Guys, I would like to take to light what one of my reviewers has brought to light.

I did not write Annabeth as a feminist captain.

There was so much stuff about her being a feminist... I didn't want to write her like that. I'm writing her in a way that reflects her current mental state: Fragile. She's just lost her family, she doesn't know how her mother is doing back in England, or if she's even alive. She blames herself for the death of her crew, she blames herself for everything she's lost. I'm not going to keep her frail and fragile, and she's going to develop to be the confident, witty Annabeth Chase we all know and love. I chose not to write her as a feminist because she is above thinking all men are evil, as Percy is supposed to keep proving as the story progresses.

Please, have patience with this story. I'm trying to make it unique, and I didn't want to envision Annabeth as a feminist, just like how I didn't want Percy to be the perfect pirate or have a good relationship with his real dad. She's going to start being more independent soon, I swear. Just wait until the next chapter, plz.

Disclaimer: I'm not Rick.

"Where in blazes did this come from?"

Annabeth was poised attentively at the bow, looking out at the fog that had surrounded them. She'd initially seen the wisps a long while ago, but chose not to wake her sleeping companion. Hearing his voice might've startled her before, but now it was an integrated part of her new life. The one where he could be there, till she said otherwise.

She had lit the lantern the moment the wall of grey had swallowed them whole, knowing that if Percy had done so she would've scolded him. It did nearly nothing, and looking behind her she wasn't surprised all she could make out of Percy was his silhouette. Barely five feet, she thought.

"We entered about an hour ago." She said, turning to sit facing him. "Now I'm waiting for us to leave it." She said, still pouring over an array of charts and navigation equipment (all useless in the fog). She understood Percy had perfect bearings at sea, but… She couldn't be completely dependent on that. A chart and a compass any day would suffice.

Percy stood carefully, rocking the boat slightly as he did. When he had reached full height, he turned in a full circle, looking for who knows what? There were certain habits sailors get after a long career at sea. Annabeth would develop an itch on her right calf after a full twenty four hour period on the open ocean, and she'd noticed Percy enjoyed just looking at the open sea around. She supposed it was his element, after all.

When he spoke, she could hear the frown in his voice. "I can't see."

She rolled her eyes. "Quite the deduction, sailor."

"Oh, shut it." He said, sitting back down. He'd long taken off his torn coat, choosing instead to use it as a pillow. Annabeth had noticed his anger at the torn coat on the island, and he had commented that it had been his father's.

Which confused her more, of course, about her first mate's lineage.

She realized she's been staring at his still form and looked away, blushing like a girl. Something about this boy left her giddy and confused and really, he was such a bother sometimes, so why was it she was annoyed she couldn't see him as clearly as she would like?

"How long have you been up?" He asked. He sat up again when she didn't speak, the guilty silence building. "How long was I asleep?"

"Sun set about an hour ago." Annabeth admitted, stowing her chart and compass. "I wasn't too tired, so I assumed you wouldn't mind another few hours of rest."

Percy shook his head, tossing his coat towards her. She caught the heavy leather with ease, feeling the warm material against her cold skin. "Take a rest, Annabeth. I'd rather be awake and rowing than sleeping on the ocean any time of day."

"It's nighttime." She said bluntly.

"Don't get smart with me." He warned. He began to adjust the sail slightly to the left, trying to get a breeze to enter the fabric. "Sleep. I'll actually wake you when I'm supposed to." He teased.

Annabeth chose to let him win, she swears. Not because her eyelids began to fall, or because she couldn't think of a better line. She crushed the coat into a ball, taking off her hat and setting it off to the side. When she rested her head against it, smelling the lingering scent of saltwater (as if it wasn't all around her) she hummed in satisfaction before listening to the sail filling with wind.

…

She heard him curse first.

She wasn't quite awake yet, so she dismissed the subconscious intrusion and whatever dream she might've been having continued. The realm of sleep felt more appealing at the moment, much more so than waking after what felt like minutes of rest.

When he cursed again, however, she shifted. She rolled her still closed eyes, trying to go back to sleep.

Then she was doused.

She sat up, sputtering and let out a few choice words that would've made Thalia blush. As she propped herself up on her elbows, her angry gaze turned on her first mate.

It was hard to see him, the way the wind was blowing in her face, and the mist was still very much in the way. The only indication that they were on the ocean was the sea lapping onto her face.

Percy was holding onto the rope to the sail in one hand, and in the other he was clutching onto the ship's siding. His face was in a scowl, and his shirt was as doused as she was. He appeared to be struggling to remain upright. As Annabeth stood, she noticed why.

"You idiot! Why are we sideways to the waves?" She said, pulling at one of the oars that was barely hanging onto the boat. She'd have to paddle them out of this mess if she wanted to get this water out of the boat anytime soon. She pulled at the oar and-

And it was broken. Halfway up the shaft the wood had splintered, and the paddle of the oar was nowhere to be found. Annabeth looked towards the other oar and found it in the same predicament. Both of the oars were broken.

"We're in some sort of reef." Percy explained, the wind and crashing of water trying to drown out his words. He kept his grip on the side of the boat, his knuckles white against the wood. Water lapped up his arm as if got onboard. "We sailed into it a moment ago, and I'm trying really hard to focus, so please don't hinder me." He requested through gritted teeth.

Annabeth felt helpless. She'd never navigated a skiff through a reef, and now she was being splashed and covered head to toe in water. The mist was relentless, making it impossible to see even five feet in each direction.

Annabeth turned back to Percy, about to ask him what to do. But she realized that maybe wasn't the best course of action, seeing as he was concentrating so hard on the task at hand. She could vaguely see now that his eyes were shut tight, and sweat gathered on his forehead. He was going by power alone, trying to keep them from being bashed against whatever maze they were in.

