Alright, guys, last chapter. It sort of makes me cringe, ignore those bits. It's written in sort of a fragmented form, lots of line breaks. Yes that is intentional. Please please please review, even if you haven't ever before. Just tell me what you thought. I will probably come back in a bit and edit up my early chapters, so I'll let you know when that happens.

I really hope that you've liked this story and if I haven't said it before: thank you. Thank you for favoriting and subscribing and reviewing. Thank you for being encouraging and hilarious and wonderful.

Now you also get to make fun of me for being a sentimental crazy, oh well.

Hospitals and government agencies. "Eyewitness accounts" and official reports. The days after the rescue had been a blur.

Percy had stolen Annabeth's picture off of her file and they were laughing about it while sitting among the others in the cold hard chairs in the agency.

Things rushed on.

"Breaking News" insanity had died after a few weeks. Their captors were under lock and key awaiting trials and the initiates had said their goodbyes and gone their separate ways. Some would be called as witnesses when the time came, but otherwise they wouldn't be grouped together any longer. There had been initial discussion of group therapy and prolonged treatment but at the demands of the parents, they had been sent home at last.

Percy and Annabeth parted at the terminal O'Hare. The brief awkward silence had filled itself with all the words they could to bring themselves to speak. Finally the last call for her flight forced them to part.

At length, Annabeth turned back and smiled. "See you around, Jackson."

"You too, Chase."

She raised her hand in farewell and then she was gone.

It had been six months since Percy and Annabeth had seen each other.

Percy was sitting on his bed in New York, staring out the window. It was summer now, but he hadn't been back to school since he'd returned. His mom had attempted to talk him into doing some courses online but his heart wasn't in it.

He picked up his phone and stared absently at the background: Annabeth. It was from the file at the agency, the one he'd nicked during interviews.

They had never said that they would see each other again, it just seemed like a given to him. Or maybe an impossibility that they could ever part while the universe was in tact. After they had come so far together for so long, her absence was starting to kill him. Ordinary life was overwhelming enough, the readjustments were astounding. And she would understand. He needed her to understand.

Annabeth sat down in the floor of her room. It was still bright pink from when she was last here: 9 years ago. She was going to paint it the week she got back, but had lost fervour so the job hadn't been done yet. She hadn't moved any of the stuffed animals or kiddie posters that her parents had left exactly as they were. She pretended the old decor made it more like home. But honestly it didn't. It just felt fake.

Home was a concept that would never come to her.

Her school work was piled on the floor around her. Nine years of real linear work. It was frustrating to be 16 and struggling through long division, but she was learning. Her tutor was optimistic, he said that she might even be able to make up her deficit in time to go to a real school for senior year.

A real school. With lockers and homework and annoying teachers. With a gym and football games and prom. And names. Hundreds of people all free to identify themselves.

Just to prove that she was one of them, Annabeth had written out her full name on her wall in black marker: Annabeth Minerva Chase.

That was her freedom, but the chains remained.

She slid open her nightstand drawer and pushed aside old notes and garbage. There it was at the very bottom. She hadn't told anyone yet that she still had it. She didn't think that they would understand. Because after 9 years of nothing else, it was hard to throw it away. Even she didn't completely understand her own reasons. She was sure as heck not nostalgic.

The place was hell on earth. But the best memories, the past year had outshone all of the lonely dark days. Even if only by a little. Now it had been six months without a word.

He had a real life before, she chided herself, he could have moved on. And good for him.

For him.

She slammed the drawer shut and looked out the window.

Maybe she had been wrong about them. Maybe they'd missed their chance.

"Where are you going, Percy?"

"I need to see a friend."

"Be back in time for dinner?"

"I don't think so."

Sally Jackson leaned out of the kitchen and looked quizzically at her son. "Where exactly is this friend?"

"Richmond, Virginia."

"What?" She walked down the front hall drying her hands on a dish towel. "You think that you can just go gallivanting across the country whenever you want?"

