When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching –

they are your family.

~Jim Butcher

Chapter Fourteen Second Chances and Blue Potatoes

Annabeth sat on the in the small café's booth, her ankles crossed behind one another. Thalia had to leave to get back to her apartment because she had a date later that night so she had left Annabeth alone in the freezing cold wind in Central Park. She had found a small café where she had instantly hurried to in hopes of getting out of the wind.

She reached into the satchel which was on the seat next to her and pulled out her notebook. It was a simple notebook with the words: Hello Sunshine in green bold letters. But she had scrawled many quotes on the front and the back with a Sharpie. Some people liked to doodle all over their notebooks, Annabeth covered them with words.

Flipping open her notebook, she found the page where she had left off on the story with Hannah and Birch. She grabbed her pen from her bag and uncapped the pen. With her peppermint mocha at her elbow, she put her pen to the paper and continued on in her story:

Hannah nervously tugged at the mask that covered her face. What was the point of a masquerade dance at the school? Honestly. It was stupid. Jake had promised that he would meet her here but with all the faceless people in the crowd she was having a hard time telling who he was.

It was almost terrifying when you saw the masks. She realized just how little she knew everyone, she couldn't tell who they were by their laugh, or their eyes, or the way they spoke. Everyone was a mystery to her. It made her realize that maybe no one knew who she was behind her silver mask.

Her mom had went all out with her dress. It was her last Prom after all… and probably her last dance in general. Her mom never said that, but Hannah knew she was thinking it. Her visits to Dr. Tanner's weren't all that bad, thanks to the upbeat way Dr. Tanner acted, but Hannah knew she wasn't getting any better. She really didn't want to be here, but her mom pressured her into it so here she was, standing nervously to the side, tugging at the dark purple dress. It was funny, usually she would be asked to dance every dance but now that no one knew it was her… well they just seemed to think of her as a loner.

Masks did that to you.

"Do you want to dance?" Hannah whirled around with the grace of a ballerina from all those dance classes when she was younger.

A boy with a jet black mask was standing in front of her, his face also shadowed by the horrid lighting job that was done in the gym. He had the deepest brown eyes that Hannah had ever seen. They were warm and inviting. He smiled at her, his hair tousled and messed up as if he didn't care about it, but Hannah knew that he had probably spent at least half an hour trying to get the perfect "tousled" look.

"Huh?" Hannah asked, great job Hannah, way to make a brilliant first impression,she thought dully to herself.

"Do you wanna dance? It must be pretty lonely just standing over here in the corner," he said, smirking at her.

"You have no idea," Hannah muttered…

Annabeth paused. It was the moment she had been most excited for, but she was almost nervous to write it. When you got to the big parts in the story, it was hard to actually write them. You had waited so long for them that writing them down almost seems…wrong.

Annabeth sighed and reached into her bag for her i-pod. She slipped her headphones into her ears and turned on the radio. Music was a lot like writing, in fact there were very few differences. Writing was emotions and passions on paper, music was emotions and passions set to a tune. And both understood the importance of words.

"And now ladies and gentlemen, one of our favorite singer's latest songs for his new album: Percy Jackson with Minefield." Annabeth resisted the urge to moan at the mention of Percy Jackson. What was with that guy? What made him so amazing? Why him and not someone else? But she didn't change the station. For once she listened. And what she heard made her shiver.

"Well I was nineteen, you were twenty

one

The year we got engaged

And everyone said we were much too young

But we did it anyway.

And we got the rings for forty each

From a pawnshop down the road

And we said our vows and took the leap

Now just a few years ago.

And we went dancing in the minefields

We went sailing in the storms

And it was harder than we dreamed

But I believe that's what the promise is for.

Well I do are the two most famous last words

The beginning of the end

But to lose your life for another I've heard

Is a good place to begin

Cause the only way to live your life

Is to lay your own life down

And I believe it's an easy price for the life we have found

And we're dancing in the minefields

We're sailing in the storms

And this is harder than we dream

But I believe that's what the promise is for

That's what the promise is for.

