A NOT SO PERFECT FAMILY

A dull grey shoe tapped impatiently on the ground. The bookworms sat clustered at the far end of their lunch table. They kept well away from the surly blonde that had secluded herself at the edge of the lunch benches, knowing full well that a pissed off Annabeth was a dangerous Annabeth.

"Um..."

"What?" she snapped.

Her vehement stare stopped Malcolm in his tracks. He gulped audibly and inched a bit closer. "Annabeth, do you want to talk about whatever's wrong?"

"No," she answered. "No I do not want to talk about it. Why do you care anyway?"

"Well, you've sort of been shooting off these death glares and people have been starting to get pretty scared," he told her.

"If you must know," Annabeth started. "My errant tutee has been absent from school for more than a week."

"Yeah I know, Percy's in my Science class," Malcolm said. "But why are you so bothered by it?"

"Do you have any idea how much work he's missed in English?"

"Well," he began, wracking his head for any possible solutions. "You could go to his house and give him all the stuff he's missed. The school's got a directory for the entire student body."

She stared at him for a few minutes before saying anything. "That's a good idea, I'll go up to student services right now."

And with that she was gone.

The lunch table heaved a collective sigh at the peaceful outcome. No one had seen Annabeth this pissed since The Great Laptop Crash of '06. That debacle had not ended prettily.

But as Malcolm gave the rest of the bookworms a thumbs-up, he wondered. Annabeth wasn't one to delve too deeply into other people's business. Why was she so caught up in Percy Jackson's absence? Even if he was his tutor, she normally wouldn't have cared that much. He couldn't help thinking that the architecture enthusiast had changed ever since she became Percy's tutor.

Not like he'd say that to her face though. He did like living thank you very much.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Red gold foliage rustled in the autumn breeze, occasionally dropping a brittle leaf down onto Annabeth as she waited in the bus line. By the time she finally got on, every seat had been taken. Sighing, she resigned herself to teetering in place as the bus gave a lurch forward and started making its way down the street.

"You're going to fall if you stand like that," said a helpful voice.

Annabeth looked to the voice and saw a peculiar girl wave a greeting at her. The stranger had her frizzy red hair pinned up with what looked like twenty multi coloured bobby pins. "Well there's nowhere to sit."

The redhead beckoned her closer and pointed to the Plexiglas window above her head. "Just lean a hand against that. It makes balancing a lot easier."

"But there's a 'keep hands off glass' sign," Annabeth pointed out, staring at the neon yellow sign.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," Red said.

"But..."

The bus jostled violently as a car up ahead ran a red light. Its passengers shifted and reeled, seemingly unfazed by the erratic driving. The only reason they'd be so unresponsive would be because it just happened so often. With another sigh, Annabeth made her way towards the friendly stranger and planted an open palm on the smooth glass.

"Oh, you've dropped something," Red exclaimed, bending down to pick the fallen object off the ground. She looked it over and regarded it closely before holding it up to Annabeth. "A sand dollar?"

"It's a good luck charm," the blonde replied as Red dropped the small disc into her hand. Annabeth rubbed at the worn tan surface with her thumb before sticking it into her pocket.

Curious green eyes sparkled up at grey irises. "Where'd you get it?"

"Someone special gave it to me," Annabeth replied, not elaborating on the fact that she'd almost drowned the day she got her sand dollar. Red didn't need to know that; it was personal. A familiar feeling of wonder and appreciation welled up inside of her at the memory of the kind boy who'd pulled her out of the freezing seawater all those years ago. "It's supposed to keep me safe."

"Best not to drop it again then," Red commented.

"Right," she nodded with a small smile. Annabeth dug a neatly folded piece of paper out of her pocket and bit her lip. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know where Moonlace Drive is would you?"

"Oh, I've a friend who lives on that street," Red said helpfully. "You get off at the next stop, which is coming up in around ten seconds."

"Oh thanks," she thanked, moving towards the doors. They opened with a pneumatic hiss as Annabeth stepped out and waved a hasty goodbye to her new friend. She hoisted her extra heavy backpack (loaded with all of Percy's missed work) and looked up the unfamiliar street. She spotted a man ambling along and decided to ask for directions. As she walked towards him, she couldn't help thinking, a bit guiltily, that he looked like a tusk-less walrus in thrift store clothes. But ah well, no one else was around and she hadn't thought of google-mapping for directions. "Excuse me?"

