The Seven piled into the car wet, tired and very, very happy. Unlike the last time, Annabeth slid into shotgun besides Percy at the wheel, leaving the other four to suffer, squashed in the back. She hoisted her feet up onto the dashboard and idly ran her hand over the radio, indecisive; tentative, feeling as though any brush of the fingertips, and click of a button could deactivate a nuclear weapon. Annabeth guessed this was the fault of her experience. Of the dangerous arms she had used and slaughtered with. Or perhaps with the crane and Cacus, the time barely more than a year ago with Hermes's spear. Across from her, Percy took one hand from the steering wheel and slipped her a Twenty Øne Piløts disc, which she gladly slipped into the CD slot. Almost instantaneously, a heart-wrenching, almost melancholy ode pumped from the stereo and filled her ears and took her and cast her in its shadow and whisked her away and away and away.
She was shaken from her reverie when Percy's cool fingers laces through her's. Startled, she glanced up and slipped him a smile. A private smile, a mere whisper or a secret; a personal exchange and gesture filled with love and passion and emotions brimming on its lips and the red, red tint of the mouth compatible with the scarlet shade of the heart. No one else saw the smile. No one else felt the love which flew between them like sparks of electricity as they flew down the highway. The fire where their fingers touched and those embers - those embers which never died as their knees touched lightly and they silently and privately traded emotions which coursed through their veins and ran as deep as the rivers of the underworld.
Piper was good at singing. If there had been any doubt about such a fact before, that uncertainty was now disproven with a tumultuous gasp and five companions staring almost hungrily at the daughter of Aphrodite. Hungry for the voice, the purity that leaked from her mouth and the clear, sharp notes that wove themselves into a tapestry to make a melody that warped all reality. As the Prius darted through an endless labyrinth of streets and towering skyscrapers, Piper sang along to to the music, oblivious to the shock which played host to each person in sundry. Her voice seemed to cut like a blade, splicing the very air around them, resonating, reverberating, resounding in the little cramped space that was this vehicle. The soft tune of Trapdoor carried in the wind, and soon the wind was freighted with ambition and possibility. With power and beauty and authority. When the song was done, she turned to Annabeth at the front.
"Hey, got any chips?- What? Why are you all staring?"
She was answered with a silence. A silence that thrashed and roared like an angry lion. After a few moments, Jason finally spoke and it shattered like glass.
"Damn Piper," He said, "We knew you could sing, but not like that."
Piper blinked, then smiled. She tossed her hair. "Thank you. Thank you very much."
After another half hour, the car drew up before a rustic, old red-brick townhouse - more of a mansion really- on the lower side of Manhattan. It was very beautiful and very, very large.
"Aight ladies," Percy said as he swivelled in his seat, "Your stop. Next stop: My mom's apartment for us guys."
Jason peered out of the window and let out a low whistle. "Nice house, Pipes."
Piper blushed red. It was easy to forget sometimes, that Piper's dad was none other than the famous Tristan McLean, King of Sparta, and that she was, to put it blatantly, absolutely stinking rich.
Annabeth squeezed Percy's hand one last time, flashed him a smile - that smile belonging solely to two people who loved and understood each other above all else - and stepped out of the car, her bag in tow. Whilst Piper was accommodated besides the door, Hazel was squished between Jason and Frank, and so was faced with a rather pressing predicament. She shouldered her rucksack and groaned as she readied herself for a clamber over the boys, who each whimpered in turn as the daughter of Pluto scrambled over them, elbowing Jason first as she heaved herself up, then tripping over Frank's bulk and out onto the sidewalk. Piper caught her by the strap of her bag and righted her friend.
"Don't miss us too much!" Percy yelled as he gunned the engine and sped off down the tarmac road.
"We won't!" Piper shouted after the retreating boot. Annabeth said nothing.
The girls walked up the path to the front door with a spring to their step. Annabeth felt happy and fulfilled after their day spent swimming and surfing and frolicking in the golden sunlight. She watched as Piper drew a key from her pocket and gently pushed the door open, motioning for her friends to follow. They trailed behind her in wonder. Annabeth halted suddenly in the hallway and Hazel, who had followed behind her, crashed on Annabeth's back. Annabeth loosed a breath and stared about herself. The house was absolutely beautiful. The floorboards bore no sign of carpet, revealing a mahogany floor so polished she could see her reflection in it. The stairs were before them, and led up to the next story and, as Annabeth could see from the obvious marks in the ceiling, another floor above. Probably another one beyond it too. She trod carefully down the hallway and into the room at the end of the passage. The hallway wove its way to huge room at the end of the corridor which must have served as a ballroom in times before when woman danced in swaths of silk and men doffed their hats and extended their hands and spun and spun and spun. Annabeth stopped still in the doorframe and gaped. It had large floor-to-ceiling windows and a little alcove lined with a cushioned bench. The floor was clear save for the lavish velvet sofas at the side, the walls littered with beautiful mirrors and enthralling paintings, the ceiling adorned with chandeliers, gold and shining. There was a luscious garden beyond, illuminated in the fading light by mock oil-lamps on the sizeable veranda. Two shadows joined Annabeth at her side.
