Okay, so everyone, and I mean EVERYONE wants me to continue this story, so I shall!

This is a year or so later. Annabeth's younger brothers are being born! YIPPEE! But is she excited? Let's find out in the...

Disclaimer: No, she's not excited. Also, I don't own Annabeth, or her stepmom, or her brothers, or her father, or PJO.

Now, enjoy the show! Story. Show, story, whatever.

Third Person Limited (Annabeth)

The hospital was a cold white place filled with human emotion. Happiness, sadness, anxiety, horror. And numbness. Eventually in all came to numbness. Numb with happiness, numb with sadness, numb with anxiety, numb with horror. Whatever the emotion was, it was accompanied by that numbness. And whatever the feeling was, that absence of feeling made it worse. Even the happiness.

And sometimes, it was just emptiness. The emptiness came with numbness, too, but it was the worst kind of numbness. Without another feeling to keep it at bay, the sensation of not feeling traveled everywhere, until a person was only dimly aware of pacing the floors, or polishing glasses, or simply doing nothing at all.

Annabeth Chase was empty.

Her father was gripped with anxiety. His wife- not Annabeth's stepmother, just his wife- was going into labor, giving birth to his sons. Just a few walls separated him from the love of his life, and he couldn't break them down to be by her side, to comfort her.

And Annabeth Chase was empty.

She should have been excited and anxious, waiting for the doctor, the nurse, SOMEONE to come and tell her and her father that Helen was all right, that the babies were all right, that they could stop worrying and rejoice. She wasn't. All she could feel was... nothingness. Emptiness.

Her half-brothers. It didn't feel right.

Just under one years ago, the first monster attack had come. There had been monsters before that, but no real attacks. Helen had been terrified. Frederick was finally forced to tell his wife and child the truth about Athena. He had been in love with a goddess. Annabeth couldn't help but wonder how he could possibly love Helen more.

And now there were children. Her brothers. No, it didn't feel right. Love was supposed to be forever.

But this didn't sadden Annabeth. It merely added to her emptiness. It wasn't even much of a revelation, either. Annabeth had come to terms with her place in her "family" when Helen and her father got married.

Just the flower girl. Then and now. And that would never change.

Frederick was pacing, wearing the soles of his shoes thin. He barely managed to glance at Annabeth, barely managed a reassuring smile, before he was back to worrying about the main part of his life; Helen. And soon, two boys. Two charming little angels. Normal little angels. Because Annabeth was once a charming little angel, too. But she was never normal. And now, she wasn't even abnormal. She was just a bystander as the main man worried about the leading woman.

Just the flower girl. Just part of the procession. Never the lead role.

The doctor came out of the room, a smile on his weary face.

"You have two healthy little boys, Mr. Chase," the man said.

Frederick let out a happy sigh. "And Helen?"

"She's as healthy as they are."

Annabeth's father smiled. "May I see them?"

"Of course."

Frederick nodded gratefully at the doctor, them went into the room the doctor had just exited.

Annabeth made to follow.

The doctor gave her a quizzical look. "Are you family?"

Annabeth nodded. The doctor smiled and let her pass.

Even the doctors didn't recognize her as part of her own family.

Just the flower girl.

Inside, Helen held two bundles of blankets in her arms. The bundles had tufts of dark hair sticking out of them.

"We have twins," Helen whispered. "I want one of them to be named Robert."

Annabeth's father smiled. "Bobby. Like your father. And... Matthew?"

Helen nodded, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. "Bobby and Matthew."

The room was so full of gladness, Annabeth doubted anyone could feel the cold numbness in the room besides her. The white walls exuding the cold, the cold leeching away at the joy, at the emptiness that still resided inside her.

"Here, Annabeth," Helen said. She handed Annabeth one of the children. "Hold Bobby for a minute, would you?"

Not, Annabeth, hold your brother. Just "hold Bobby." She was like an attendant, a nurse that no one needed to pay attention to. "Hold Bobby for a minute."

As she held her half-brother, Annabeth did not feel that rush of affection that everyone described when they first held a newborn. There was just detachment. Here was one more person who would consider her to be different from them. One more person to be part of play, but in main roles. They were with the bride as she walked down the aisle, and Annabeth was still just part of the procession leading up to them.

Still just the flower girl. Even to babies.

As they took Bobby and Matthew home for the first time, Annabeth could only manage to think one thing.

Even to newborns, I'm still just the flower girl.

Okay, that's another one done!

In case anyone was wondering or hadn't figured it out, Annabeth is probably around five and a half, five and three quarters, something like that.

I liked this chapter, too! Even with babies, she's still just the flower girl...

Oh, and the word of the day is El Nino (?) (the second N is actually supposed to have the squiggle thing over it, but I couldn't figure out how to do that... heh... I failed). Look it up, it's weird.

Love ya! lulu