"Wha?" he slurred, turning is massive double-chinned head towards her. The stench of cheap booze, chewed tobacco and general filth hit Annabeth in a wave of olfactory assault. Her eyes watered from the reek. "Wha' d'you want?"

No sense backing out now, she thought to herself. "Do you know where 6068 Moonlace Drive is?"

"HA," the drunken man barked, spraying spittle. "You wanna go there? To that dump? Go ahead girlie, it's that piece 'o shit building over there."

He motioned to a red brick building at the end of the block and chortled out a few more guffaws before turning beetle black eyes to Annabeth. It was exactly three seconds before she realized he was waiting for her to say something. "Thank you for your help."

And with that she left the drunkard to his own devices, which apparently consisted of slumping against a mailbox and falling asleep. Worry tugged at the corners of Annabeth's mind. It didn't feel right just leaving him there in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Mngh," the man mumbled through the haze of intoxication. And then he sputtered an offensive phrase. It was one of the most chauvinistic, sexist, disrespectful things Annabeth had ever heard. After that, she didn't feel so bad walking away from the drunken lump.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sally Jackson got up as soft tinkling sounded from the kitchen. Her son was cleaning up after another fight. Her nose tingled slightly as she blew into a Kleenex, shuffling towards her bedroom door. Sally cracked the door open and stuck her head out. "Percy?"

He looked up from where he crouched squatting on the ground next to the kitchen counter. Yellow rubber gloves adorned his hands while he dumped shards of jagged glass into a small sized garbage bag. "Mom? I thought you were asleep."

"No one could sleep through that," Sally said, a weak smile on her lips as she moved in to help him. "Let me help."

"You should be in bed," Percy said. He swept up the rest of the debris and knotted the plastic bag. "If you keep trying to do housework the fever's not going to go away."

"I'm the mom here Percy," she reminded him, crossing her arms in mock anger.

The corners of his mouth lifted in the ghost of a smile. "I know."

And then the doorbell rang and Percy turned, grimfaced, towards the apartment door.

"Mom, get back into your room," Percy fretted. He herded her back as a single thought flashed in his mind. Rising anger and anxiety chafed against each other in the pit of his stomach. WHY was the asshole back so soon?

Sally resisted. "Percy, I don't think you should face him alone. The two of you will just get into another fight."

Percy put his hands on her shoulder blades and pushed her gently into the threshold of her room. He tried to ignore the cringe of pain that ran through her; his finger must have brushed against an old bruise. Swinging the door closed, Percy kissed his mom on her cheek. "Better me than you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Annabeth trudged up the stairwell a bit apprehensively. It had just occurred to her, as a kind old lady had let her into the building, that she'd never even seen Percy out of school. The thought nibbled at her and she wondered absentmindedly how his room would look. She neared the Jackson apartment and rang the doorbell, finding herself imagining his walls painted the same sea green color of his eyes.

Eyes that she hadn't thought could look so livid with hate.

Yet that was exactly what she saw as the door jerked back violently, its chain lock holding it in place. The ocean pools that had always looked at her with annoyance and amusement were now filled with what Annabeth could only describe as unbridled rage.

She recoiled from his glare as if she'd been stung. Thankfully, his eyes softened, first to confusion, then surprise, and finally apology. But Annabeth still felt the ache of the vehement gaze; it was an unfamiliar pain that she didn't understand and that frustrated her to no end.

"Oh," Percy gasped, pulling the door closed with a gentle click. She heard the chain lock slide open before he reopened the door. "Annabeth, what're you doing here?"

"I came to give you all the work you missed," she replied, thankful that her voice sounded steadier than she felt.

"Work?" he echoed, scrunching his brow. "English work?"

"Well that wouldn't have been very productive," she scoffed. Inwardly, Annabeth was surprised at her sarcasm. She hadn't meant to say that. "I brought work from all your subjects. Why do you think my backpack looks like it's going to explode?"

Percy smiled half-heartedly at the idle banter that always ping-ponged back and forth between his tutor and him. It was a prettier part of his life. Deciding that spilling out schoolwork in the middle of the hallway was a bad idea, he offered, "Well do you want to come in?"

Hesitation glued Annabeth to the spot for a second before she stepped past Percy with a polite 'thanks'. The apartment was bathed in the warm orange glow that only autumn afternoons brought. She could only see the dining room and kitchen from where she stood, but everything seemed to have a recurring theme. The fridge magnets, kitchen towels, soap bars, they were all—

"Blue," Annabeth muttered.