"Like it?" Whispered the familiar voice of Piper in her ear.
"Love it," Annabeth breathed. She stared at the ballroom and imagined music floating around them, filling up every corner and crack of the room, imagined dancing here with Percy, eyes closed, pressed as close as a door kissing the doorframe. She could almost feel the way his calloused hands held her as they moved around the room with the grace only earned from years of either dance or that of fighting.
Someone put a hand on her shoulder.
"Come one," Piper's voice said again, "I'll introduce you to my dad, then we can go up to my room."
Annabeth did not want to leave the ballroom, but she allowed herself to be led away down the corridor and gently guided up the stairs. Up, up, up. So high she thought they would hit the sky.
Piper raised a hand and turned a polished doorknob of an oak door. It creaked open and Annabeth and Hazel followed a little nervously. They padded into another room. Another room that knocked Annabeth's breath away. One that made elation rise inside her and euphoria fill every pore in her body and all she wanted to do was to stare and stare and stare.
It was a library.
And it was huge.
Mahogany bookshelves freighted with books - books battered and old, books new and shining, Dickens and Rowling and mysteries and thrillers and classics and YA and anything Annabeth could have desired. It was true, Annabeth was dyslexic, but such a matter was trivial when it came to reading. A sort of jealousy settled on Annabeth's heart. How she would love a library so like this one in her house. Piper glanced backwards and took in her expression.
"Take any book you want," she told her friend. Annabeth looked at her incredulously.
"It's- It's okay."
Hazel let out a breathy chuckle and sauntered casually over to the nearest bookshelf. She brushed her fingers over the nearest array of books before withdrawing sharply as though she had been burnt. She glanced down at her hand and frantically cleaned it, which was stained with sand and still damp from the beach.
"Dad!?" Piper called.
"I'm over here!" Called a muffled voice. Piper beckoned to her friends to follow and wordlessly, Annabeth and Hazel did so. They stopped when they reached the other end of the library, where there was a cosy little fire blazing and two sofas and a coffee table to make a snug little lounge. And on one of those sofas, book before him but staring into the hearth, seemingly drawing wisdom from its embers, sat the very Tristan McLean. Here he was. Incarnate. Very real.
It was surreal, Annabeth thought. That after all these years of watching him on the television, she had this famous movie star seated before her in a dressing gown and slippers. And father to her best friend. Tristan McLean glanced up and smiled in a jovial, paternal manner.
"Pipes!" He exclaimed, "Had a nice time at the beach?" He stretched out his arms and Piper hugged him firmly.
"It was great." She gestured behind her, "These are Annabeth and Hazel."
Annabeth looked down at the man and felt suddenly at loss. She was unsure on how to greet him. Most girls would probably cry with ecstasy of they met such King of Sparta. Perhaps she should shake his hand. Maybe ask for his autograph or beg him a selfie. Tristan however, seemed to sense her unease, because he smiled reassuringly at Annabeth and Hazel in turn, and extended a hand to each of them. His handshake was firm, his demeanour confident from his years of acting and fame.
"Pleasure to meet you girls."
Annabeth nodded, and was about to say 'ditto.' She stopped herself before it slipped from her lips unbidden. Piper's dad or not, that wasn't the way to address a celebrity. Instead, she settled for a nod.
"You too, sir."
Hazel followed her lead and smiled at Tristan.
"You go to school with Pipes?" Tristan asked, his tone conversational and light.
"Yes. We're in the same dorm," Annabeth said, recalling Piper's warning that her father had no idea of her being a demigod. Hazel nodded in agreement and shot Piper an almost apprehensive, questioning look which to any other would have made no sense. But Piper had a way with people, and have her dad one last hug.
"We'll be up in my room."
Tristan ruffled his daughter's hair. "I missed you Pipes."
Piper's expression turned slightly wistful. "You too, dad."
Some time later, the three of them found themselves seated on Piper's king sized bed, hands buried in bowls of popcorn and watching BBC Sherlock on a Sony television. Annabeth watched intently, and a little pridefully when she managed to correctly figure out a certain mystery. It was fun. Fun to sit here on this bed wrapped in quilts. Fun to each popcorn like there was no tomorrow. Fun to just kick back and watch something with her best friends and to rejoice in this utter feeling of relaxation and happiness. They were watching The Rickernback Fall (A/N: Please excuse the spelling) - which was admittedly very sad and heart-wrenching -, exchanging jokes and lighthearted banter, complaining about their boyfriend's strange habits (Sleeping as a bulldog?), discussing with great passion about music (Dayum girl, Andy Black is hot) and, surprisingly, politics (Woah, isn't Trump such a bigoted bastard. He can stick his head so far up his ass, he can finally see all the crap he comes out with (A/N:props to Apocolipscat for the latter insult)).
There was a knock on the door and a familiar figure came in. Annabeth gaped.
"Mellie!?"she gasped. "How's Chuck? Hedge? Aren't you on leave to take care of the baby?"
