Hey Guys! So, glad to see I'm getting some headway in this story... kinda. Look, its a start. I'm still writing, trying to figure out what I'm looking for...

Anyways, I'm putting this chapter up early because:

A) I wanted to.

B) I need your help.

I want you guys, the readers, to tell me what you like, what you don't like, etc... This isn't all about me trying to become a better writer. Its about you guys getting the best from this story, and pushing me past the barriers I've somehow set for myself. Tell me what you want me to do, how to do it... Just no Lemons. I don't write Lemons, eck. If you're into that, no offense plz. I just don't think that's cool... Anyways, PM me, leave a review, etc. Whatever you want to throw in. I always leave a shout out for those who give me ideas!

Disclaimer: I'm not Rick.

It was like fighting the ocean itself.

Normally, Percy gained strength underwater. Along with sight, hearing, and even a sense of smell. He'd never tried taste, but that could be for another day, if he survived.

Dark water was sometimes shadowed by dark skin, but Percy couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, sixty feet couldn't be far off. It was a brute, all right. Why it ventured so far from below, Percy would be okay with never finding out. Like how he couldn't even tell what it was.

Shadow might've been the best comparison. It was always either just out of his vision, or maybe right in front of him. He would wave his cutlass in a place he thought was beast, but meet no resistance of sword through flesh. He was fighting smoke.

Percy, however, was not totally without aim.

It was always when the beast attacked that Percy could score a hit. When he'd feel that instinct to dive or resurface, and stab his sword in a random direction. He made three hits, and had to cup his ears each time the beast roared in anger. Blood surrounded Percy like a cloud, hiding him from sight.

Sadly, Percy knew he could not win.

The beast was too big. Its hide was too thick. The creature was tiring him out, and now death would be the next thing to befall him.

At least Annabeth made it to shore, he thought. He'd felt the skiff grate sand. He knew it was on land. One death. One death from the Athena that isn't blood on my hands.

The beast charged again, though Percy didn't see as was usual. This time, he pushed himself left, his sword arm trailing behind him.

The creature caught him.

Percy screamed in agony when he felt his leg burst into a new degree of pain he'd never felt before. It was like a thousand needles jabbing into every nerve on his exposed flesh below his waist. This time, it was his blood that stained the ocean around him, not the beast's. Percy was dragged like a ragdoll, being tugged along by the impaled section of his leg.

Percy took no time wasted, stabbing his sword so fast and hard into the maw of whatever the heck it was. When his sword gained purchase below his leg, he viciously swirled the sword as he would a knife to dig out a musket ball.

He was suddenly drifting, his leg coming free. Even so, as the beast screamed, he could sense the smugness. It could feel his despair. Worse still, his sword arm was empty. His precious blade was gone, and now he had nothing to defend himself with. His body felt paralyzed.

The beast was circling below him, savoring his victory. Percy could feel his eyes closing. This is it…

"Percy."

His eyes shot open faster than a dying boy should be able to because no, that couldn't be her, could it? Surely this was a pre-death hallucination? Could she be greeting him at the doors of death?

"Ma?" He whispered, looking around because yes he's sure it's her. No doubt in his mind. Was it just him, or was the water above him glowing white.

"My sweet little soldier." The voice said, relieved. He could hear the smile in her voice. He could see it in his mind, replayed a million times over. Nothing, no treasure or jewel compared to that smile. Percy gulped, yearning to see it again.

Whatever spirit churned around him seemed to sense his wanting. "I know, I know. But not yet. Not yet, Percy. You need to get back up there and fight."

His posture immediately slumped under an invisible weight. His eyes would be wet if he wasn't already surrounded by salt water. "I'm useless, mother. If I can't save you-"

"Perseus Jackson, hold your tongue. Your mother is speaking to you. You are NOT to blame. Luke killed the crew of the Athena, not you."

Percy smiled at the sass, knowing this was his mother, well and truly. And for once he could actually hear his mother tell him he was not to blame and that hit him hard because he couldn't see blaming anyone else.

"She needs you, Percy. Just like I did. What I need you to do is of the utmost importance, do you hear me? For her benefit, and for yours."

