A/N: It gets better. I promise.

"If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs."

August 20th. August 20th, at 3:00 PM.

That was when he supposed to pick up his daughter from camp.

He wrote it on his calendar, doodled it on the back of his hand, typed it on the computer when he wasn't thinking. Helen remarked that she had never seen Frederick so excited, not since the twins came along.

"Is that your birthday?" Bobby wanted to know, pointing to his father's hand.

"No," Frederick said.

"Is it Annabeth's birthday?" he questioned.

"Nope,"

Bobby's eyes widened. "Is Mommy having a baby that day?" he gasped.

"Uh, not that I know of," Frederick stated, reddening a little.

"Oh, shut up," Matthew said, grabbing his brother's hand. "Come on, Bobby. It's just a day. Right, Dad?" he questioned, wanting to be right. Matthew always wanted to be right. Just like Annabeth.

"No, it isn't. Annabeth is coming home," Dr. Chase sighed, sitting down.

"Oh! Can she drive yet? Maybe she can take us to a movie!"

"Yeah!" Bobby cried, smiling. "I want to see a movie!"

"I think she's still a bit young to drive," Frederick informed them.

Matthew wrinkled his nose, frowning. "How come we don't get to go to summer camp?"

"Ask your mother."

"Do we get to go out for dinner when Annabeth comes back?" Bobby said, hopping up and down.

"Ooh! Can I get dessert?" Matthew said.

"We'll see." Frederick muttered, going back to typing his email.

August 20th. August 20th, at 3:00 PM. August 20th.

How the story went, or at least the story Matthew and Bobby told the firefighters, was that Bobby yelled "Annie's coming!" while jumping on the couch.

"We should make cookies," Matthew decided, turning on the TV. "Or go sledding on the stairs."

"Yeah," Bobby said. "Cookies first!" He grabbed a pan and dumped eggs, butter, sugar, and flour into it. Matthew turned the stove on. They went out to the garage to get the sleds. Meanwhile, their "cookies" went up in flames.

Mrs. O'Malley, their elderly next door neighbor called 911 (and Helen) because she noticed smoke coming out of the window. Five minutes later, fire trucks showed up.

Needless to say, Helen was not at all pleased. "Where were you when all of this happened, Frederick?" she cried. "I was at the hospital, and then I get a phone call that my house is burning down!"

"I was working," he told her. "I didn't think they would ty to bake something!"

"Well, you need to watch them better! And you-" she turned to Matthew and Bobby, who were squirming on the couch. "You do not turn on the stove, and you do not try to go sledding down the stairs. Got it?"

They nodded mournfully.

August 20th. August 20th, at 3:00 PM. Camp Half Blood, Long Island Sound, NY.

When the day finally came, Frederick was sitting at his desk, pulling some last minute papers together when he heard a little boy scream. And then a thud.

The worst part wasn't the screaming. No, it was the empty, panicked silence that came after.

For the first time since summer vacation began, Frederick didn't hear anyone speak. He heard no one arguing over toy Lego's, or cookies. There were no fights over the TV remote, or complaints about the popsicle flavors. t seemed that not even the birds were still singing.

There was only an awful eerie silence. And then a single word.

"Daddy?" someone whispered.

He ran down the stairs and outside, his heart thudding in his chest.

Bobby stood openmouthed next to Matthew, who was lying on the ground, his arm bent in an awkward position.

"Daddy," Bobby whispered again. "Matthew fell out of the tree. From up high."

He took out his cell phone and called 911, dialing the number with shaky hands.

August 20th. August 20th, at 3:00 PM. Camp Half Blood, Long Island Sound, NY. Camper: Chase, Annabeth.

He sat in the waiting room for what seemed like hours.

There was no news of Matthew all day. No news. None.

This was his fault, he knew. Yet again, he had failed as a father.

Matthew was hurt, possibly dying, and Annabeth-

Well, Annabeth probably thought him no better than any of the monsters that hunted her outside of the house. The monsters, so many of which he had killed. Him. Frederick Chase. A murderer.

"Frederick Chase," the doctor called, his blue mask pulled down onto his neck. He looked young, maybe in his late twenties.

"Uh, yes," he replied, rising from his chair quickly.

"Your son's been asking for you,"

"Really? He's alive?" The doctor looked at him curiously.

"Um, yeah. Didn't anyone tell you that?"

"No," Bobby said, pouting. "We just sat here all day."

"Oh," the doctor looked sheepishly at the floor. "That was probably my job. See, I'm new here, and I just finished med school like a few months ago, and so I don't really know anything yet-"

Frederick stared at him a little.

