Hello everyone!

Thank you Daydreaming Stories and S.W Nightingale for your reviews! I'm happy you guys are liking the story so far.

So, without further ado, let's continue!

The plot is heavily inspired by marvel and the characters belong to Rick Riordan.

Chapter 3

Present-day

Birds singing.

The same melody.

The same notes.

Annabeth opened her eyes and found herself looking at the ceiling of their perfect room. Everything was as she had imagined.

Then why was she still missing something?

With a less enthusiastic attitude than the previous day, Annabeth stood up from her bed and went to open the window again. She took a moment to breathe the fresh spring air, before looking for the right clothes on her dresser and then taking a shower to start yet another day in her perfect life. Today she found a red bandana in her dresser, and she decided to use it for work. To spice things a little bit.

"Good morning," she said without even looking at the new husband today. She went to grab a cup of coffee and noticed, out of the corner of her eye, short blond hair over a tall head.

She held up a deception sigh.

"Good morning," he replied. "I made you some breakfast. I wish I could sit down and eat it with you…"

"But you're late," Annabeth finished for him. She took a sip from the black coffee and gave him a forced smile. "It's okay. Have a good day at work."

He nodded uncomfortably, before grabbing his jacket, his hat, and then going out through the front door. Annabeth let her smile fall and she took a deep breath. She didn't even bother to read the newspaper that day.

Grabbing the car keys, Annabeth gave one last look at the beautiful house before closing the door and heading to their garage.

"Good morning, neighbor!" Christine, the dark-haired woman next door, greeted her from over her door.

"Hi, Chris," Annabeth greeted back, giving her a polite smile.

"Say…" her short neighbor started saying, getting off her porch and approaching her side of the bush. She had a really beautiful face, and Annabeth felt taken back by its beauty. Why hadn't she noticed it before? "Billy and I were thinking about inviting you and your husband for dinner tonight. We haven't had a proper reunion together since you two came into town."

Annabeth blinked. That was new.

"Oh, how kind of you," she replied readjusting her long skirt, so it looked nicely pressed. "Um, let me talk to him and I'll let you know…"

"Oh, that won't be necessary, darling," Christine said with a high-pitched voice. "I already talked to him when he was on his way out. He agrees completely." She looked sideways as if about to say a secret. "Between you and I, you got a really good catch there. A very handsome fella."

Annabeth smiled, uncomfortably. "Yeah, thank you." She opened the driver's door. "See you tonight then." In a swift motion, Annabeth turned on the engine and drove away from her small neighborhood in town.

She passed many of the buildings she had designed on her way to work. The amphitheater, the library, the gardens, the library, the Parthenon, the agora… With every building she passed, a sense of accomplishment grew inside her heart. She had done it. She had built the city of her dreams. A city that would last eons. A city where people could be safe and could have a peaceful life, far away from wars and problems.

It was her sanctuary.

She parked her car near the children's playground and watched them play with each other for a moment. Maybe, one day, she would have her own, and they would grow up in a safe place with a calm life…unlike her.

A sudden pain came over her head and she pinched her forehead for a few seconds. Why was she was thinking that? Of course, she had had a good childhood…and she had her whole future ahead of her. She shouldn't have to worry about that. Her headache went away as quickly as it had appeared, and she continued with her day.

Her office was a beautiful cubicle made of marble and windows. She had an amazing view of the Agora and its adjacent gardens. She watched families in the midst of having a wonderful day out, a group of friends chatting carelessly, and even a group of the art school drawing the silhouette of one of the marble statues.

The morning went by in the blink of an eye. She had sat down as soon as she had arrived and had designed the new residential concept until it was time for the meeting with her colleagues. They all sat down on a big terrace with an amazing view of the city, as they talked about their upcoming projects.

The radio was softly playing the new album by Nina Simone. Gods, how she loved the sixties. There was a variety of fruits, cheeses, bread, and desserts distributed on the wooden table. The abundance was clear, and their colleagues were very much enjoying themselves as they helped themselves.

"I think we should plan ahead for the children," Paul, a tall skinny guy with red hair, suggested as he filled their glass cups with fine wine. He was a dedicated dad of two children. "We need to leave more spaces for parks and meeting points."

"I agree," Martha, the oldest one, said. "But the town is rapidly growing, and we're running out of space. We should consider building a proper hospital before we ran out of parcels."

"That's a wonderful idea," Sarah, the major, added. She was always seeking Annabeth's council to handle day-to-day decisions in the city. "What do you think, Annabeth?"

"I think we can work with both ideas," she agreed. "If we learn how to make flexible, polyvalent buildings, I think we can economize enough space to have both things for our city." She thought about the new concept she was working on. "I'd like to also keep the spaces as green as possible. Nature is an important aspect in our children's lives…"

"Oh!" Paul interrupted her, with excitement in his eyes. "What about a camp? Kids had always loved those. We can even…ouch!"