Percy gulped. "But she doesn't need me, mother. She has a chance at-"

"Pirating isn't what I'm talking about, Perseus. You know that isn't a life. That's a hollow career. A dead end. She needs YOU."

Percy frowned, and there was jumbled vibration under the water. He was pretty sure it sounded like a sigh. "I truly taught you less about this than I should have. Perseus, you will forge that path in time on your own. What I really need is to tell you about your father."

His leg was numb, the creature was growing antsy, and Percy couldn't care less. His father had just been invoked. "What about him?"

"He has a job for you. An item you must find for yourself. One with enough power to stop Luke before he controls the seas."

Percy noticed she'd conveniently left out the facts about where it might be and why Luke might have power over the ocean. Instead, he jumped straight to his first, impulsive thought. "No. Not for him. Nothing for him." He said. If his all-powerful father needed his help, he could kiss his sails. He won't help him.

"Perseus, it's not for him. It's for you. He's watching over you. You must embrace the part of you that is him. When you do, you will fulfill Annabeth's promise one hundred times over."

He was going to rebut, but wavered at the mention of of his promise to Annabeth. Whatever ghostly presence surrounding him sensed this. "It will fulfill her promise, and maybe you'll find yourself at peace as well."

Percy was quiet for a moment longer. The beast was still below him, but seemed uninterested in whatever aura now surrounded him. It was aggravated, though. Thirsty for blood…

"What do I need to do?" He whispered quietly.

He could imagine the smile still on his mother's face. "That, I cannot tell you. I can only set you on your path. Continue to the Colonies, as Annabeth directed. Look for an old friend; he will be expecting you."

Percy nodded to himself, or maybe with his mother. Perhaps this was a hallucination due to blood loss, but Percy wasn't so quick to rule out supernatural forces. After all, he was one.

"Goodbye Percy. This isn't the last time you'll see me… Just don't be quick to visit, aye?"

"Wait!" Panic seized his heart. So many things he wanted to say. So much he couldn't express into words.

She understood. She always did. "Be safe, Percy. I love you…"

The moon above twinkled out until the ocean was shone grey again. Percy wanted to cry, knowing that she was safe.

Wherever she was, Sally Jackson was safe.

But Percy still wasn't.

The beast had new prey. Far above Percy's head, a skiff was starting to appear. A black shadow on a grey background.

Annabeth. ANNABETH.

The predator was moving towards the skiff slowly, as if expecting another blunderbuss incident. And maybe he had a right to fear that skiff, but Percy knew the truth. He knew the truth, but he couldn't believe it.

Without Percy, Annabeth was blind. She wouldn't see an attack coming until it was too late. She be swallowed, crushed, impaled… And she knew that. Why would she ever do something so stupid?

Percy's new anger filled his legs. He wasn't nearly as strong a swimmer as the beast, but he summoned power from the ocean around him. His leg throbbed less as the currents themselves shifted to push him up…

… and force the beast back into the abyss.

Just before it made contact (and Percy means that in a completely literal sense), Percy registered the tugging in his gut. He shot his hand forward and gripped the water into a fist, yanking it back.

The beast was torn off course. Even its emended strength was nothing against the ocean around him. Percy was the ocean. He was in charge, not whatever this thing was. He swore up and down that Annabeth would stay safe as long as he had something to say about it. This was one of those times.

"Leave. Us. Alone!"

He yelled in defiance, tossing his hand up towards the surface, and the water complied. The creature was shot like a cannonball from the ocean, leaving a trail of bubbles to follow lethargically afterwards. When it left the ocean, he didn't stay to watch it hit the water again. Instead, he shot himself upwards.

As he left the ocean, he physically felt all the energy leave his body. His aim had been true, however, seeing as he landed face first into the deck of the skiff. Painful, yes, but nowhere near the torture he felt in his leg. Had there been a nest of fire ants out on the sea?

"Good lord!" Annabeth said, and Percy couldn't help but roll his eyes. That was a long ten minutes. "Percy, what-?"

"Later." His voice was strained and raw, his stomach wishing to remove any contents it might have at the moment. "Why-?"