So when I lose my way, find me

When I lose love's chains, bind me

And the end of all my faith

To the end of all my days

When I forget my name, remind me.

So I'll walk with you in the Shadow Lands

Till the shadows disappear

So in the face of all this Chaos

Maybe I can dance with you.

So let's go dancing in the minefields

Let's go sailing in the storm

Let's go dancing in the minefields

And kicking down the doors!

Oh Let's go dancing in the minefields

And sailing in the storms.

Oh this is harder than we dreamed

But I believe that's what the promise is for."

Annabeth looked back down at her piece of paper in shock. Who wrote like that? It reminded her of one of her words for the wise she wrote down in one of her letters, there was one about minefields and storms that she distinctly could recall.

W4W: Life is a minefield. Life is a storm. Honestly, that's what it is. It's trials, one right after another, right after another. But that's what makes it beautiful. In our brokenness we are more beautiful than before, it is when we are damned that we are the most beautiful. So why not dance in the minefields? Why not sail in the storms?

Looking back at her piece of paper, she buried her head in the crook of her arm and ran her left hand through her curls, a position she always seemed to end up in when she wrote her stories, and she began to write:

"And because of that you should dance with me," the masked stranger said, holding out his hand like one of the gentlemen in one of those old fashion movies Hannah's cousin liked to watch.

"Well if you insist, it does beat standing in a dark corner," Hannah said, taking his hand.

"I think anything beats standing in a dark corner," he said.

"Unless you're an assassin or a ninja," Hannah countered. The boy snorted and Hannah laughed.

"Okay, if you have a normal profession that does not involve murdering people, than anything beats standing in a dark corner. How's that for your liking?"

"I like it very much," she said.

The dance was a waltz, which Hannah had learned from her classes that her mother made her take back in eighth grade to try and make her the "proper" woman. Needless to say, the efforts failed. Nothing her mother could do would change how Hannah asked, contrary to what she thought. On the outside Hannah looked like the perfect daughter, but deep down she had a rebellious streak. And that streak had become even more apparent with her diagnoses.

Her partner seemed also very adept at the waltz, his movements were smooth and fluid. His breath smelled like smoke when he talked and Hannah could see the slight impression of a tattoo peeking out from behind his neck and curling around his neck.

He twirled Hannah around, her purple dress flowing outwards like a flower. "You're actually a good dancer," he commented. "Usually girls with pretty faces are klutzes."

"Thanks," Hannah said dryly. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should take it as more," he said cockily. "Especially since it's coming from me. I'm an amazing judge of character."

"And you're also incredibly humble," Hannah said sarcastically.

"I'm glad you think so," he smiled, his eyes deep and dark.

"It was sarcasm."

"You say it is, but I can take it as any way I like, and I like to think that I am very humble," he said. Hannah was busy trying to determine who he was at her school. He seemed familiar and she knew three things:

He smoked.

He had a tattoo

He had too much arrogance for his own good.

That narrowed it down to about half the male population.

And the mask wasn't helping.

Birch also was trying to figure out who he was dancing with. He had seen her, with her dark purple dress that fell to her knees which was unlike the long ankle length dresses the other girls wore. It was more sleek and rebellious, more daring and Birch liked daring. She had dark brown curls pulled back and large violet eyes, but other than that he couldn't tell a thing about her face which was covered by a sleek silver mask.

He had decided that she was too pretty to just be standing there so he went to ask her to dance. After all, she wasn't too hard on the eyes.

But she was something different, just the way she moved, with her head held high, she held an air of confidence Birch didn't see much with girls. It was as if she was living every moment to her fullest. She spun around the dance floor with grace and yet she walked with rebellion.

Her every breath spoke of rebellion.

And Birch knew rebellion, he had been rebelling since a young age.

But what was she rebelling against?

Annabeth's phone buzzed, jolting her out of her world of Birch and Hannah and she flipped it open, she had a new PM from GreenEyes&BlueCoke. She opened it up and read it.