"You know what? I'm going to stop talking now." the doctor finished. "Do you want to go see your son? He's in room 202 of the pediatrics ward."

"Thank you," Frederick breathed.

August 20th. August 20th, at 3:00 PM. Camp Half Blood, Long Island Sound, NY. Camper: Chase, Annabeth. Cabin: Athena.

They walked into the room to find Helen holding Matthew's hand as he skipped out of the room.

"Hi Daddy!" he cried, grinning and eating ice cream. Helen looked at Frederick with raised eyebrows.

"He's okay?" Frederick questioned. "Matthew's okay?"

"He's fine," Helen sighed. She rubbed his head lovingly. He stuck his tongue out at her. "Just a few stitches on his wrist. And a concussion. What I'm wondering is why you're still here instead of in New York," she glanced at her watch. "Isn't that almost a ten hour drive? I thought you were picking her up at three."

"I was," he said, flustered. "I mean, I-I am."

"Well, it's four-thirty right now."

"Oh no," he muttered, placing his head in his hands, panicked. "I-I can't disappoint her again. She might not come back... Helen, what do I do?" he cried. She sighed, giving him a look of pity.

"Frederick, you know that's not my decision. She's your daughter,"

"But-but you're my wife," he breathed.

"And you're her father," Helen reminded him. "I'm her stepmother. You've known her since she was born. I haven't."

"I haven't either," he sighed miserably. "She was gone so long, and now it's like we're strangers."

"Why don't you just say you're sorry?" Matthew suggested. "Call her, and say you're sorry."

"Yeah," Bobby repeated. He crossed his arms.

"Because it doesn't work that way," Frederick told them.

"Well, why not?" Matthew questioned. "It should."

It should, shouldn't it?

He drove up the road in his van, the road made out of rocks and pebbles and memories that no one wanted to remember.

It was morning when Dr. Chase finally reached the invisible boundary that no mortal could pass through, he stepped out of his car and turned towards the large house. A girl with blonde hair and braids walked towards him. When he came closer, he realized it was Annabeth.

"You're late," she said, getting in the car and slamming the door behind her. That was it. No hug, nothing. Frederick sighed and got in beside her.

"I missed you," he tried. She didn't even look at him as she placed her suitcase in the backseat, as he drove back down the road.

"You're a whole day late," Annabeth said. "I waited and waited for you, but you never showed up. Just like second grade," she added, referring to the time that he forgot to pick her up after school. For six hours. He felt the familiar pangs of guilt in his chest.

"I'm sorry," Frederick said, keeping one eye on the road and one eye on Annabeth. She was taller, he thought. And sunburned. There was a fresh scar on her cheek that he decided not to mention.

An hour passed.

"You do realize we're going to have to talk to each other eventually," he told Annabeth. But to his daughter, this was a game of sorts, and Annabeth Cassiopeia Chase didn't lose games.

Two hours. Three.

And then, as the clock was ticking to four hours and the sun was lowering in the sky, Annabeth finally spoke.

"Dad." she finally breathed, so low he wouldn't have been able to hreatr it if he wasn't listening diligently.

"Yes , sweetheart?" he replied. She flinched.

"Just don't do that to me, okay?"

"Do what?"

"Don't leave me there and forget to pick me up!" she cried. "I was all alone! Everyone else who was leaving for the school year- their parents came!"

He met her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry Annabeth. And you're right, I should have at least called you or something. The reason I'm so late is that one of your brothers had to go to the hospital because he fell out of a tree."

"Okay," she sighed, retreating back to looking out the window with her arms crossed. "Just at least call me. Because I was just sitting there all alone, wishing I had parents who cared about me."

"Annabeth, I care about you," he cried. "You think I would drive all the way here if I didn't?"

"Apparently not enough to call me and tell me that you would be an entire day late," she muttered, staring at the trees they drove past. Anything to avoid looking at him.

"Annabeth Chase!"

Tears sprang to her eyes. She wiped them away with a swipe of her hand. "You scared me! I thought that something happened to you. I thought you were in an accident! Or worse! I thought you were dead! I tried to call you, but your phone was off, so I called Helen, but she wouldn't even pick up, either!"

"I'm sorry," he apologized again, trying to scoop as much meaning into those words as he possibly could. "I'm sorry!"

"I know," she sighed. "I know you are, Dad,"

But maybe for what seemed like the thousandth time, sorry wasn't enough.

A/N: Okay, I know, I know. I haven't updated in forever. And I'm sorry. But school has been crazy lately, what with tests and projects and exams. I promise to update more once school is over!

By the way, thanks for all the reviews on last chapter! I very much enjoyed reading them!

-lunarchroniclesandcockatiels