He felt himself steadied and two arms locked around his stomach in a death grip. It took him a moment to register that the pain in his leg was still there, and that Annabeth Chase, goddess, captain, and employer, was currently hugging him fiercely. He oddly felt salt water coming from somewhere, giving him a strange feeling. Then he realized Annabeth was crying.

"I- I thought you were dead, a-and… I…" Her grip tightened the slightest bit. Her face remainder buried deep in his chest, and certainly she understood that his heart was going to leap from his chest at any moment. "I've been alone for far too long. Please… Don't leave."

Percy wanted to speak. Really, he did. However, his throat was not so forgiving. For someone who spent a good ten minutes under water, he was parched. When he opened his mouth, a strangled and cracking whimper left him instead. He wrapped his arms around her quivering form instead.

There was something special about holding someone like this, Percy knew. His mother was a prime example of giving affection and love in terrible situations. That wasn't to say that was the scenario at the moment, per say; what he really felt was a surge of devotion towards this girl.

This girl. The one who he'd robbed, lead into a deathtrap, rescued from said deathtrap, kissed, been tied to a mast by, sailed through a storm with and fought a shadow under the sea for. He might've tightened his own embrace on her.

When they did break away, Percy realized that his leg wasn't hurting anymore. Looking towards the wound, his eyes widened.

Because the wound was gone. Sealed. Completely and utterly healed. The only sign that he hadn't been dreaming was the missing part of his breeches and coat, and the eight inch tooth sitting beside his leg.

He cast a wary glance at the ocean, sighing. His mother's words replayed in his own mind over and over again.

Father, why come to me now?

"First question…"

"Hurry it up, Miss Chase. I'd hate to lose track of my bearings out here."

She rolled her eyes, her expression deep in thought as she took her time to think her question through. That was okay with Percy. The ocean around them was calm, and the sky a beautiful canvas of blue and white. Really, it felt like a day to jump into the lagoon back home and take a moment to forget about the taxes they owed and work they had to make up for later.

Naturally, Percy would've been content on the island by the reef, seeing it's crystal clear blue sea and white sand it had to offer, but Annabeth was anxious to leave after repairing the breach in the hull. He'd chosen to leave early instead, seeing her uneasy. Now, to pass the time, they were getting to know one another better. Question by question.

There was only one rule: completely honest answers, and if whatever you asked you had to be equally responsible to give your own answer.

"First impression of meeting me."

Percy frowned. "Which time? Me robbing you, or me rescuing you?"

She scoffed. "Hardly a successful rescue. I had a musket wound, if you recall."

He kept a steady rowing rhythm, freshly rested from the two nights they had spent on the island. Truly, he had needed the rest. His aching muscles felt loose, and his mind clear.

"You were bold. Brave. I had no idea when I boarded your ship the crew were all women. Let alone captained by one." He said. She didn't seem satisfied, though, so he continued. "I figured you were intimidating, as well. A mite scarier than the women from where I lived."

She remained expressionless as she commented. "Only a mite? I must've been going easy on you." He raised an eyebrow, then she rolled her eyes. "Oh, all right. My first impression of you… When you robbed me, mind you… Was that I was scared. All I could see was your eyes, and with the pistol pointed at me… I hadn't been at someone's mercy like that in a long time."

Percy frowned, but chose not to question her further on the subject. She looked a tad reluctant answering this question herself. He asked his own question instead: "how do you know Luke? He seemed… eager. When he caught you, I mean."

Annabeth paused for a moment, coughing lightly into her palm. Her answer was rushed, embarrassed. "I was betrothed to him."

Percy's rowing faltered for a second, looking her in the eye before realizing she was serious. "When was this?"

She avoided his gaze, but answered nonetheless. "He had just been granted the rank of captain at nineteen, which was a feat in itself. He took a fancy to me when my father brought me over from London, and asked for my hand. I was only twelve at the time…"

Percy stopped her, noticing that her cheeks were flushing. "You were twelve. Betrothed at twelve?" He asked, astonished. "No wonder you ran. How soon after…?"

"It was one month after, actually. I met Thalia, who was a local, and we both had nothing left at home. We stole my father's skiff and set out for an adventure." She finished.

