Hey Guys.
So, its been a while. I've just been busy, really. Nothing too major to report. Starting college soon, so updates might be coming in less frequently... sorry. I hope you all know how much I appreciate the support and love that you all give these stories, and can't wait to hear from you. Really, I'd love it if you gave me feedback. What you like, what you don't, how you think every situation is going to play out, etc.
Been working on a mini-story, but it might be a long ways away. Anyone like Dungeons & Dragons, or any RPG like it? I'd love to hear about it.
Disclaimer: I'm Not Rick Riordan.
Annabeth:
(Fifteen Weeks)
"And you're sure you want to do this?" He asked again, worriedly looking at her from the corner of his eye as they sat in front of their destination. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and it did nothing to boost Annabeth's own confidence. She'd been second guessing herself since Sunday, when she'd first decided she needed to do this.
Really, she should've done this two weeks ago, but the rock that had been resting in her stomach had been keeping her bravery in check. She had been avoiding the situation for as long as she could. She even felt uncomfortable being at work before quitting, knowing how close her two tormentors were from her. On more than one occasion, she would glance fearfully at the doors because she thought she might've seen them.
Now, she was sitting a street away from her parents house, trying to gather her courage and stop Percy from backing out.
Okay, that wasn't fair to say. Percy had offered to sluff fifth and sixth period for her, determined that if she was to go, he would make sure that she wasn't alone when she did. It was almost sweet, but every nerve in her body was screaming at him to just shut up. She was having trouble trying to convince herself to walk into her own home. Percy needed to calm down. It was stressing her out.
Her hands rested on her abdomen, a more and more frequently comforting motion. She found herself doing that a lot lately, trying to calm down. It was a bit different, considering she was looking at the object of her discomfort. She didn't take her eyes off of the door when she spoke again. "Positive." She said.
He was silent for a moment, and the noise of traffic and city life was leaking through the closed windows. "Then why aren't we going in?" He asked, shifting in his seat. He seemed as uncomfortable as she did, but for different reasons, she knew. Annabeth had been giving Percy a bit of a cold shoulder since Central Park. Dropping her off had not been the same as the night they'd gone on their walk.
Annabeth still didn't move. She didn't take her eyes off of the door, either. She didn't really have an answer for him, but wasn't going to tell him that.
Percy was watching her again. Staring at her, trying to understand what she might be thinking. Or maybe he was just waiting for an answer of some kind from her. He had been quiet since Central Park, but not because he was afraid he'd said something wrong. He thought that hiding information from her was justified. It irked her to no end, and any 'normal' conversations they might've held were gone.
Maybe she made a face that worried him, or maybe his impatience was getting the better of him. Either way, it was a full five minutes before he did speak. "We can do this another day, if you aren't ready-"
"I need the clothes, and I need my laptop. I'd like to actually graduate high school, and at least look respectable before I have your spawn." She said, meaning it as an insult but coming out way too fond when she said the word 'spawn.' She grabbed belly, trying to both apologize and block out the baby's ears. She didn't want the baby to hear what they might be arguing about.
"Spawn." He muttered, but not sounding sorry or angry. "I kind of like that, actually." He admitted, grinning to himself. Annabeth's lips did not twitch. She wouldn't let Percy turn this around on her. It wasn't as quiet as long as before. "I could go in and grab everything for you, if you'd like." He said. "Just tell me what you need and I'll pick it up."
Annabeth shook her head, and not just because the idea of Percy seeing her room (as messy as she left it) without her there was appalling. "I can grab my own clothes, Percy. Just… Just give me a minute, okay?" She asked roughly, her tone conveying a different request all together: 'I'll grab my stuff when I'm ready. Shut up and stop trying to rush me.' When he shut his mouth, she again saw his brows scrunch together in anger, but they quickly became impassive again.
She had to prepare herself to walk back in, because she knew, deep down, this was going to be the last time she ever set foot in her childhood home. This could possibly be the last chance she had to pick up whatever items that she wanted to keep, while the rest would have to stay (she didn't want to stay long in Juniper's guest room). She'd have to go through what few possessions she had and distinguish between what was most important to her. She'd sit in her reading spot one last time…
Annabeth opened the door carefully, almost robotically. She didn't flinch when the wind hit her face or react when Percy opened his door as well. He'd already discussed his role with her, to which she'd reluctantly agreed. She waited patiently on the sidewalk, her hand resting on her now more pronounced bump. It had steadily been growing larger, to which Annabeth had gotten clumsier and more forgetful because of it. This time, she would most certainly be blaming the baby.
Percy reached into his trunk and brought out five empty boxes. Five cardboard boxes, to hold all the possessions that she might wish to take. Five boxes, for the memories to go into. She felt like she was dumping her entire soul into them, and with each item she'd put in it it might spill out. Percy held all of them, collapsed into one box, and went to take her hand. Annabeth pulled away, and he took all the boxes in both hands.
