As always, these characters do not belong to me.

Chapter Nineteen

Annabeth felt both heavy and weightless, awake but very much asleep. Her memories were disjointed, but she recalled the severing of ties with the Elites, the mad dash to escape as the compound was ambushed by bandits and her frightful encounter with Arachne and its bloodied conclusion. Then there was nothing. Just a black void rendering her blind. She wondered whether that was what death felt like.

How long Annabeth was left in the black void, she could not say. But she waited patiently, for a sign, for a light, anything, to tell her what to do next. Waited and waited, staring into the nothingness. Was it nothing? Annabeth squinted, or at least she thought she did, and there, the tiniest pinprick of something. It was growing, expanding, awash with images. Scenes of people she knew, people she had yet to meet but somehow, she knew exactly who they were.

Sitting there, watching her friend's stories unfold, Annabeth realised she had seen these very scenes. But where her mind couldn't comprehend and cope with the effects of the Crystal before, somehow the effects of the venom nullified the madness. The scenes were both heartening and heartbreaking, gratifying and saddening as the past revealed itself to Annabeth. Even her own past was scattered amongst the others, each intertwining story helping her to connect them all to their present selves.

She didn't know how long it would last, or how much she was to see, but Annabeth knew deep down that the longer she continued to watch scene after scene unfold, she would soon lose her sense of self and become trapped within her own mind.

She wasn't sure when she decided to move, she wasn't even sure if she was the one that decided it, but she rose to her feet – well, she thought she did – and began moving. She didn't know what destination she was heading towards, only that she was going, and she wasn't looking back.

Her eyes opened. They opened! The light was both a relief and blinding blaze. Her eyelids fluttered, lifting slower. Everything was a blur, and white. She spotted a patch of colour and focused on that, and it became sharper, more solid. A woman, maybe a year or two older than Annabeth sat near the end corner of her bed, short black hair obscuring her face as she studied the papers in her hand, rifling through others on her lap. She must've sensed Annabeth's gaze for she lifted her head, her electric blue eyes widening in surprise.

"Holy shit," she breathed, tossing aside her papers. "Phoebe owes me 10 gold coins."

The woman rose to her feet and came to Annabeth's side, who blinked, her eyes tracking her movements drowsily. Questions were coming thick and fast, but Annabeth was struggling to keep awake. She knew this woman, and yet she didn't. It was all so confusing.

"You'll probably be back unconscious in about twenty seconds, so I'll have to make this real quick," the woman said, acutely diagnosing Annabeth. "You were taken to the Hunters of Artemis. We created an antidote to Arachne's venom which we successfully administered to your wound. Given the extent of your poisoning, it's going to take some time before it's left your system completely. Good news is that you aren't going to die, thanks to your timely return to the present. Percy's here and safe," she added quickly, seeing as Annabeth's eyelids were almost closed. "Oh, and I'm Thalia. I'll be looking after –."

Annabeth slipped back into unconsciousness.

It wasn't as much of a struggle to regain consciousness the second time. Annabeth was still surrounded by the darkness, but she knew that she could get out of it, knew that when she had the urge to move, she could. There was something different about the void; something, not as blinding. She could almost see waves of black rippling around her. Annabeth was almost hypnotised by its beauty as she moved her fingers through the tendrils.

She was stronger. It was a wisp of strength, but it was there when she opened her eyes again. There was feeling under her fingertips, the softness of the sheets against her skin, the slight warmth of the sun slanting in from somewhere that was quickly followed by a cool breeze. And a parching scratch to the back of her throat. Thalia was in the same chair as before, her head lolling to the side as she slept. The same papers sat on the floor beside the chair, so Annabeth guessed it had only been a few hours since she first woke.

"Water," Annabeth struggled to say.

She tried again but it only sounded like a rasped breath. It did, however, get Thalia's attention, who lurched awake. She took a few seconds for her brain to kick in, but she was grinning when she spotted Annabeth's gaze.

"Two from two, you're doing well," Thalia complimented.

"Water," Annabeth repeated, getting a little more oomph behind the word. She would've gestured, but her arms weren't cooperating.

"Sorry, what?"

"Water."

Finally getting enough strength to croak out her request and for it be audible, Thalia scurried for the pitcher and cup, citing the healer predicting Annabeth's dehydration.

"How are you feeling?" Thalia asked.

"Heavy," Annabeth responded, trying again to lift her arms but failing. She settled for a lifting her fingers but they merely twitched in response.