Mellie smiled warmly. "I just came to bring you dinner and do a bit of cleaning around the house. Nothing big. Everyone's good back at camp, you're being missed. Especially at Capture The Flag." She set a tray laden with bowls of soup and flatbreads on the bed, and gave them a friendly wave.
"I must be on my way now," she said. Before their eyes, Mellie the cloud spirit opened Piper's bedroom window and floated right out into the sky. Annabeth blinked in shock.
"That was... Somewhat unexpected."
Hazel laughed. "I know right!"
Piper glanced at them and lifted a bowl off the table. She turned to her friends. "Well I'd advise you to dig in to your food now because my dad's chefs make the most divine food and you'll want to eat it before it gets cold."
Annabeth and Hazel needed no further encouragement.
A few hours later, Annabeth, Piper and Hazel were discussing sleeping arrangements.
"We have a down mattress in the cupboard," Piper was saying, "So one of you can sleep on the mattress and the other with me on the bed."
Annabeth rubbed her eyes and yawned. "I'll sleep on the floor. Hazel is smaller, it's be an easier for both of you."
Nodding, Hazel dug into her bag and pulled out her pyjamas. "I'm tired then." She said. "Can you guys turn around whilst I change?"
Piper and Annabeth glanced at each other and a smile, a smile of restraining laughter, played on each of their lips.
"Hazel," Piper said as she threw herself down prostate onto the bed, "You may be from the forties, but there isn't any need for us to turn around. We're all girls right?"
Hazel fanned her face. "Gosh, I think I'll change in the bathroom."
Annabeth began to crack up. "'Gosh darn it,' don't be so prudish!"
She yelped, and ducked as a cushion came flying towards her. Hazel was laughing now. She grabbed her clothes and made her way towards the bathroom, leaving her friends giggling behind her.
Piper and Annabeth wriggled into their pyjamas and then ran down the hall to the cupboard Piper had earlier mentioned. It was past twelve, and they were both tired and clumsy as they threw open the closet doors to reveal neatly stacked bedsheets and a large mattress. Together, Annabeth and Piper hauled out the mattress and turned it on its side as they travelled the halls back to the bedroom. Hazel trailed behind them, her vision obscured by the heap of sheets and pillows and duvets in her arms. She was laughing as she bumped into walls, almost drunk on her own giddiness. The trio made quick work of making the beds and presently, they were all warm, lying under blankets and exchanging rapid conversation about the day. They chatted about the surfing and of the swimming and the picnic and Piper's singing, at which the girl blushed and dug her head into her pillow.
They joked. They laughed. They talked.
An hour and a half later, Annabeth couldn't sleep. She was exhausted, that was true, but she was also terrified. Terrified of the nightmares that rotted her mind like a disease, the monsters that chased her around the corners and into alleys. The phantoms and the wraiths that silently laughed from the shadows. She wished Percy were here.
In the bed across from her, Piper stirred and sat up.
"Are you okay?" She whispered into the darkness, her voice heavy with sleep.
Piper's tone had been quiet, but even so, Hazel besides her murmured something unintelligible, and opened her eyes, her golden pupils glinting in the moonlight as she stared down at Annabeth.
"You okay?" Hazel asked. Annabeth began to nod, but then accidentally shook her head.
"I just- it's just," she took a deep breath, "I can't sleep because I'm scared of nightmares and I'm going to wake up screaming in the night and I need Percy to help because... Well, because..." The words rushed out in a jumble, rolled in together like dough.
Piper clicked on the light besides her bed and gave her friends a sympathetic smile. "Because?" She asked.
Annabeth turned a vivid shade of puce. "Never mind. No, never mind."
Piper began to grin, a mischievous glint in her multicoloured eyes that made her face seem so alive.
"...Because?" She pressed.
"Never mind," Annabeth muttered, embarrassment colouring her her voice. Hazel too began to laugh. She reached out and poked her friend.
"Because?" She asked. Annabeth glared at them, their gazes were like guns and their smiles like vipers. She was on the hot seat and she did not like it.
"Because Percy helps me," She choked out, spluttered, "Because when he's here I don't have nightmares, neither of us do because we're like medicine to each other and when he's not here, I can't sleep and at home I need to Iris message him every night because I need him at night and I can't. Sleep. Without him."
Pipers eyes glittered with amusement and Hazel began to rock with laughter.
"Aww," Piper was giggling, "That's so romantic!"
Annabeth's glare hardened, though behind all the ice and storm in her graveyard eyes, there was indeed a little softness. A little part of her that wanted to sit here and laugh along with her best friends who were grinning and each other and chortling. She picked up the pillow by her head and chucked it at Piper, who chucked it right back. Hazel punched Annabeth's arm lightly, if to get her attention more than anything.
"Lighten up," she said. "We'll be here for the nightmares."
Annabeth shook her head. "Don't worry, I can sleep when I get home. You won't sleep well with me."
"But-"
"It's fine. Just go back to sleep."
Hazel looked like she wanted to say something but sighed deeply and nodded in acquiescence. Piper grumbled something too, but even so clicked the lights off. No sooner had her head touched the pillow, she was snoring again.
Annabeth pulled out her book and her reading lamp and prepared herself for a long, long night.