No one was in the house. She'd checked schedules, she'd watched to see if any lights might be on, or even if Matthew and Bobby might've stayed home sick (curiously enough, they always got sick together). Even as she closed the door behind them, the silence was unnerving, though she came home to silence each day anyways.
The living room was still scattered with markers and video game controllers while pictures still hung askew on the walls. The kitchen was piled with dirty dishes and the trash nearly overflowing with takeout containers. Just the smell alone of bad Thai food made her want to lose her lunch all over again, which would suck considering she'd been holding down for a full week now.
As she delved deeper into the house, checking her father's study and her parents room in case they might be home, Annabeth glanced at Percy while he stood behind her. He wasn't snooping into anything, but she noticed him pick up a family photo. And by family photo, Annabeth means one of the few with her in the background, or off to the side a little bit. Never smiling, never included. She breathed a little easier when he put the frame back down.
After a thorough investigation, Annabeth came to the conclusion that the house was empty, and would remain that way for at least another two hours. She didn't feel like that would be enough time, but she took a deep breath and rested her hand on her stomach. 'This is for you.'
"C'mon." Annabeth said, grabbing the boxes in Percy's hands and leading him up the stairs. She passed each individual room, trying not to feel too nostalgic or lingering in one place for too long. Percy followed wordlessly, and she appreciated that, really. This was a hard moment for her to have to go through, and his words wouldn't be appropriate while she left everything behind because of the mistake he (we, she corrected internally, wincing) made.
She opened her door to her room and nearly cried.
Everything was broken. Clothes were tossed all over the floor, along with anything else of value: books, sketches, notebooks, etc. Everything. She'd once had a small collection of snowglobes (one from New York, Coney Island, and the last from San Fransisco), but all that was left was shattered glass and her broken heart. Her fists clenched at her sides, demanding to hit something. Even if it was Percy, to which she wouldn't find unjustified.
She walked in slowly, avoiding the glass, and picked up one of her prized possessions: an architectural sketch of an office building she'd gotten a good grade on in eighth grade. It was one of the few classes she loved, and the teacher had praised her creative abilities, boosting her confidence higher than a kite. Now, it was torn and soggy, the ink and pencil graphite smudged beyond the point of recognition.
Tears began to fall freely down her face, and she wanted to shut down completely. To forget about everything else and sleep until maybe she didn't wake up. To rest easy, and to leave now. It was obvious, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that her father had done this. Maybe her stepmother had been included in the festivities as well. Either way, Annabeth wanted to leave, and hopefully never have to come back.
She was shaking, and the hands on her belly didn't comfort her as they had been for the past few days. Instead, her silent tears turned to sniffling, and she had to wipe her eyes because this wasn't fair. Almost everything in her room, any good memory or childish pleasure she'd kept was gone. Everything important to her was gone.
When his hand grabbed onto hers, she gladly accepted it this time. She clung tightly to the only source of solidity in her otherwise crumbling life, though she imagined he was feeling sorry for himself. Obviously, he'd chosen the wrong girl to knock up. He must've been regretting everything since he met her, and the attitude she'd been giving him. Her free fist crumpled the praise-earning design, and she began cry harder and harder.
Percy wrapped his arms around her, burying her into his chest. She complied entirely, letting her head rest against his collarbone and her tears soaking into his shirt. This was beyond anything her dad had ever done. This was beyond any cruelty he could've done to her. This? This room destroyed her. Percy had her smushed against him, head-stomach-thighs, and the feeling of him pressed closer than ever before was both assuring and painful. She'd fallen so far, accepting this comfort that not even Luke had ever given.
So, although it left her to feel more hollow and alone than before, she wiggled out of his grip. She took a big step back, her borrowed sneakers crunching glass underfoot. She folded her arms around her body completely, trying to feel even a fraction of comfort from herself, or the occupant that stayed within her. Oddly enough, she felt even emptier.
But judging by the way Percy began to ignore her, she guessed he was almost at his wits end. As they both began to put clothes into the boxes, and she glanced towards him on occasion, she was not surprised to see his back to her and his closed fist as pale as her sheets.
…
It was all Annabeth's fault.
Percy certainly wasn't being sentimental towards every piece of clothing, or broken knick-knack that he found. He wasn't inspecting every piece of scrap paper, or going through even the most minuscule bits of trash. Annabeth must've wasted at least an hour of thinking where every object came from, and if she could somehow take everything that had survived her father's fury.
Meanwhile, he had been picking up each item of clothing, folding it carefully, and gently placing it into the box. He was methodical, robot, and stiff the entire time, but he got something done. Every once in awhile, he'd cough loudly and hold up an article of clothing that looked small, or ripped, or too worn out. Annabeth was actually surprised by his eye for detail. Almost everything Percy held up for inspection, she asked that he put them back into the drawers of her dresser (not that she'd be coming back for them).