"Mom, I need this, please."

"Is it Annabeth?"

He nodded.

She studied his face. "Just this one time, okay?" She wrapped him in a hug like he was a little kid again. "I know its been really hard on you. Just be careful."

"Thank you."

"Got your phone? Call me when it gets dark."

He smiled. "Gods, Mom."

Cold air blasted out of the vents as he sped down the freeway. The address had emblazoned itself in his memory from the day that they had found her file in the Masquerade.

Maybe this was a fatal mistake, but he couldn't move on until she slammed the door in his face. He couldn't stand not knowing where they stood after all this time. Wondering would kill him.

Even at top speed it took him six long hours to get there. The summer sun would stay out a bit longer, but it was beginning to move toward the hills.

He nearly got lost in the windy streets of identical oases in suburbia, but finally found the right one.

The driveway was empty.

That figures, he thought, finally come down here and I picked vacation week.

He went to ring the doorbell anyway, it was worth a shot. The stepping-stones on the path to the door were miles and miles long. His leaden finger pressed the bell and it made a strange dull dead sound when he rang it.

Nothing.

He was about to turn around when he thought he could hear phantoms of footsteps on the stairs.

A voice called, "Who is it?" apprehensively. Her voice.

He felt like someone had taken all of the oxygen from his lungs. He tried for a reply but no words came.

"Hello?" she called again.

"It's me. It's Percy."

The door flew open. The space between them vanished in a heartbeat.

Together. Just like old times. Just like it should be.

Annabeth's brain was spinning fast enough to match her heartbeat. It seemed like after all these months of staring at the phone and having imaginary conversations her mind had overloaded and shutdown at the sight of him. And it was wonderful.

Percy was drinking her in. Her smile, her eyes, the vague scent of her. Everything was so familiar. And when they touched, six months of alone vanished from memory. To him they felt so right. He had an irrational desire to beat fate, to make distance, time and circumstances fall to the wayside so he could be with her. There was no way that he had come all this way just to say goodbye and watch the days fade to grey without her. And the grey would only remind him of her eyes.

Annabeth's room was a wreck. The floor was knee deep with books and papers years and years of school work that she finally got to do.

She glanced down and look moderately embarrassed. "Sorry about the mess."

"No, no, it's fine."

Annabeth picked her way over to the window. It opened out onto a dormer, she had often climbed out here in the middle of her sleepless nights after coming home. It was a daring feat that her seven year-old self had only dreamed of attempting so many years ago.

Something caught Percy's eye as he followed her over, Annabeth's dull name written in bold marker on the wall.

"Come on, it's just..." She followed his gaze. "Oh, that."

"Annabeth Minerva Chase," he tried it out, forming each syllable slowly and carefully.

"Minerva is the Roman name for the goddess of crafts and wisdom. My father admired her role in history."

"It suits you." He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

She laughed quietly. "It's silly. Writing it on the wall, I mean."

Percy's brows furrowed. "I don't think so."

The silence that had settled over them in the minutes that followed wasn't empty or awkward. It was brimming, bursting with the thoughts and emotions that neither could fathom into sensible words.

They had fallen back into each other's rhythm as easy as breathing.

Suddenly, Annabeth spoke. "You know, I thought I was never gonna see you again, Seaweed Brain."

"Was that a good thought?" Hiding under the sarcasm, he gave voice to both of their fears that the other had moved on with life.

She kissed him again. "What do you think?"

Stolen glances. Laughter. Simple conversation until after the sun had finally set into brilliant pinks and oranges, setting the horizon on fire.

But it couldn't last walked sullenly down the stairs and onto the front porch. This couldn't end. This couldn't be goodbye.

She caught his hand before he could get too far away. She hadn't said everything that needed saying.

"Why did you come? Why now, after all this time?"

He blinked and just stared at her like, don't you know? "I came because... Because I think I might love you, Wise Girl, and I needed to be sure."

"Well... Are you sure now?"

He kissed her again. "What do you think?"