"What was that?" Percy asked as he relocked the door. He fumbled with the chain, realizing that he was still wearing the yellow gloves.

"All your stuff," Annabeth said. "Even your wallpaper, it's all blue."

"It's my mom's favourite color," he said, yanking the gloves off and setting them on the not-so-smooth surface of his old dining table.

"Oh," she breathed. Her backpack thudded on the floor as she set it down; its zipper was already halfway open. The brown paper envelope she'd filled with handouts and homework assignments bulged out. Annabeth plucked it free and looked through it, checking to see if anything was missing. "Do you like blue?"

"I like it too, but not the same shade she likes," Percy answered as he dumped the broken glass into the trash before Annabeth could notice it. Knowing her, she'd want to know exactly how he'd managed to break it. It wasn't something that would be so easy to explain...

But Annabeth didn't notice. She was too busy wondering why there weren't any photos anywhere. "What shade do you like?"

"The blue that's the color of the sea," Percy replied. "My mom likes a greener blue."

"Like the color of your eyes," she commented, her face blushing ever so slightly.

"She says it reminds her of my dad," Percy nodded as he took the envelope out of his tutor's hands, frowning at its heaviness. "Geez, why does the school give so much homework?"

"We've got high academic standards," Annabeth declared.

"My old school didn't give half as much," he muttered.

"Would your old school let you miss half a week of school?"

"I had personal reasons."

"Percy?" a gentle voice called, cutting Annabeth's retort off. "Who was at the door?"

"Just a friend Mom," he called back.

A brunette walked out of the corridor that Annabeth had noticed as she entered. She was thin and frail looking, wearing a blue robe and olive green sweatpants. Her eyes were slightly lidded while her nose was most definitely red. Stray strands of grey ran through her chocolate brown hair, tied up in a haphazard bun.

Percy's frown deepened. "Mom, you're not going to get any better if you keep walking around."

"I'm fine Percy," Mrs. Jackson replied. She turned to Annabeth and smiled the kind smile that only moms ever smiled. It was something that was unfamiliar to the blonde, but it was nice. "Hi sweetie my name's Sally Jackson, it's nice to meet you. Are you a friend from CHB?"

"Nice to meet you too Mrs. Jackson my name's Annabeth," Annabeth said back, surprised to have a parent introduce her first name. "And yes, I'm Percy's peer tutor."

"Oh!" Sally exclaimed, taking a seat at the table and looking up at the two teens. "I've heard about you from Percy."

"Moooom," Percy whined in that grown up way only teenagers could pull off.

"Oh Percy," Sally chided. "It's alright to tell your mother about your day."

The two of them drifted into mother-son talk and Annabeth found herself wondering, not for the first time, if her mother would have ever wanted to do this with her. A light atmosphere had settled over the room, radiating from Sally and Percy. They were like those happy families that you see in picture frames when you first buy them.

Then, for the second time that day, the doorbell rang and the Jacksons' fragile, temporary peace was shattered into a million pieces.

The two Jacksons tensed. Annabeth could see the hate creep back into Percy's eyes, but this time it was mixed in with what looked like...fear.

"Mom you have to go back in," Percy said hastily, tugging at his mom's arm and helping her up. The sleeve of her robe rode up and sagged to her elbow and Annabeth's eyes widened in surprise. An ugly dark bruise marred her arm. "He's coming."

"Percy never mind me," Sally said with a dismissive wave. She pulled her sleeve back down and stood on her own, looking her son in the eye. "I've dealt with him for a long time now. You have to worry about Annabeth."

Percy looked like he'd run into a glass wall. His face was contracted in shock. He snapped his mouth closed as he turned to Annabeth, thinking an embarrassing thought. I'd forgotten she was even here.

But before he could usher her to somewhere safe, before Sally could get herself into the bedroom, before Percy could even unlock the door...

...the strong smell of drunkenness and filth wafted through.

Gabe Ugliano stumbled in through the broken door that had cracked under his weight. He looked at the three of them through glazed eyes and raised his right arm. Something was held in his grubby fisted hand, something that glinted maliciously in the afternoon light.

And Percy watched as his stepfather pulled a vicious looking knife out and pointed it shakily at—

Note: Yes, I didn't write the name there on purpose.

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