They hit a rough snag during undergarments (his face looked sunburnt), but eventually they got into a rhythm where he would keep her on track and she would fret over small things. They separated a few half-torn, but fixable sketches into a 'maybe' pile, and she desperately hoped they could fit them all into a box or two.
Finally, when they were nearly packed and ready, Annabeth heard the telltale noise of the door lock disengaging downstairs. Her blood froze in her veins, and she must've turned as white as Percy's grip when they had first started. She checked her alarm clock, but found it unplugged and uselessly shattered in the far corner of her room. Percy saw this, and held his wrist out to her. She shook her head out of fear. No one was supposed to be home this early. They had two hours at the very least.
But now every possible scenario played out inside of her head. Every potential problem that had kept her up the night before, and had left her in the car, unmoving. Her father could've gotten home from classes early, deciding to eat the numerous takeout boxes that Annabeth guessed filled the fridge. It could be her stepmother, back from grocery shopping or grabbing her keys (she was always so forgetful).
Whatever the reasoning, Annabeth shifted uncomfortably in fear. Her foot took one inch too far backwards, and Annabeth's foot caught on the 'maybe' pile. Papers shot out from under her and she lost her balance, falling forwards. Percy's reaction was completely on point with what Annabeth needed. He stepped forward, catching her forearms and steadying her onto her feet. The silence following the noise was deafening in itself.
Percy himself shot Annabeth an alarmingly calm gaze, gesturing her to remain quiet and stay silent. They both stood, backs straighter than a sign. They waited, hauntingly slow, for a possible noise that informed them they hadn't been caught.
Silence.
Deadly. Silence.
A creaking in the kitchen. Someone had just put too much weight on the hardwood plank right below the stairs leading upstairs. Annabeth took in a sharp breath as the foot falls began to approach faster up the stairs. Percy gripped her hand and subtly put himself in front of her. She saw something dark in his eyes. Something as deep as the ocean reflecting into his eyes. Normally, Annabeth didn't shrink away from a situation. But at the moment, with her hands around her more visible baby bump, she had two lives on the line. (Three, if she counted Percy.)
The footsteps stopped. Annabeth felt like someone was just outside the door.
One knock. Two. Three. She blinked, because her parents didn't knock.
Regardless of her hearing the knock or not, the knob was turned and the door opened, slowly. Percy still stood in front of her, but now Annabeth side stepped until she was at his side as well. "Annie? Is that you?"
Matthew's head poked into the room, and her eleven year old brother immediately zeroed in on his older sister in a completely demolished bedroom. He threw the door open, a wide grin overtaking his face. "Annie!" He said ecstatically, rushing to her side. He only came up to her chest, and when he threw himself into a hug she gripped him tightly into her embrace. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed him.
"Hey Matt." She said, quieter than she'd meant to be. She tried not to choke up, because if she did she'd start crying and then her brother would ask what was wrong. And if he asked what was wrong, she might tell him everything. "How have you been?"
He pulled back, but now his smile was gone. He looked worried, which wasn't a look that he normally gave anyone. "How have you been? Where have you been?" He asked, then noticed the boxes. He saw the broken glass and torn sketches that covered the floor, as if for the very first time. He looked at Percy for the first time. "Who's he?"
Percy shifted uncomfortably where he stood, and Annabeth admitted that she found it funny that he looked so nervous under an eleven year old's gaze. When he coughed into his fist and bit his lip, Matthew raised an eyebrow. The sight was so comical, Annabeth giggled. Giggled. "He's a friend, Matt. I've been staying at his friend's apartment for the last few weeks." She said, kneeling down so the two of them were eye-level.
"But you're back now. You're coming back home?" He asked, child-like innocence lacing his voice. Matthew wasn't looking at Percy anymore, but Percy's gaze was fixed on her little brother. His skin had gone pale, and his fingernails were digging into the palms of his hands. Annabeth looked down, avoiding both of their gazes. How to explain? "You are coming back home, right Annabeth?"
It was unfair, seeing as how this annoying little snot-rag could suddenly be the most adorable little kid in existence. And it was Matthew, the more agreeable of the twins. She wanted to assure him that his big sister was simply cleaning up the mess she'd left her room in. That she'd been at a friend's house, laughing and smiling the days away. She wanted to let him keep that innocence she'd trapped in a bubble. The bubble she hasn't let her father pop.
She'd been so careful, keeping the boys in the dark. If she winced, she used the word period and they made her shut her mouth. If they found a bruise, Annabeth explained her clumsy 'work experiences' and made them a snack. Should she flinch under her father's hard gaze, she would tell her brothers her grades had gone down in a certain class, and he was simply disappointed. They were heavy sleepers, and Helen or her father removed them from the house before they went after Annabeth. It was a mutual rule between the abusers and the abused.
