The next week was a breeze, Peter's mind was occupied work and all the complications that come with putting up a knew building. The appearance of Aphrodite slipped his mind, and another week passed. No warning came. No wild thunderstorm rocked Phoenix. Everything was eerily normal. And then Peter got careless.

And then she came.

It was a bright Friday night. The moon was so full that it made the trees cast a shadow. Peter and Veronica had just returned form a dinner date together. It was 9 o'clock, Chris and Cassie were still up watching TV and bickering like siblings always do. Peter was in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water. As he chugged it the doorbell rang.

"I got it!" Chris and Cassie yelled simultaneously.

Peter heard the two scramble to open the door and voice on the other side ask, "Hello, does a Percy Jackson live here?"

Peter set down the glass, his left hand shook, and he walked to the door. As he got to the hall, he heard his son reply, "I don't know any Percy Jackson, but my father is Peter Johnson. Is that any help?"

Peter reached the door and stood behind his children. "Chris, Cassie, why don't you two go do your homework?" He said, and they nodded.

Peter looked at the women before him. Her face was shell shocked, she looked at him like he should have had the same reaction. Instead, anger bubbled. He was looking at a blonde haired women, with startling grey eyes who was five inches shorter than him. She was wearing khaki shorts that fell to her mid thigh, and a white blouse. Her skin was not tanned like he remembered, but her curly brown hair was more taken care of. The woman had on mascara, something that Peter could never remember her wearing.

Her eyes prickled with tears. "I can't believe its you." She embraced him with a hug. Peter's arms hung loosely at his side, not hugging her back. "What's wrong?"

Peter took a deep, shaky breath. "I don't know who or what you are, but please leave my family and I alone."

She looked confused, "It's me, Annabeth. Annabeth Chase."

Peter shook his head, "Leave now."

"No." The so-called Annabeth said sternly. "Give me one good reason why I should."

"Because Annabeth Chase died over 20 years ago. So please, if this is some way to get me back to New York, it's sick. Now please leave."

Peter shut the door but at the last minute "Annabeth" stuck her arm in-between the door and forced it to open. Determination spread across her face. Peter noticed a few wrinkles on her face.

"That wasn't me- if you just let me explain!"

"No!" Peter said, the memory of Annabeth's death came flooding back to him. "Get off of my property, and stay away. Tell the gods that this little stint they can guarantee that I will not be returning!"

Peter slammed the door so hard that the whole wall shook. He made sure to lock it too. He immediately went to the kitchen and grabbed a small glass and stormed off into his big study. It was a stereotypical big office with a big wooden desk in it, encyclopedias on the bookshelves for show, a big computer on the corner of the desk. He sat in his huge cushioned wheelie chair and opened the bottom right drawer, bringing out the bottle of Jack Daniels that he kept for emergencies. This definitely counted as an emergency. He poured the amber liquid into his glass then washed it down. Peter rarely drank, you could tell he didn't have many emergencies he had by the way the bottle of Jack was nearly full and eight years old. But Peter had half a mind to just drain the thing right there and then.

Instead he headed downstairs, bringing the bottle with him, and out to the backyard which was a nicely groomed area that was watered green. He went into the shed in the corner of their property. Peter noticed that the stars had been replaced by big clouds. No surprises there. Peter entered the shed and turned the over head light on. He moved over the small table that held all of his tools and bent to the ground. Peter found the loose piece of wood in the floor and removed it, revealing a long wooden box, sitting in the hole.

He lifted it out of the ground and placed it on the table. Peter drew a breath and another swig of whiskey before he opened it. He hadn't opened that box in about a decade, every time he opened it, he could feel Percy wanting to break free. But he opened it anyways. Slowly.

He saw the dusty pictures of his old friends back at camp. He picked up the first faded picture, his hand shaking. It showed Percy, Annabeth, Thalia, Grover, Nico, and Rachel in front of a 20 foot bonfire. It was taken just after the Titan War, they all looked so tired yet relieved it was all over. That they were still alive. The next was of Percy and Annabeth together at the observation deck of the Empire State Building.

Annabeth's hair was thrown to one side, she was looking up at Percy, trying not to show how in love with him she was. Percy's sea green eyes practically popping out of this picture as he looked straight at the camera. They were so young. That's all Peter could think of. So wounded and young, and brave, oblivious of their fate.

He set the two pictures down and moved on to the next item. Peter picked up the beaded camp necklace and fiddled with each bead. He only had four, Percy didn't stick around long enough to get the fifth. He had no idea if anyone even bothered to make beads when the Giant War ended. There weren't many campers left...

The last thing in the box always made Peter's heart sink. He looked down at the severed blade of Riptide. It in two pieces, the jagged break about ten inches away from the hilt. All magic escaped when it was broken. It could never kill another monster, defend Percy, or return to pen form again.

Peter found the stool in the shed, pulling it in front of the table, so he could sit. He rested his head on his and and looked back at the picture of Percy and the real Annabeth. He tried to link together the 16 year old Annabeth that he remembered to the version of her he had just seen. But all he could think of was her dead body. His fists clenched. Her death was 100% avoidable. Percy had known her death wasn't his his fault, but always found a way to blame himself. Kind of like Veronica.

Anger flushed through him. The picture of her lifeless grey eyes wide open on the side of the real Mount Olympus, laying in a pool of her own blood, throat slit, knife still in her hand, just wouldn't leave him mind. Peter stood up and swept everything off of the table. The suddenly awakened pull in his gut returned after decades of being dormant.