GreenEyes&BlueCoke: I loved the new chapter. Can't wait to read about the dance when they finally meet, I actually just went to a masquerade myself. Had a blast and met a really awesome girl. Keep writing, you make me see the world differently.

Annabeth smiled. Whoever this GreenEyes&BlueCoke was, he made her smile. She felt like she would like him in real life if she actually knew him, she felt like they'd become good friends if they actually met each other.

She took another sip of her coffee (her addiction was getting bad).

"Annabeth?" Annabeth looked up to see Luke standing over her, she groaned. How out of all the different coffee shops in all of New York City did her manage to choose to go to Veritas? (AN: At my school we have a coffee shop in it and it's called Veritas which means truth in Latin). The Fates were certainly getting annoying right now.

"Hey Luke," she mumbled, closing her notebook with a sharp jerk and putting her arm casually over the notebook so that he couldn't see what it was. But the problem with trying to hide something usually meant that they became even more curious.

"What's that Annie?" he asked, sliding into the seat across from her. "Some more writing?"

"Did I say you could sit there?" Annabeth said, turning her nose up at him but clutching her notebook even tighter. She would die if anyone, especially Luke was to see it.

"Oh come on now Annabeth," Luke said grinning, "Is that any way to treat your best friend?"

"You're name is Thalia?" Annabeth said, widening her eyes in mock surprise. Luke stuck his tongue out at her.

"Honestly Annabeth, what happened? We were tight," he said, twisting his middle finger and pointer finger together to demonstrate.

"And of course there was Thalia as well," Annabeth pointed out.

"Yeah, Pinecone Face," Luke snorted.

"Oh shut up Luke, you guys were close," Annabeth said, crossing her arms.

"Not as close as you and I, we were inseparable," Luke said, his blue eyes shining. "We were like family."

"Yeah, well family doesn't back stab family. Or trick them into thinking that they're important when really they aren't."

Annabeth watched Luke's eyes darkened. "You're still mad about that are you?" He asked softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah well it sure looked like you did when you were eating Tracey German's face behind the gym when you were apparently oh so in love with me," Annabeth said sarcastically.

"Annabeth, I regret doing that," Luke said and he almost sounded in pain. Annabeth snorted, Luke had always been a good actor. Only people that were good actors could fool Annabeth, she usually was an excellent judge of character. "I wanted to tell you for the longest time that I was sorry but you would never look at me, you would never even speak to me. And then you left. You don't know how ashamed I was." He bowed his head and Annabeth almost wanted to laugh.

"Well Luke," she said, brushing her hands together as if ridding herself of him. "That was a lovely story, but you were never the greatest writer. I need to go." She stood up, shoving her notebook into her bag and grabbing her phone.

Luke grabbed her wrist again, looking at her. "Annabeth, I want to try again. Please," he begged. "I promise I won't trick you again."

Annabeth studied his face, that face that she had loved so deeply at one point, that face which she thought she could spend the rest of her life with. She sighed.

"One more chance Luke, you get one more chance."

"Gods Percy, does that have to happen every time we set foot outside the door and go into public?" Nico asked as they hurried up the steps to Sally and Paul's apartment, Tyson in tow.

"You were the one who jinxed it," Percy huffed as they pushed the door open. They had just ran all the way from the aquarium to the subway and then switched so many trains that they lost count so they had ended up a few too many blocks away from the apartment so they had ran… just in case. Girls with cameras had the senses of a bloodhound.

When the girl had asked Percy for his autograph, he had obliged at first, but he begged her too be quiet. Of course he knew it was impossible to ask a twelve year old girl to be quiet, it was almost against their DNA. So she had gone screaming off to her friend.

And then everyone wanted to see Percy Jackson.

And everyone wanted their picture with him.

And everyone wanted to touch him.

It was just weird… so they had taken off running, Tyson thankfully knew why they had to run. It was funny, Percy didn't think he'd be running from crazy girl as a living when he got older. Of course he was very skilled at it from his high school days when the girls chased him for breaking their hearts but still.