So how to explain… This?
Annabeth looked at the three and a half full boxes. Her last treasures, her last belongings. The possessions that had escaped destruction. How easy would it be, to simply put it all back? To say "Yes, I'm coming back home?" To keep her little brothers, a small light in her life, from flickering out?
Too hard, it seemed.
Annabeth felt every fist connect with her flesh. She imagined every bruise as if it were still there. There were very few places on her body that hadn't been black or blue at one point in her life. She felt the burning sensation of pulled hair, the hot tears escaping after each slap. She imagined the starving nights and painful mornings afterwards. She imagined the marks, the nail scrapes, the slander, the vulgar insults, and no.
She looked to her window. She looked towards the cushions and the books that had been torn there. She closed her eyes, because if she looked too hard she might see her cowardice returning. She had to make a stand, and do what was right for herself. Matthew and Bobby would be more than okay. They were her father's pride and joy. This was their home, not hers.
"Where's Bobby?" Annabeth asked, trying to buy herself some time. Percy stood off to the side, head down. He hadn't said a word since Matthew had come in. He hadn't said a word since she'd stepped away, in fact. But he was obviously watching her brother, cautiously observing.
"He's at football practice with his friends. Are you staying or not?" He asked, sounding more distressed than before. Annabeth bit her bottom lip, feeling more nauseous by the second as she kept eye contact with her younger brother. His eyes search hers, and when they found her answer they began to glisten with tears. "You aren't, are you?" He said. Annabeth grabbed onto his forearms, dragging him into a hug. She held him close to her, his head tucked under her chin.
"I can't stay here anymore, Matt. I can't." Annabeth said, trying desperately to make him understand. She'd kept everything hidden from her younger brothers. They hadn't so much as caught a glimpse of her face when it sported a bruise. Matthew clung tightly to her, and a deep sense of sorrow began to seed its way into her heart.
"It's because of mom and dad, isn't it?" He whispered. Percy grabbed onto the edge of Annabeth's nightstand, his knuckles white. It looked like he might try and tear the wood in half. Annabeth pretended she didn't notice the way his eyes darkened past suppressed heat. He looked like smoke, and if he got any more oxygen he'd burst into flames. "It's because they yell at you all the time?"
Annabeth kept her bottom lip hostage, afraid of what truth might come out if she let it go. She simply held him tighter, nodding her head. She supposed that although he couldn't see her, he understood. Her brothers always understood what she meant. If Annabeth could've bottled up any moment, it would've been this one. The moment her brother understood that she needed to leave as soon as possible.
When Matt pulled away, they were both sniffling and wiping their eyes in an attempt to quell the tears. Annabeth didn't know why Matthew hid them, but she knew why she did. She'd cried too often in this room. She'd been crying too much for a seventeen year old. And, although she didn't know why, she appreciated that he held back his tears. If he'd started crying, Annabeth would've started unpacking as soon as possible.
"H-how much are you taking?" Matt asked, looking around the room. Annabeth couldn't give an answer, but after a long look from Matthew he seemed to piece it together. Whatever wasn't destroyed, and could be carried, was leaving. His eyes settled on the boxes and the disorganized 'maybe' pile. Without so much as a word from Annabeth, Matt began to pack her things away with them.
Percy excused himself from the room, saying something about toiletries, and Annabeth saw through the excuse to leave. Her eyes narrowed, though, when she caught his gaze and he shied away from her prying eyes. She imagined that he wasn't just getting 'toiletries' for her.
Her and her brother worked in silence for a long while, without so much as a word in between. No passing glances when Annabeth looked his way, and no smile she'd grown accustomed to seeing. Instead, long after Percy took her things back to his car and vacuumed her room (she would never leave such a mess), Matthew never, not once, met her eye.
…
The drive back to Juniper's was harder than Annabeth had imagined it would be. She fought back tears for the first twenty minutes of the drive, furiously sniffling and wiping at her eyes. Her legs were tucked up onto the seat, and she'd removed her shoes to feel a little less suffocated. She pressed her cheek into the window, feel the coolness of the glass leech into her skin.
Percy had offered her tissues from the glovebox, to which she hadn't even muttered a thank you. Instead, she clutched it to her chest with one hand and wrapped her free arm around her stomach until the tears subsided and the numbness took hold of her.
She'd sat in her corner for the last time, watching as Percy had vacuumed. No eyes meeting, no words exchanged, but the loudest sucking noises she'd ever heard in existence preventing her from thinking straight. She'd watched as Matthew had stepped out of the room, eyes narrowed at Percy as he'd left. She'd felt her heart being tugged away from her, and it left a physical pain in her chest.