A roar filled Peter's ears and the sprinkler system in his yard suddenly went off. As soon as Peter realized what had just happened, he willed the sprinklers to shut off. All of a sudden Peter felt incredibly tired, he knew it was because of the lack of water in the desert. It took more energy to summon water from where he was, plus it had a been a while since he last used his powers. Peter sat back on the stool and took a breath.

"I'm not dead you know." Peter jumped and looked at the figure in the doorway of the shed. "Athena... she saved me. When Octavian... when he cut my throat open, when I knew I was going to die...Athena saved me and brought me to Olympus. The Mist covered everything up, the gods faked my death. I haven't left Olympus for years, they told me you were dead too, but eventually I found out the truth. That you left."

Peter looked down at the ground, he probably looked so ridiculous, still in his suit, all dusty now. "Tell me something only Annabeth Chase would know."

The woman stepped into the shed and into the light, closer to Peter. "You drool in your sleep."

Peter almost wanted the women not to be Annabeth. Years of grieving and loneliness, of nightmares and depression to find out that she was actually alive. They had even been on Olympus at the same time, but she was hiding somewhere.

"Go on."

She crossed her arms, "When we were in the Sea of Monsters, you saved me from the Sirens and say my biggest dream: for my family to be together, for Luke to be normal again, and to be one of the best architects in the world. That winter we held up the world together, giving us matching grey streaks that eventually faded. We had our first kiss under Mount St. Helens which you blew up a few minutes later. When you still bore the curse of Achilles, your human spot was on the small of your back. I know that because I took a knife for you. Your fatal flaw is that you would give up your life in order to save a friend's life." Peter didn't say anything. "Believe me now?"

"Show me the scar." She held out her arm and pushed up her sleeve, revealing a sickly green scar. Peter shook his head.

"It's really you." He whispered.

"It's me." Annabeth said with a sad smile.

"Where were you?"

"On Olympus-"

"No." Peter interrupted, getting angry. "Where were you when I had to get over the fact that almost all of my friends were dead? I was hardly 17! Where were you when twenty-one survivors had to burn over a hundred shrouds? Greek and Roman alike."

"Percy-"

"My name is Peter!"

"Peter." She huffed. "You know damn well that I couldn't just leave Olympus and join you, Athena didn't save me because I deserved it, or because I saved her reputation. She saved me because of this moment, right now. We need you. Demigods are dying, they are hopeless. They need a leader, they need someone besides Chiron. They need you, we need you."

"If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a kid anymore Annabeth. I'm an old man that sits at a big desk in a big office. I have two kids, a wife. I can't safe the world again." Peter said.

"We're not asking you to save the world Peter. We're asking you to be a leader. They're kids with no place to go, no safe place, just like we were."

"What about you? You were more of a leader than I ever was."

Annabeth crossed her arms, "I'm only part of the story Peter. If we want to save these kids, it's going to take more than just Jason, Chiron and I."

"Jason?" Peter asked curiously. "Is he well?"

"He's in better shape now." Annabeth said gravely.

"Where are the gods in this? Mr. D?"

"Ancient laws, the usual BS. Mr. D's sentence was shortened again. He's been gone for a few years now."

The two of them were quiet for a long time. Peter tried to take it all in. Annabeth was alive. She had never even died, so it's not like she had come back from the dead, even it seemed that way. It didn't feel real. Maybe because the person standing before him was a 39 year old woman and not a 16 year old girl.

"Peter." Annabeth said, "How old are your kids?"

Peter looked up,"Uh, they're almost fourteen."

Annabeth scoffed, "And just how long were you going to keep the truth about their bloodline away from them? You know the rules, as I recall it was you who created them. Your kids need to be claimed as Poseidon's grandchildren."

"They're safe. All these years and no attacks, not one sign of a monster. We've all done fine."

"All of that has been shielded from you because it was a part of the oath, but the oath has been broken. Shattered would be a better word to describe it. Over the last two weeks your scent and your children's scent has been building. Are you going to take that risk? Especially with no place for your children to seek refuge."

Peter was silenced.

"That's what I thought." Annabeth paused, "By the way, I spoke to Sally. She agrees with the gods. You spent a lot of time trying to make sure demigods were appreciated and able to survive, now all of that work is down the drain. Do you really want to live with that on your mind?"

Annabeth pulled something out of her pocket and put it on the table. "Here's four plane tickets to New York. Your flight is at 2:00 pm. You'll stay at Sally's, she's expecting you."

"What about you?" Peter asked.

"I'll be around." She said, "I'll see you soon, Percy. I promise I won't disappear."

With that she left the shed. When she was completely gone Peter started to pick everything up and brought the box in the house and upstairs. He put it in his suitcase, it would be coming with them. When Peter was brushing his teeth, Veronica watched from the bathroom entrance, leaning against the door.

"Are you alright?" She asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Something like that." He said under his breath after he rinsed his mouth free of the foamy toothpaste.

Peter turned and started towards his wife, holding her close to him by her hips.

"What if we took a vacation? To New York City. Just for a week, the kids can visit their grandparents. We don't take enough vacations, and Cassie has been begging to go the the city lately." He said.

"I don't know Pete. The kids have school, I don't know if I can take off that much work."

"Say it's a family emergency. I mean, we are in need of a vacation." Family emergency just about summed up the situation.

"I'll se what I can do." Veronica replied.

Peter kissed her on the forehead, "Excellent."