Thalia smiled. "A side effect, I think. I can't believe you're actually alive, and awake."

"Makes two of us," Annabeth sighed tiredly. "I owe the Hunters a great debt."

"You don't need to worry about that. Get some rest. No offense, but you still look awful. I think only the people that came from that prim princess' place can pull off dark shadows under the eyes."

Annabeth's lips twitched. "You're probably right, Lightning Daughter."

The smile on Thalia's face vanished. "What did you call me?"

"Lightning Daughter," she repeated, her voice slurring with fatigue. "Thalia the Lightning Daughter."

"No one has called me that in a long time," she admitted warily.

"I know. I saw the reason why you left that name behind. Were you really once close friends with Luke?"

Thalia paled slightly. "Did he say something? I wouldn't have thought he would bring that up. I certainly – wait, you said 'saw'. You're gonna have to explain that to me."

Annabeth closed her eyes, struggling to re-open them. "It's a symptom from the Crystal."

"Symptom? You know, I'm just gonna …"

Annabeth opened her eyes to see Thalia shift towards the door, opening it. "Naomi!" she called from the doorway. A Hunter with short, ash blonde hair appeared, giving Annabeth a surprised, but friendly smile when their eyes met. "Get someone to find Percy. Now, if possible," she said. Annabeth could tell she was trying to sound calm, but it was straining under her panic. The smile she gave Annabeth as Naomi disappeared was as strained as her voice.

"Percy will have to fill you in," Annabeth reassured her sleepily. "Because I'm about to pass out, again."

Annabeth was asleep and dreaming before Thalia could ask another question.

Annabeth watched the images that were shown to her, getting more insight into strangers that weren't strangers, acquaintances that were becoming friends, and a specific blood relative that was the subject of a lot of her current troubles. She found she was slowly gaining control of what she could see, focusing in on one particular person revealed all the Crystal had wanted her to see, though the images jumped back and forth through time, creating another puzzle that Annabeth had to try and piece together.

As she pried her eyes open, the last few images faded, allowing her to orientate herself back into reality. Her throat was dry, there was a dull ache across her abdomen that hadn't been there before, and her hands and feet were tingling but that all faded when her eyes met Percy's. His expression was mixed between wondrous and disbelieving, clouded by a thin layer of unshed tears as a hesitant smile played around his mouth. That mouth moved towards hers, lightly pressing against hers in feather-like tenderness, causing her own eyes to well with tears.

"Oh, hey," he said shakily when he spotted her tears. He gently kissed her forehead, bushing her hair tenderly. "No tears for me, okay? Even happy ones."

"Then no tears for me," she told him. Her arm was heavy, but she was determined to lift it and wipe a tear that had dropped from his cheek.

"I'll try to remember that," he agreed with a smile, leaning into her touch.

They continued to gaze at each other in silence, just finding comfort in the other. Percy gently stroked her hair, his other hand cupped over hers. Eventually her stomach rumbled, breaking the silence, causing them both to chuckle. Percy called out for Naomi, who returned with a small bowl of steaming broth. Annabeth eyed the bowl in Percy's hand, both of them knowing she wouldn't be able to feed herself but she would die of shame if she was hand-fed. Swallowing her pride, Annabeth let a very cautious Percy feed her.

"Thalia told me something very interesting," he said softly, after she had eaten her fill.

"I didn't mean to startle her."

"You should do it more often, it's rather amusing," he said with a smile before sobering. "Do I need to fetch Will?"

"There's no headaches," she assured him. "It's, probably best described as an echo, an after-effect, but somehow clearer than the original."

Percy frowned in thought, his thumb gently caressing Annabeth's hand while he held it. "The venom was a neurological weapon, yes? So maybe it's combining with the dampener Will gave you and somehow helping you process the visions said to come from the Crystal."

"Not just a pretty face, then?" she said cheekily.

"No, it's a perk," he replied with a smile, bringing her hand up to his lips. His brow furrowed in concern, brushing stray hairs from her forehead again. "You should rest."

"That's all I have been doing," she complained as she yawned. "I'm ready to be up and moving again."

Percy smiled knowingly. "How about tell me everything else you've been shown, and if you stay awake until you finish, then I'll spring you from here?"

Annabeth agreed, settling further into her pillows as she relayed everything she could remember. Percy paled a little when she recalled his memories about his Mother and her sickness, and his Father and their history. He relaxed when Annabeth assured him she didn't care about their parent's animosity and he laughed and kissed her when she flat out refused to call him the 'Pirate Prince'.