She fixed her gaze on the passing cars. They weren't exactly going fast, but even this wasn't a crawl when they approached the bridge. Everything felt like it was moving through syrup, and the word outside lost its shades of color. The world was becoming grey around her, and sounds began to fade away.
They were on the bridge, in the far right lane. If she stood up on her knees and angled her head a little, she could see the water below. It was probably nice today. The water would be warm… It looked tempting. And they were going slow enough that she could get out. She'd just lean against the railing for a minute… and if she fell, the water would catch her.
Percy's hand was like a shot of Espresso. A bungee cord that was tugging onto the small of her back, and she'd just hit the end of the line. She snapped back into reality, and the world regained its color. "Hey, talk to me. Are you okay?" He said, immediately taking his hand off of hers. There was something different when he moved away first, and it set Annabeth on edge a little.
"I'm fine." She muttered, clearing her throat directly afterwards. She hadn't realized how parched her throat had gotten, nor how far they had moved. They were off the bridge, moving West. A mixture of buildings of all colors surrounded the car, though traffic had decreased significantly. The bright blues of the sky joined in with the tan bricks around them, accenting the colored buildings better.
"Are you sure?" Percy asked, entirely unconvinced. She could hear the concern presenting itself in his voice, and she wasn't sure why the emotions she felt at the statement were so bipolar. Annabeth hated him right now. It had only been three days, but it was like he'd rejected her. Sure, she understood he had a troubled past (obviously, hers was equal in weight), but that didn't excuse the flat out denial she'd received.
Then, on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, Annabeth felt overcome with emotion that he actually cared. He knew what she was and what a waste she was and he cared about her. She wanted to redo the embrace in the bedroom, but not push away. Let him comfort her. Maybe her emotions would've sorted themselves out.
'Or maybe it was all because he wanted 'Jackson' at the end of your baby's name.'
Annabeth didn't like that thought. She pushed it aside, though she saw flaws in that evil logic. She was more afraid she might begin to believe it when she thought about it too much.
"I'll be fine." She said, retracting her previous statement and shooting Percy a sideways glance. He was alternating his gaze between her and the road, though it concerned her that he divided that time equally. Three seconds on her, three seconds on the road. A lot could happen in three seconds. "What about you?"
Percy frowned. "What about me?"
Annabeth hadn't meant so say that. She hadn't meant to further along the conversation. She blushed a little under his softer, more confused (and cute) gaze. "Nevermind. Forget I said anything." She muttered.
They went three full blocks without speaking. Annabeth nearly shoved her head in between the window and her own armpit to avoid giving away her embarrassment. The silence was tense and awkward (more so than before) and Annabeth realized she'd been the cause of most of those silences these past few days.
"You never told me you had brothers."
Annabeth didn't move. She didn't respond. She didn't breath, blink, think, and she certainly didn't speak. She just sat, stiffer than a board, while Percy drove. His question, met with silence, was haunting. At least, she imagined to him it was. After thirty seconds or so he spoke again. "I mean, I knew about your parents, but not… What're their names?"
Annabeth's nails were probably scratching into the upholstery of his really nice car. Her first breath was shaky, because she knew that even without saying their names, she'd be overtaken with emotion. She tried to force the names out quickly, hoping that her voice wouldn't crack. "Bobby and Matthew. Twins." She said, knowing he would understand. If Percy had any superpower, it would be understanding.
She thinks she might've seen him nod his head through the unclear reflection in the window, but she couldn't be sure. When he spoke again, they were nearing the street that Juniper's flower shop sat on. She could smell the pollen (and thanked her lucky stars she didn't have allergies). "Tell me a little about them."
Annabeth wanted to be selfish. She wanted to horde this information like a lioness would over a fresh kill. She felt, in this one situation, she had an upper hand. She liked that.
But the pressure in her chest was back. It pressed on everything. Her already-cramped bladder, her pounding head, her thundering heart- she needed it off of her chest. She needed to let it all free, and Percy was a tried and true candidate when it came to a listening ear. She didn't like others knowing about her, which was why when her friends moved, she didn't move from them.
But Percy Jackson had proved, time and time again, that he was the exception.
"Bobby is more sporty, I guess you could say…"
She told him everything about them. About how they were her reason for staying, some days. How she helped them with homework and they didn't know about her abuse. Percy had questioned that, but Annabeth had made it very clear: "They had no idea what was really going on."
Annabeth had made sure of it.
When she was done, she didn't feel as resentful. She didn't find herself in the wrong, or even feel regretful of giving Percy even more information about her life before meeting him. He was exactly as he'd been on New Years: stone still. Quiet. Attentive. His eye contact actually made Annabeth feel more confident as she spoke, going as far as to tell Percy how they'd make her sit through a play-by-play of whatever movie her stepmother had taken them to.