But still his power was not enough. She could see his mind slipping, and she felt the first collision jar her to the bone. She sat down hard on the bench.

Why am I so USELESS?! She thought angrily. Here she was, sitting and doing nothing while Percy did all the work. What kind of captain was she? How could she ever be better when Percy had those powers?

Another collision. Annabeth didn't bother standing back up.

Why should she?

"Annabeth, what wins a fight?"

Her mother's voice slowed the world around her. It always did, especially when a memory surfaced.

She was seven, and that big ugly brute down the street had ambushed her again, taking that hard earned shilling Annabeth always made when helping their neighbor, Terry Minus, sort out his stock rooms for the coming winter.

Annabeth's mother, the ever so vigilant woman she was, had noticed the tear stains that Annabeth had been so keen to hide.

Annabeth had been confused. Was her mother saying that she should fight? Why say that word at all? He was bigger and older. Of course he would win.

"Bigger kids." She pouted, looking at her feet. Her mother had leaned eye level to her daughter, lifting her chin with two fingers.

"No, honey. Not 'who'. Bigger kids don't win fights. You could beat them if you wanted to." She said. She'd picked up her little curious child, sitting her down on her lap. "They might look tough, sweetie, but they don't know how else to act. That's why I'm going to tell you the secret to winning. Not just against them, but against everything else, too."

Little Annabeth had been intrigued, wondering what could such a weapon possibly be called. What magic did it conjure, to beat kids twice her size? "What is it?"

She'd smiled, tapping a finger to Annabeth's temple. "Your own head, Annabeth. If you put enough thought into the problem, I bet you can find the solution yourself."

Annabeth had used those words like a bible verse, and never again did that boy, Dylan, ever take her shilling again.

Annabeth had the mind that, when set to solve a problem, never stopped. She could be that person again.

Fear had been keeping her grounded into her seven year old self, telling her that she had no other choice. Annabeth knew that was a lie. She was Annabeth Chase, Pirate Captain of the seven seas. She was Annabeth Chase, scourge of the king's navy. She was Annabeth Chase, daughter to a loving mother who made her proud to be herself.

The world around her returned to color and her senses sharpened. She took a deep breath. Think.

Her hands worked in complete synchronization with her head, taking the two wooden shafts of broken oars. She knew the sturdiness was sound, and the length was perfect for what she had in mind. She pulled out her oil lantern and lit the wick with care. A dull glow covered the mist in golden light. The light gave her comfort in the dark.

She sat back at the front, her arms free and legs hooked under the nearest rowing bench. Each hand held an oar shaft.

She closed her eyes, mimicking Percy for a moment. Please, help me. She thought to anyone who would listen.

With the dull glow, and her own experience at sea, she reached out with her sense of hearing. Water rushed past, trying to slow them and keep the in the maze. But Annabeth could get them through.

Her right ear pricked, and her right arm responded.

The resistance against her arm sent a thrill down her spine, and the noise of wood on wet rock was a reward in itself. She used all the strength she had to push the skiff away from the rock.

She didn't have time to celebrate though, seeing as there was more work to be done. The next few minutes were of complete concentration and skill as she helped maneuver the skiff out of the reef maze. Her own hands were starting to tremble in the dark, and sweat gathered on her brow. Cold ocean water left a salty taste on her lips when she was splashed a dozen or so times.

Still, she stayed firm at the head, keeping her ears pricked for danger.

When the rough water around her began to give way to gentle waves, she dropped the oars and her own tired form into the rowing bench. Her weary grin was ear to ear, and her breath left her body in short pants. "Beat that, Jackson." She whispered.

The boy in question gave no answer, but his breath sounded nearly as ragged. Then, ever so carefully, she craned her neck from where she lay to get a look at him.

He was already already staring back, his chest rising and falling in a way that made Annabeth's stomach turn for some odd reason. She felt something burning in her chest, and sat up, dragging herself closer to him.

She made it to his side, and her eyes never left his. She searched his expression, looking for that scoundrel that had boarded the Athena some odd month ago. She only saw the boy who wanted to practice medicine.

His shirt was horribly wrinkled, to which her mother and father would've wrinkled their noses at. His hair was a slick mess, and a fuzzy black wad of fur was sprouting on his cheeks and on his chin. His hand still clutched the siding for leverage, as if to give him strength. For what, she wanted to guess it was because of her.

She didn't utter a word, though she expected he still heard what she wanted him to. Gently and carefully, she laid her head down against his chest with her ear to his heart. The rhythmic bump-bump stayed undeterred, and the sound was soothing to Annabeth.

She had never shared a living space or bed with anyone besides Thalia, but that was a younger, simpler and innocent time. Her cabin in the ship had been cozy, and Annabeth had done her best to make it a home, but it lacked comfort. Now here she was, on a ten foot skiff with this idiot, and she found herself wanting to get closer than she'd ever had.

She shifted closer, her shirt slipping a bit off of her shoulder. It wasn't until she was nearly curled completely into him that he responded in kind. His left hand barely moved under her, but he adjusted her sleeve ever so slightly, so that it covered her shoulder more effectively. Then, as if he were a boy that had taken a fancy to her, he gently and hesitantly placed said hand in between her shoulder blades.

The warmth of his hand and chest made her sigh lightly, a puff of air that sent a curl or two jumping. His other hand relaxed, wrapping around until it had found a spot on her lower back as well. She was now completely trapped in this boy's embrace.

For some odd reason, she felt comfortable there, as if she fit. She was completely at peace.

"Wait, what did you say?" He whispered.

She rolled her eyes, though she didn't mind so much for his idiocy, seeing as she was hiding a grin in his shirt.

LHG :)