Despite her determination to remain awake, she could feel herself slowly slipping. Percy could see the fatigue taking over, and was smiling as her voice started to slur, her eyelids refusing to stay open. She was halfway through discussing Piper's memories when she drifted off, her last clear thought on the warmth of his hand on hers.

Little by little, Annabeth felt her strength return, and her dreams from the Crystal fade. In place of her dreams came her irritability at being confined to a bed. Irritability and frustration. In the week following waking from her coma she could sit up, eat meagre meals sparingly and gangly move her arms on her own but those small actions had Annabeth weak and tired, needing to sleep to regain her energy. She desperately wanted to walk, to train, but as the healer kept reminding her, it was a miracle that she even survived, and it would take time for her body to fully recover.

So, Annabeth waited until the healer had done her daily check-in, waited until Piper, who Annabeth met both in person and in her visions, was keeping her company before she attempted walking. Piper alone recognised Annabeth's determination as both a strength and a severe headache. Rather than leave Annabeth to attempt physical recovery on her own and undoubtedly injure herself further, she helped her. The first few times were a disaster, Annabeth could admit it, especially after she got caught inches from her face hitting the floor on numerous occasions, but she knew she was getting stronger, even if Thalia strenuously told her otherwise when she caught some of Annabeth's earlier attempts.

"We should call it a day," Piper suggested.

"I can make one, more, step," Annabeth argued through gritted teeth.

Sweat beaded on her temples, her hands clenched in a white knuckled grip. Her goal was the chair at the end of the room, a mere four steps. Piper hovered at her side, hands half raised, ready.

"Are you sure you don't want that cane?" Piper offered.

Annabeth glared at her. There was no way she was going to walk aided with a cane like an elderly villager. Her pride would never allow it. She was going to walk unaided or keep trying until she could, regardless of how many times she fell. Smirking innocently at the glare, Piper raised her hands in surrender.

Annabeth knew she could make it, she had made it with Piper's supporting hand several times, but it was time she did it on her own. Her legs were shaking but she forced her right one to push forward, her feet skimming the cool floor surface. She was ready to move her left, shifting her weight, but it was too much for her right leg to solely bare and it buckled. Piper caught her, cradling her fall with a soft grunt.

Frustrated, but not defeated, Annabeth leant against Piper's chest, ignoring the sharp pins and needles pain in her legs, and the scratches caused by Piper's grasping fingers. She patted Piper's arms that were around her chest, letting her know she was okay and she didn't have to be gripped so tightly. Piper relaxed only a little.

"I nearly had it," Annabeth said, exhausted from the effort.

"At least tell me we didn't bust the stitches again," Piper panted, slightly winded from Annabeth's weight.

"We're good," Annabeth confirmed, after probing her abdomen. A relieved sigh came from behind her ear. The options for their excuses every time her wound was re-opened were starting to slim.

Piper shuffled away, helping Annabeth scoot back so they were sitting next to each other on the ground, their backs leaning against the bed. Annabeth gazed down at her stretched-out legs in front of her, urging her toes to wiggle just to assure herself she still could.

"You're not a liability," Piper told her quietly. "And you're not helpless because you're still recovering."

"Tell that to Percy," Annabeth muttered.

"Percy's overprotective when it comes to the people he loves. He just wants you to be able to rest without any extra stress. Especially what you went through, what you are still going through," she added pointedly.

Annabeth sighed, watching her toes wiggle. Once Percy knew she was awake and out of danger, he had refused to leave her side. While it warmed Annabeth to know that someone cared that much about her, being confined to a bed wore her patience thin. That, and the increased amount of information she should not know that had come to her when she closed her eyes. Sensing her discomfort, Percy shortened his visits, letting Piper, Silena, who was introduced to Annabeth shortly after she had arrived with Chris, Clarisse, Will and Nico, take the reins in helping her process.

Processing trauma wasn't Annabeth's way, preferring to push it aside or squash it to the dark recesses of her mind and focus on training harder, faster so she could beat it the next time. Irrational as it was, she knew that emotional trauma could not be conquered by any physical means, but habits were hard to break. Having no way physical way to distract her, Annabeth was forced to confront her demons; and she had a lot of them.