They'd reached the flower shop half an hour ago, but Annabeth didn't get up and leave. She enjoyed this. She enjoyed the moments that she got to ramble, because she had nobody to do that to. Percy's eyes didn't glaze over once, and when she was done he asked almost no questions.
Finally, when Annabeth decided they needed to go inside, Percy carried every box and let Annabeth lie down when she felt dizzy (as far as he knew). And when Percy explained he needed to get home, Annabeth wasn't hesitant to place a small kiss onto his cheek.
She hid the letter Matthew had snuck into her pocket under her mattress.
…
If Annabeth had tried, she could've graduated High School wayyyy earlier. She'd finished most of her general electives by Junior year, but she'd opted to continue along with her Senior year anyways. She could gain so much more experience in elective classes and take a few minor concurrent enrollment classes (Stanford compatible, oddly enough) before she took her last steps out of the school. Besides, she could gather more money together that way.
By second semester, she'd switched all of her fourth term classes with online classes. She'd expected to use the family computer each night after her family went to bed, but Percy's generous donation of a laptop made everything easier. She had been using Juniper's HP Desktop, but couldn't feel comfortable until she could work alone.
Thus, the laptop.
Now, five days since retrieving her stuff, she sat on her bed with the laptop resting on her ever expanding bump. She was finishing Accounting online, and it was much less nausea-inducing when the room was void of wrestlers straight out of practice. Not to mention she was taking the State Final weeks in advance. She had four more classes, then she'd be done with High School.
When she'd answered the last question, and hit Submit, she felt a soft sigh of contentment echo in her small guest room. It wasn't as if the school pressure had been overbearing, but it was nice to accomplish something. It was nice, accomplishing something that would actually benefit her life, later on. She was debating between either taking a long nap or satisfying a craving (Oreos and Guacamole) when someone knocked on her door.
Grover would be at work. Juniper would be occupied downstairs in the flower shop. That left Percy. A cold feeling settled on her lower back, grazing her spine. The cool, unopened letter…
"Come in." She said, closing her laptop and setting it on her nightstand. When Percy opened the door, sticking only his head in, Annabeth frowned. His smile was both lopsided and quirky, and for some odd reason that made her stomach flutter (Baby hormones). She had a strange urge to slam him against the wall and forcibly… She was caught between kiss and punch. Mostly likely, punch.
"Hey Beth." He said, stepping further into the room. That stupid nickname was sealing his fate, and it did not involve any kissing. He held his hands behind his back as he spoke. "Watcha doing?"
Annabeth found his tone… happy. Her confusion began to build further. She patted her laptop, then made a quick decision (more to get back at him than avoid him). She quickly turned her bedside lamp off and turned away from him. "I was taking a test. Now, all I plan on taking is a nap." She said, even yawning for effect. When she heard an echoing yawn from Percy's direction, she let her lip quirk up a bit.
"I usually skip the test taking part altogether." He admitted. "I go straight to the nap part." His voice was steadily getting closer, and for some odd reason her confusion only grew bigger. So did her quirking lips.
She quickly snapped back into reality. Her grin disappeared. "What's the point of napping if you haven't done anything tiring to begin with?" She challenged angrily, ignoring the fact she could feel him sitting on the corner of her mattress. She was supposed to be angry with him.
"Practice, for when I do something that makes me want to take a nap. Besides-" he started to lie down, a bit unevenly with Annabeth. His head was to her stomach, and when Annabeth looked towards her stomach she could see him looking up at her. He was wearing the stupidest smile. "-life is tiring. You might not remember the stupidness of teachers, but I live it." He emphasized dramatically. Annabeth snorted in response, pushing a sweater-sleeved covered hand into his face.
Percy fell off the bed in a huff, immediately getting back to where he was before. Only this time, he hooked an arm around her waist. "Not nice. Be nice to me, or you don't get what I got for you."
Annabeth was unimpressed. Especially when this boy was suddenly twice as energetic as usual, and when he started asking for sympathy (the lopsided grin, however, she could get used to). She unhooked his hand and hip-checked him off of the mattress. "Keeping things from me is never a good idea. What's in your hand?" She asked, not putting much thought into that statement but to hurt. She was in a good mood before Percy came in, and those were rare enough for her as it was. But Percy- he seemed stuck between serious and fun-loving, the later hardly showing itself.
She tried to ignore the tingling feeling of his arm around her waist- just below her bump. Something about it felt different. He felt more connected to her, suddenly. She was able to look down and see a significant hump peaking through her sweater, and it was concerning, but not right now. Not in the ten-by-ten guest room. When he got back onto the bed, though, he sat across from her, back against the wall and her feet resting beside him.
Annabeth really did want to take a nap. In fact, she was now certain that Percy had five minutes of her time before she kicked him out and locked the door. He seemed unaware of the change in pace, leisurely grinning and keeping his left hand hidden from her. Annabeth quirked an eyebrow, and tried in vain to hide her building glare. She took a quick moment to compose herself, even sitting up against the bedframe. The metal and mattress squeaked in protest. "Alright, what did you get me that can't wait till after a nap?"