His exclamation of pain had been the result of Sarah hitting him, not so discreetly, with her elbow.

But it was too late.

Annabeth had shut down at the word camp and she was now looking at the table with a faraway stare. "Camp?" she repeated the word, slowly, as if it had been cursed. "I've been to one," she started to say.

Martha laughed forcefully. "That's impossible, Annabeth. There are no camps in New Athens," she looked at the other two for support, but Paul was looking at his food with nervousness, and Sarah was almost shanking in place.

But Annabeth hadn't lived in New Athens all her life… right?

"It was a special one…" Annabeth continued to say, ignoring Martha's comment. "I-I spent a lot of time there," she stopped and grabbed her head which was beginning to ache. "I-I…ugh." She closed her eyes.

Her head was throbbing as if something, buried deep down, was desperately trying to get to the surface of her brain. And, without warning, images of a place started to feel her brain. It was a very blurry image, but she tried hard to focus on it.

She felt something inside of her expanding itself. As if a flame she was just yet discovering, suddenly acquired a life of its own. The volume of Nina Simone's voice was now diminishing and something that sounded like static started to creep into the radio. She felt everything froze around her and when she was able to open her eyes, she realized everything was indeed frozen around her. Her colleagues were still as a statue, some frozen in a smile, others shooting concerning looks to the others.

Annabeth's heart was in her throat.

What was happening?

That's when she heard it. She snapped her head towards the radio, as a different voice started to get mixed up with Simone's. At first, it was too quiet and vague. Annabeth closed her eyes and focused on it. She felt the flame inside expanding again and reaching for the voice. And the next time it spoke, it was loud and clear.

"Can you hear me?"

Annabeth opened her eyes and looked at the radio with a shocked expression.

"Annabeth," the voice repeated. "You need to wake up."

…

But I don't want to wake up, a voice answered inside her.

Suddenly, the flame began turning itself down, as quickly as it had started growing. The voice of Neil Simone started to play once more, but the voice didn't give up as easily. It continued talking, being intercepted sometimes by the static.

"Don't…can't…We…listen…help. We're sending help!"

After the last lines were pronounced, everything around Annabeth came back to life in the blink of an eye. Simone was back on the radio, the chatter in the garden was once again being heard and her workmates had resumed their conversation. The only weird thing is that they were now talking about a totally different subject, and the food at the table was almost gone. She realized she had missed a section of her afternoon. As if someone had edited out of a movie…

"More wine?" Martha offered with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Annabeth took a deep breath, before smiling and pushing her glass away. "No, thank you. I think I'm already feeling the effect of the alcohol and I still have a lot of work to do."

The people at the table laughed with strain at her joke and an uncomfortable aura fell on the table. Some were sharing uneasy looks.

"Well," Annabeth said, getting off the table. "We better get to work, right?"

As if fueled with sudden energy, her colleagues all stood up from the table and nodded in synchronicity, in a way that reminded her of little ants, as they each left to resume their tasks. Annabeth looked one last time at the radio with a frown on her face.

What had just happened?

…

The drive back home was a torturous one.

Usually, after a long day of work, Annabeth would get home, eat something, watch tv, read a chapter of her book, and then go to bed before her husband even got home. Mornings were already enough awkwardness for her with her husband, but now she would have to endure a whole dinner with him and their neighbors.

But that's what perfect neighbors would do, right?

It's just a night, Annabeth, the architect told herself as she drove through the last few streets before she reached her calmed neighborhood. It's just dinner. A little bit of eating, a little bit of conversation, then we'll say goodbye, and then back home.

She watched as the sun settled on the horizon. Crazy thing was, that she was more scared of her husband than of her neighbors. But she was being silly. It was the man she had chosen to marry. Annabeth could be many things, but she was always objective when it came to big decisions. Therefore, she knew her election of the husband must have been okay for her to marry the guy.

Then what was she so scared about?

She turned the radio off as she entered her house's street.

She had always thought that the suburbs of New Athens's needed a good renovation. They were…not Greek at all. Just the classical sixties' houses, with a cul-de-sac, oversized garages, and weird colors. She wanted to do with the neighborhood the same she had done with the center of the city. Annabeth added the issue to her list of Things to Do.

When she parked the car at the entrance of her house, her neighbor was already waving at her from her porch. Annabeth grabbed her purse from the passenger's seat before taking a deep breath full of patience and leaving the safety of her cream-colored VW Beetle.

The slightly chilly air of spring hit her face and she welcomed it, gratefully. It helped her to clear her mind. Just a dinner, she thought, and simple and ordinary dinner. No harm in going along with it, right?

With that thought, Annabeth walked along the sidewalk, until she found herself in her neighbor's front garden.