Percy pushed the door open to the apartment and Sally came rushing towards them. "I saw the news, what did you do this time?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"I solemnly swear that this time I did nothing," Percy said, putting his hands up.

"So no accidently pulling levers and releasing catwalks into a pool of sharks?" Sally asked. Percy winced at that. Last time he had went with Tyson and Nico, they had been touring the shark pool and Percy had accidently pulled the wrong lever… let's just say they went for an unexpected swim.

"I did no such thing," Percy said. "Scout's honor."

Sally sighed in relief. "Good, I don't need my son to be on the news for drunk driving or something."

"Don't worry Mom, I'm not that stupid," Percy joked. Sally hugged her son and Percy instantly felt like a little boy again in her arms, back when he was in elementary school and he came home with scrapes from fights in the street which Sally would bandage and then kiss him on the forehead.

"Sometimes we wonder thought," Paul said, coming into the room, grinning. "Like that time that you ran down the street only in your underwear, claiming that you were the King of the Sea." Percy cringed at that memory and Nico snorted. It had been the first time he had ever gotten drunk and even though the memory was vague and not completely there, Sally and Paul had a habit of reminding him of it any time they could, especially Paul.

"Can we not talk about that?" Percy mumbled.

"I want to hear the story again and I'm sure Tyson would love to hear it as well," Nico said, smirking at Percy. "Right Tyson?"

"I am ready for a story," Tyson nodded earnestly. Percy moaned.

"Well then we should talk about it over dinner, mashed potatoes and meatloaf," Sally said.

Percy perked up at this. "Are they blue?"He asked.

"Do birds fly?" Sally smiled. "Of course they're blue."

The five of them went into the dining room where the food was sitting on the table. "It's almost as if you knew we would be running away from a mob of crazed girls," Percy noted. "You didn't call them and tell them I'd be there did you?" He accused.

"Of course not," Sally said… "That would be Paul."

Percy whirled around on Percy. "You did what!"

"I'm joking Percy, I just had a feeling, call it a gut instinct." The five of them sat down and Percy looked around at the four other people: his mother who had went through one of the hardest lives that there was, Paul a man who understood Percy and yet didn't press himself upon Percy and try to pretend that he was his father, Tyson his half brother who you could never make sad, and Nico the only friend that was there for him the whole time.

The blue mashed potatoes were a symbol even. A symbol of his mother's love and promise to him. She was never going to stop loving him, no matter how terrible something got, no matter what stupid thing he did, it wasn't even possible for her to stop loving him.

When love is real, it cannot ever be broken.

It reminded him of something he had read in one of the letters. Those letters always seemed to come back to him, they always seemed to relate to him, they always were right:

W4W: Family isn't just the people whose blood runs in your veins, they're not the people you see once a year at a family reunion, or the ones who come to you only when they're in trouble. No. Family is the people you care the world about, the people you would die for, the people you would do anything for, the people you would give the world for.

Annabeth's phone rang at two o'clock at night. She moaned as the song Do You Hear the People Sing blared out loud in her small little loft. Rolling over on her small twin sized mattress, she grabbed the old flip phone and pressed the talk button.

"Hello?" Annabeth asked, her voice dripping with sleep from being awoken at so late a time.

"Annabeth?" Her step-mother's concerned voice came on over the speaker. "Is this you?"

"Of course it's me," Annabeth said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

And when she didn't yap at Annabeth for being sarcastic, she knew something was wrong.

"Sue what's wrong?" Annabeth asked, she heard Sue's heavy breathing on the other side of the phone as if she had been crying. "Sue what happened?"

"Your father… your father had a stroke," she choked. "They don't know if he's going to make it."

Annabeth went numb and her phone fell to the ground with a sharp clatter.

One of the W4W was suggested by WendyDarling (the one about family which I ADORE!)

Song used is Dancing in the Minefields by Andrew Peterson, an amazing song writer.