Arachne was defeated. Annabeth's constant nightmarish enemy was gone, but not before giving her a lingering token of remembrance that pained if Annabeth shifted the wrong way. The Mother of Spiders had been a formidable foe, one that Annabeth couldn't have overcome if not for Percy, but she only got so close because of a betrayal that cut even deeper than her wound. Luke's blatant admission of knowing who sired her, charming her when she was at her most vulnerable and then using her loyalty and feelings for his own gain broke her heart almost as much as her pride.

She had been tricked, fooled into thinking he cared for her, fooled into believing in a cause that was riddled with selfish intentions. The Elites were gone, save for a rumoured surviving few that were forced to scatter. Annabeth knew she would have to return to the place she had once proudly called home to collect the remainder of her things, though not to live. No, she was done calling herself an Elite. She had given them everything, and in the end was vilified as if her loyalty meant nothing. A sentence handed down by their power-hungry leader.

Luke's life came to her while she was unconscious. She saw a once happy childhood slowly fester and turn abusive. Blamed for the ailing health of his Mother, his Father was at the core of Luke's insecurities, having been constantly scolded and told he would never be good enough, never worth the money spent on him, never to amount to anything of worth. What was once good was twisted into a poisonous need to prove his Father's words were wrong. He would gain power at any cost, even if it meant betraying his closest friends. Even though it explained his behaviour, Annabeth couldn't think of him without feeling the sting.

And that wasn't even counting the strangeness of the other people's lives she had inadvertently delved into. After hearing of her peculiar dreams, her friends – she dared to call them that – were taken aback by the information she knew about each of them. After several awkward moments, she decided to keep most of what she had seen to herself unless those curious asked. She was unsure what she was supposed to do with the memories of past events, though evidently the Crystal had some purpose in showing her.

"You never ask me what I've seen about you," Annabeth commented.

Piper looked to her. "Would it change anything? I mean, I have seen you naked, so I think our friendship is pretty much sealed," she added jokingly.

For the sake of her dignity, Annabeth had been trying to forget the embarrassment of not being able to bathe herself, though it seemed Piper and Silena weren't about to let her pass it off as merely a horrid dream anytime soon. She wished she had been as unfazed about it as they were. If only what she was going to bring up was as light-hearted.

"I saw Jason's death," she admitted softly.

Piper's smile fell, her eyes getting a faraway look as she glanced towards the wall. "You've seen Thalia with Luke, Silena and Charlie when he was alive, the massacre at Reyna's village, Percy with Rachel, a lot of Percy," she corrected with a small smirk. Annabeth felt her face heat, regretting confiding her dreams with Piper. "All things in our past. We've lived through it and moved on. I've had time to move on. I don't understand what difference it would make in knowing what you've seen." Piper reached out and took Annabeth's hand. "I know you believe you were shown these things for a reason, so focus on that," she told Annabeth. "I'll be here for whatever comes next. I should get you up before someone comes." She got to her feet. "Ready?"

With a deep breath, Annabeth nodded and braced as Piper lifted her to her feet. A shift in balance, a grunt or two and she was sinking back into the mattress, shuffling to adjust her position and rearrange the pillows. She sighed as her legs ached in fatigue, her eyes drifting to the chair at the end on the room. She vowed to reach it the next time, regardless of how many falls she had to endure.

"Bad time?"

Malcolm smiled at her, pushing his leaning frame off the doorway to join her. Piper excused herself to get them food. Settling against the pillows, Annabeth didn't miss the way Malcolm's gaze trailed after Piper, nor the way she looked back over her shoulder, then look confused as to why.

"Depends on the news you give me," she replied, accepting his hug.

"I already told you, until we have some indication where Octavian is and if he's tracking you this way, they're planning blindly." He brought the chair Annabeth had been trying to reach closer before taking a seat.

Annabeth's half-brother had rushed to the compound when word had gotten to him that a true-born Athenian had been gravely injured while defeating their biggest foe. His sudden arrival raised several alarms, and it took Malcolm some time to assure them news of Annabeth's current residence with the Hunters hadn't been leaked. He eventually admitted to having set up connections in multiple villages so he could keep an ear to the ground on fellow Athenians. Thalia had to be calmed and convinced not to arrest Malcolm while he explained the process of his communications and how Octavian couldn't possibly intercept it.