Percy's smile checked itself as well. No more than a small smirk and lazy posture. Annabeth did not find that endearing. At least, that's what she repeated to herself while he held out his empty hand to her. "Close your eyes. Give me your hand." He said. She raised an eyebrow in response.
"Would it kill you to say 'please'?" She asked, taunting him. She enjoyed taunting him, though it didn't happen often. Now, however, he was in a perfect position for her to make fun of him. That is, until he pouted. She was reminded of the experience in the Precinct, and how she'd thought his whining had been adora- endearing. His pouting was endearing.
"Would you please close your eyes and hold out your hand?" He rephrased, and Annabeth took pity on him. She held out her hand, making a big show of closing her eyes as she did. She could feel his smile burning through her, and she held her tongue when she wanted to make a scathing comment about it. Percy was happy right now, when he was usually either ticked off or annoyed by her attitude (at least, that's what he'd called it). He was planning something.
Percy placed something in her hand, and she would've been lying if she said that his fingers ghosting against her palm didn't send shivers down her spine. He'd done the same thing weeks ago- inspiring the same reaction. The difference now was the knowledge and experiences she'd shared with him. The ultrasound, the mall, the police station, their walk… Their date. 'You're angry, Annabeth. Focus!'
It was paper. Adding that to the list of similarities between two separate moments, she quickly pulled away from his touch. She didn't enjoy the butterflies in her stomach currently, or the feeling of not knowing what was going on. Annabeth kept her eyes closed for longer than she needed to, wondering what important information warranted this kind of excitement from Percy. What warranted this kind of treatment.
"You can open your eyes, you know." Percy said in that carefree tone. Annabeth's confusion was only growing as she opened her eyes to see his eager face. To see his bright smile and brighter eyes…
Annabeth felt her head spinning. She was angry at him. She was going to be angry at him for as long as she wanted to be. And she wanted it to be long enough until he learned… until he understood that he couldn't be justified in keeping secrets from her. That wasn't okay. So she kept her expression passive, and she ducked away from his gaze while opening the slip of paper he'd given her.
A number. Ten digits.
Annabeth wasn't quite sure what she'd been expecting, but this… She was truly off-put. She blinked a few times, checking and rechecking Percy's messy chicken scratch. Each number seemed to have been written at least three times, making the text seem bolded. Ink already appeared on her thumb when she smoothed out his 'gift'. It was a New York area code, but otherwise appeared to be completely normal.
Annabeth had to meet Percy's eyes, just to be sure this wasn't some elaborate prank of some sort. She gave him her most inquisitive look, but he didn't seem deterred. He met her gaze with that same smirk, but eyes wider than before. If anything, he seemed more excited about whatever he had given her than she did.
Silence passed by slowly. Annabeth switched her gaze between the phone number and Percy half a dozen times before he broke the silence. "Are you not going to ask who's number it is?" He said teasingly. Annabeth felt something fiery burning up in her stomach, but forced it back. Immediately, she began to mentally check off who it could be.
Perhaps his cousin, Andrew? Unlikely, but not impossible. Annabeth failed to see how that could be a gift. Mr. Brunner, the only teacher that even remotely cared? The only class they'd shared together? Annabeth wouldn't be as uncomfortable. She liked the old man.
For just a moment… One single, solitary moment… Annabeth pretended to hear her mother on the other end of a phone. The idea sent a mixed reaction, ultimately resulting in Annabeth taking in a sharp breath. She had to look into his eyes, wondering what he could give away unpurposefully. Annabeth was disappointed to see nothing but his excitement.
It couldn't be her mother, though. Her mother didn't have a phone number. She didn't have an address, a family, a picture… If Annabeth didn't latch onto the memories of late night birthday calls that ended when she turned fourteen, she didn't even have a voice. Her mother might as well have been a figment of her imagination, nothing more. No, Percy couldn't have found her mother.
Then who?
Annabeth, although both impatient with him and sharing a childlike excitement with Percy, did not ask. Instead, she pulled pulled out her phone and started to create a new contact. She quickly composed a text, hitting send and waiting for the final verdict. Percy sat smugly at the end of her bed, hands behind his head and eyes closed in what appeared to be bliss. She guessed he was feeling really good about himself right about now, and she understood that he thought she would be happy with whoever she was texting.
She saw the Read Message appear under her text, followed swiftly by the typing icon in the bottom left of the screen. Whoever it was wasn't going to make her wait. She still held her breath in anticipation.
Three words sent and her heart stopped.
Matthew and Bobby!
Annabeth felt herself gasping for air and yet breathing in something fresh all at the same time. She felt dizzy and alert all at once. Her heart might've skipped a beat not even a millisecond before, but now it could probably power a car with the amount of pure energy she was creating.