Percy couldn't even fathom the idea of running away from home at that age. Twelve… He was just beginning to learn how to heal others. Just starting to follow in his mother's footsteps. And marriage? The farthest thing from his mind. Proper courting would've started at fifteen, maybe, had he stayed on the isle…

"And you?" Annabeth asked, snapping him out of his day dreaming.

"What?" He asked. She rolled her eyes, but did not seem surprised by his lapse in attention.

"Luke. How do you know him?"

Of course. He needed to answer.

"That's… That's a long story." Percy admitted, looking out towards the sea and avoiding her gaze. "One that I'd only feel comfortable talking about on land. And with a keg of rum on hand." He said.

Annabeth shook her head. "The rule, Percy. Give me a simplified version."

Percy shook his own head. "There's no simplifying it. Really, I'll tell you… Just not out here. It's a beautiful day, and I want to keep it that way." He kept rowing, avoiding Annabeth's gaze and listening to the water as it trickled off the paddle and back into the ocean.

"Where did you live? Before pirating, I mean." Annabeth clarified. Percy sighed, this he could answer.

"There was this little Spanish settlement in the chain of islands I first met you. It didn't have a name, or even a dock, really, but it was meant as a place for royalty to live in." Percy shrugged, trying to remember more about it. "No one wanted to live there when they realized what a horrible place it was to live in. Too many storms, not enough sunlight… They abandoned it.

"A few English tradesmen settled down there, and a few generations later I was born." He said.

"What… What were the buildings like?"

Percy raised an eyebrow, but tried to answer best he could. "We had a big courtyard we used for a market. Pillars topped with stucco roofs… Red. It shines red during the day. I swear, it was the most beautiful place on this green Earth."

When he cast a glance at his captain, she had her eyes closed, as if visualizing his home. Percy cocked his head to the side because something about the worry lines disappearing and soft smile on her lips stirred his gut…

"I lived in the English countryside," she started. "It was just me and ma, living on a farm. Really, she never even married my father, but he had escorted her around London when he was a young noble." She explained. "Every morning, ma would milk and I'd carry the pails into the milk house… We kept roosters and hens, and every once in awhile the neighbors would help me hunt eggs." She said.

"We had a small home, and a barn beside it. Mother had an eye for detail, always looking for ways to make home better than it was. She would sew my dresses, and sometimes she'd take me into town. She could rival you in haggling, but never would've been caught dead flirting with any of the stall owners." She finished, a wistful smile still on her face.

"Sounds beautiful." Percy whispered, almost to himself. Annabeth must've heard, because her head ducked at the same time her cheeks began to redden. "Mother's had a way of making us feel at home, aye?" He said, heaving a bit more.

"Aye, I suppose we have that in common." Annabeth repeated, meeting his gaze.

There was moment when all that could be heard was the ocean itself as he matched her gaze. A moment that Percy had to end with a slight cough, like the one she'd given. Perhaps it was something going around.

"What was she like? Your mother." Percy clarified. His nostalgia was beginning to settle in again, and Annabeth had this smile in her eyes every time she mentioned it. That, if anything, was something he could relate to.

But now, the smile she had on before disappeared. She sounded uncertain and shy when she spoke, which was… Unexpected. "She… She was amazing, really. The problem is that there isn't anything to tell. She was a Miller's daughter who sold cloths-"

"Not what she did for a living, Annabeth. What was she like?" He asked.

Still, she struggled to find the right words. Percy didn't even notice they were drifting until the boat began to rock gently from side to side. "She was kind. Loving. Better than my father could ever aspire to be." She decided, tossing in a spiteful comment toward her father for good measure.

Percy had the sneakiness of suspicions about her father. Just the way she spoke about him… And even what she didn't say… Spoke volumes.

Annabeth made a face when seeing his thoughtful expression. "Something wrong, Percy?"

He shook his head to clear it. Thinking about Annabeth Chase was like trying to barter with a stubborn stall owner. Only this time, he couldn't steal an answer. "I… Nothing. Nothing wrong." He coughed again unconvincingly. "My mother was the same."

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