Their reunion had been teary and long, having been years since their only encounter. Malcolm had grown considerably, though his body was thin in build, he had filled out. He regaled her with his tales since they had met, having travelled all over setting up networks of communication as he searched for Athenians in an attempt to keep them safe from the clutches of Arachne. Annabeth felt a little selfish and ashamed when she divulged her own adventures with the Elites, but Malcolm had been delighted nonetheless.

"Then tell me about our Mother," Annabeth said. Malcolm look resigned, even a little guilty. He had the last time she brought up the subject. "How could you not tell me?"

He pulled the dark frames from his nose, cleaning them on a small rag before placing them back on the bridge of his small, but crooked, nose. His eyes, the same colour as Annabeth's, met hers as he answered. "She didn't want me to."

"You could've stayed," she said, upset. "We could've found a way to avoid Arachne together."

Malcolm bowed his head. "I wanted to, I swear I did. But I was afraid, Annabeth. I thought that having two Athenians travelling together would be a larger beacon to Arachne. I didn't think the two of us, being so young, would be able to outwit the Mother of Spiders. I'm sorry."

"I never asked, how did you find me?"

"Our Mother," he answered. He looked a little confused by her question, as if he had assumed Annabeth had already known.

Annabeth blinked in surprise. "You met her? Spoke to her?"

"For a few minutes," he nodded. He ran a hand through his loose blonde curls, a constant habit Annabeth suspected was due to a recent haircut. "Your Father warned her that you had run away. He also mentioned that you had started asking questions about her that he wasn't prepared to answer so he assumed you'd left to find those answers. Mother knew she had to find you first before Arachne caught wind of your curiosity and set out to hunt you down. One of her contacts had tracked you to the village and alerted her that Arachne was on her way."

Annabeth recalled the screaming man at the altar and shuddered, realising he was the contact sent to tail her. "What else did Athena say?"

"Very little. Our Mother was a straight-to-the-point type of person. You were to be given a basic summary in order to understand who you were and the dangers that came with it. What you did with that information and what path you chose for yourself would be up to you, as it had been for me. You were more resourceful than I was expecting, a lot more than I was when I ventured out on my own. She must have seen your potential and guided you in the chance you would be the Athenian to end Arachne's vendetta."

"But I didn't," Annabeth said ashamedly. "Percy did."

"But you survived what was thought an impossibility," he insisted. "I talked to the healer. Yes, they developed an antidote, but its survival rate was low due to the strain it causes on the body fighting the venom. You held on, you lived." Malcolm was smiling at her.

"Why didn't she ever tell me she was there?" Annabeth demanded, almost whining. "I saw her, Malcolm. The Crystal showed me. She was watching over me this whole time."

That Crystal reveal had been the biggest surprise of them all. At first, it was the pickpocket that Annabeth followed and then learned from. Then a traveller that had patched Annabeth up following a raid mission for Luke that had went sideways; Annabeth would've bled out and been caught if she hadn't been found and taken to a nearby farming village. Then there were other smaller incidences; a stranger in a tavern watching from under a hood, another traveller that took an interest as they passed, a stall owner handing her a loaf of fresh bread as a token.

Then the scenes were washed away and replaced with another. A mother was cradling her baby in a small candlelit room. The mother was gently rocking in a chair next to a recently stripped bed. Annabeth guessed she had only just given birth. She kissed her babe softly on the forehead before murmuring with tears in her eyes and voice, "wherever you go, know that I will watch over you, and protect you, even if I cannot be with you right now. My darling Annabeth." The mother's eyes came into focus, a sharp and intelligent grey, which then morphed into the face of Annabeth's pickpocket, then the traveller, then the stranger. Each with the exact grey eyes; Malcolm's eyes, Annabeth's eyes, courtesy of their Mother.

"Why couldn't she just let me know?" she asked softly, sadly.

"I don't know, Annabeth," Malcolm murmured. "I suppose she thought it was safer."

"I thought she hated me," she admitted. "I thought she tossed me aside, left me because I was a mistake." Malcolm took her hand. "Now I find out it was all out of love. It would've been easier if she could've gone after Arachne herself."

"She couldn't break the ancient terms of a blood vengeance, Annabeth. If she had, then we wouldn't just be hunted by Arachne, but by every mercenary and town guard we encountered."

"It just seems so …" Annabeth struggled to find the right word.

"I know," Malcolm said in understanding.

"From one fighting one crazed psychopath to the next," Annabeth sighed, gazing down at her still healing body. She met Malcolm's gaze. "I need to be ready."

"You will be," he assured her. "We'll do this, okay? Together."