Her eyes were probably wider than plates when she read the message. In fact, she was starting to hyperventilate a little bit. She had to put her phone down onto her laptop, trying to get a grip on the anxiety that was currently overtaking her. Her arms were starting to fly outwards, as if she were gesturing to some invisible object in front of her. She felt tears starting to prick at the corners of her eyes.
Percy, to his credit, was immediately there to try and help her. He grabbed both of her wrists tightly, keeping them locked in front of her as she struggled against him. "Breathe, okay? Just focus on breathing." He said, much more calmly than he had been a moment before. He trapped both of her wrists in one of his hands, while the other came up and started wiping tears off of her face.
He'd contacted her brothers. Worse, he'd given them a phone, and a way to contact her. He would've physically had to have gone to her house, or to their school, or done something to meet with them and- and and and-
What would happen if her parents found it? What if the only contact they found was for 'Annabeth'? What if they tracked her down, and forced her back home? She wasn't eighteen yet. Legally, they were her parents. They were her guardians- they could have her sent to jail in a couple of months. All if Bobby and Matthew received a call at the dinner table, or got caught fighting over 'who gets to text her today'.
What if Bobby and Matthew give them her new address? Or demand to know who gave them the phone? What if they figure out about Percy? They'd assume the worse, of course. They'd assume drugs, or gangs, or pregnancy, or or or-
The sad situation she found herself in? She didn't know if she was involved with one or two of those scenarios.
"Calm down. Just keep breathing slowly, okay? I can call Juniper, or Andrew, or… Someone who can help, okay? We'll figure out what's wrong." He said soothingly.
Annabeth wanted to punch him. Every word added to the pressure that had slowly been building in her chest over the past few weeks. She didn't want him here. She didn't want his help. She asked for it in an extreme moment of weakness, but she didn't want it anymore. She was Annabeth Chase. She had an unopened letter from Stanford below her mattress. It had the only acceptance she'd ever need from anyone.
"Get out!" She started yelling, sitting up fast enough that Percy fell off of the bed. He scrambled back when she started yelling it louder, and began to get up and off of the bed. "Get out of my room!" She screamed.
Percy didn't leave, but he stood. He was still taller than her, and she could see that he was trying to hold back… Something. His eyes were dark when he looked her in the eye, but her anger was driving her. She didn't back down, instead standing just a foot away from him.
He raised his arms in what she assumed to be exasperation. When he started talking, his voice was both exhausted and furious, his voice dripping with malice. "I- I just don't get it. I don't get you." He said, then started rubbing between his eyes. "You've been going off on me since the Park. You obviously love your brothers, and when you had to leave I figured you'd want a way to talk to them, and now what? Do you hate them now? Do you just hate that I'm the one that got them the phone? Just- just talk to me!" He yelled.
Annabeth knew that Juniper could probably hear them from her flower shop. She knew that anyone in the adjacent apartments with ears could hear this argument, but she couldn't care less. All her rage and frustration towards this stupid boy was going to kill her if she didn't get it out of her system. "They're eleven, Percy! They argue over everything they share! They can't even keep their mouth's shut about a present they get for Christmas! What're the odds that my parents find their phone?"
"What happens when they see that you got them a phone, huh? My parents know I won't have that kind of money, and then they'll ask who gave it to them, or where I am, or-"
Percy cut her off. "I told them not to tell anyone where they got it from-"
"That's not the point!" Annabeth screeched. "What if they start hitting them, Percy?! What if my parents think that they can't trust them? What if they have to worry about getting hit every night, or getting yelled at, or hiding the bruises?!" What if they end up like me?
Percy's clenched fists began to tremble. He aggressively shoved his right hand into his pocket and ran the left one through his hair. His teeth were bared as she continued screaming, giving him every last feeling of pain that he deserved from her. Her brothers needed to be protected. She'd let them go because she knew they'd be safe if she never spoke to them again. They needed to be safe.
She needed them to be safe.
When she had screamed her throat sore, and her body trembled just standing in front of him, she put her arms around herself and began stepping backwards. Slowly, so as not to fall over, she reached the edge of her bed. She sat, still trembling, trying to figure out if the anger she felt was gone or replaced by some far, far worse. She started to sniffle, but didn't let a tear fall. "Get out." She pleaded.
Percy closed the door behind him with a soft click. When he'd left she fell back onto her bed, exhausted. She went to put her hands on her stomach, but couldn't do it. Her hands wouldn't rest on her baby bump, refusing to give her support. She didn't deserve it. Tears began to run down her face as she tried to muffle her sobs into her pillow.
Long after she'd calmed down and fallen into a guilty sleep, Percy Jackson stepped away from her door, moving to leave the apartment.
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-LHG :)
