house. The spiders, crawling towards her in blue shafts of moonlight–
Wait, Annabeth. she thought. Blue?
And as she thought about it, she remembered the red hourglasses on the spider's scaly backs. She remembered the sea–foam green of her curtains being overwhelmed by Arachne's children. She was finally dreaming in color. And she was mad.
The next day, Annabeth scoured the "library" (Athena Cabin bookshelves) but could find nothing on suddenly–triggered memory change. And that night, it happened again– but the dream was different. She was underwater, in a bubble, a shaft of golden light breaking into million beams, a sub-aquatic light show. There was a boy with his hands on her face, and her arms were wrapped around his neck. She was...she was kissing a boy. A sudden euphoria filled her, and they broke apart just enough for her to smile against his lips. He drifted away from her, eyes wide, hopeful –and sea green.
She awoke, her happiness overwhelming the fact that she was still dreaming in vibrant colors–in fact, if all her dreams could be like that, Annabeth wouldn't even care.
And on that fateful day after the Second Titan War, under the canoe lake, Annabeth was on cloud nine. It had come true. It had come true.
The months passed, and August came. Annabeth hated it when people said the word 'August' because then she immediately thought about Augustus Caesar, and her brain was overloaded with the Wikipedia article she had read when she was at her dad's house in San Francisco. Which, of course, meant Percy was saying the word 'August' every five seconds.
They walked along the circle of cabins until they reached the campfire. Percy smiled down at her– when did he get so tall?– and kissed her goodnight. A herd of butterflies materialized in her stomach. "Goodnight, Annie." he whispered. "See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow, Perce."
And that was the last time Annabeth saw Percy for the next eight months.
But during those eight months, something happened– Annabeth began to lapse back into monochrome. She fought it– the color photos of them together seemed to be helping, but then...one morning she awoke and couldn't recall the shade of his eyes.
That morning, she cried.
His portrait in her head was back to brushstrokes on a page of dusty paper, and she couldn't help but remember the marathons again–but not for the movies. Percy was like a butterfly kiss– it feels good, but kind of cautious, and gone far too fast for her liking.
So she searched. Hours upon hours, trying to find not only him but a way back into color. She asked the Hypnos Cabin, they didn't know. She asked the Morpheus Cabin, and they couldn't come close. The thing that she had once hated had become addicting; it drew her in, hanging just beyond her fingertips.
And one night...she blinked. She was running through a forest, the leaves green around her...green. Green! She laughed so hard she almost cried. In fact, she almost didn't notice who was next to her.
"Percy? Is that you?"
He looked dazed. "Annabeth?"
Her heart did a little leap. "Where are you?"
"Annabeth, I.." but he was already fading away. No no no no not when she was this close to him.
"We think Tyson's the closest to you. Stay where you are! It will be easier for him to find you."
And he was gone, leaving her alone, surrounded by green. So when she finally awoke, she was surprised do feel wet streams running down her face. She was so close...too close for comfort, but still just close enough for that warm fuzzy feeling of being with him.
That's when she woke up.
And then...the son of Zeus– Jupiter, whatever, she didn't really care– arrived with his companions, and Annabeth noticed the same sort of feeling of power about him– were all children of the Big Three like that? Jason seemed tense, though, whereas Percy was calmer, more easy-going, the difference between electricity and still waves.
The Argo II went up, and Annabeth spent a good portion of her time in the unfinished horse stable. The soft amber glow of the lights gave her a break from the leader she was in real life, and their color made it less obvious that her cheeks were glistening. Every night, before she fell asleep, she wiped up the salty tears that had stained the glass, and every day she cried again. And every night she hoped the light would get stuck in her retinas and stay with her in her sleep.
Finally, the fateful day came. As the Argo II sailed over New Rome, Annabeth began to remember the golden
sunbeams surrounding her, a faded dream of an underwater light show just for her. She remembered all the colors, gleaming as vibrant as stars in the night, and they grew brighter and brighter until they shattered, revealing one single memory– August.
The final day he said goodnight.
His face, illuminated by firelight, making his eyes glow softly like emeralds. The way he'd said with certainty that he would see her the next morning when they both awoke. And then...him, arms around her, smiling down at her in the Roman sun.
He remembered her.
He. Remembered. Her.
Herememberedherherememberedherherememberedher
That night, she showed him the stables. Annabeth had never been afraid of heights, and Leo had assured her that the bay doors wouldn't open if an elephant was standing on it–he was the one with the controls. And they fell asleep, hand in hand, and that night she dreamed in color.
It had not been the first time since Percy left, however. All dreams involving the drachma her mother had given her were presented in full, which frightened her even more. And when she had to leave on her solo suicide quest for her mother (never thought she'd say those words) she was even more frightened. Following the glowing red symbols was like being in a fiery maze– Annabeth wished she could fall asleep and see the world in charcoal, not watercolor.
And then...the present. She stared into his eyes, sobbing. Her arm felt like it was about to be ripped from its socket. Her desperate gray eyes stared into his, a roiling ocean and crying storm cloud softly colliding. And in that moment, she could see every black–and–white line of his sketch being filled in, and for once, she knew what he was going to do.
Even as they fell into darkness, she could still see the green light shining from somewhere deep in his eyes, a mixture of fear, desperation, and hope twisting them into darkness, and she knew that the color would always be with her. A brush of butterfly wings touched her forehead, and she closed her eyes.