"Howdy!" Christine greeted her with a cheerful smile. She descended the stairs of her porch with her dark hair, full of hairspray, neatly pulled back in a bun. She had a beautiful purple dress and incredible silver heels. Annabeth felt a little self-conscious of her not-so-formal attire. She tried to, discreetly, adjust her white buttoned shirt and black long skirt. Her black simple heels were not as high as Christine's, but Annabeth felt comfortable in them. She hoped the red bandana wasn't too informal for the occasion.

She let herself be guided by her host, as the latter put her hand on her shoulder and rushed her to get inside her home. "Good Afternoon, Christine. I hope I'm not too late…"

"Nonsense," her neighbor said, closing the entrance door behind them and getting Annabeth's purse from her hands before putting it on the hanging rack. "You're just in time. Now we just have to wait for your husband to arrive."

"Oh, he's not here yet?" Annabeth asked with faked disappointment. Not that she didn't want to spend time with her husband or anything…she just wanted some time alone with her neighbors.

"Sadly, no. But he was very excited to come today!"

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at the clock. "Was he?" For some strange reason, she couldn't picture the expression of happiness on her husband's face. It was as if the memory of him was an image of very bad resolution on her brain.

"Oh, yeah," Christine cleaned her hands of the apron before looking at the clock and frowning. "I better go back to the kitchen before my husband, Bill sets fire to the whole house."

Annabeth watched the beautiful set up on the dining table and she cursed herself mentally for forgetting to buy a small gift for her guests. "Do you need any help?" she asked as she watched Christine walk to the kitchen.

"You're our guest!" she said opening the swinging door. "We couldn't ask you to do any work. But feel free to join us and we'll have a good conversation while everything is ready." Then she disappeared through the door, and Annabeth found herself alone in the living room.

She took a few moments to admire her neighbor's house. It was simple as hers, only that the living room was full of wool decorations and family pictures. Without wanting to, Annabeth neared the chimney where there was a vase with flowers and a wedding picture standing on its upper shelf.

She couldn't help but smile at the joy of the newlyweds. They were on a dancefloor, shooting each other complicit smiles with their arms wrapped around the other. Wrinkling her nose, she deviated her attention from the picture.

Why didn't she have a picture like that in her own home? Surely, she had shared the lovey-dovey smile with her husband as they posed for a picture, right? She searched for any memories in her brain that could remind her of her own wedding. Just when she started to grow frustrated at the lack of them, a loud noise was heard from the kitchen and Annabeth remembered she needed to be polite with her hosts.

Gracefully, she made her way to the kitchen. Before opening the door, Annabeth heard voices on the other side, arguing. She hesitated for a few seconds. She didn't want to intrude, but at the same time, she considered eavesdropping as rude behavior.

So, she decided that knocking would be the best way to act.

The voices immediately quieted down before a man, Bill, cleared his throat and said, "Come in."

Annabeth pushed the door slowly and found a chaotic scene in front of her eyes. There were splashes of what Annabeth guessed was tomato sauce on the floor, at least three burned whole chickens on the counter, and a new one in the oven. A set of dirty pots was piled over the sink and at least a dozen of utensils were splayed over the counter.

Gary and Christine were both standing over the central island cutting what looked like olives for the salad. Christine was neat and clean…Bill had greasy spots all over his shirt.

Annabeth frowned without meaning to. Usually, everyone in New Athens was organized and clean. The messy scene was disruptive for her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time someone had caused such a disaster in her-the world.

The couple didn't seem to mind however that their guest had seen the chaos in the kitchen. Just then, Annabeth realized she had never socialized with her neighbors before. That morning had been a special one because she couldn't frankly remember if Christine had ever said hi to her since she came to town. Actually, she didn't remember seeing Christine's or Gary's face.

"You must be Annabeth," Bill greeted with an honest smile. He had a small, well-organized mustache and round googly eyeglasses. His brown hair was short, and his brown eyes were hiding below hairy eyebrows. He looked nice. He rounded the island before standing in front of her and offering her his greasy hand. "I'm William, Bill for short. Nice to finally meet you properly."

Annabeth saw an honest and kind gleam in his eyes. She usually had a way of reading people and she knew immediately that Bill was a nice guy. She accepted his hand, ignoring the slippery feeling from the oil he had used on the chicken. She smiled back, "Nice to meet you too."

Annabeth could have sworn she saw Christine rolling her eyes out of the corner of her eye, but when she turned, her neighbor was as smiley as ever. "We're trying a new recipe," Christine announced as an excuse for the mess. "We wanted to cause a good impression."

Annabeth simply nodded before going to the sink and rising her hands, trying to get the grease out of them. She wanted to give a perfect impression too. "It's a beautiful home," she said returning to the isle, as their hosts continued on with their tasks. "Are you sure you don't need any help?" she asked as she watched Bill struggling with a tomato.

Christine shook her head. "Don't worry. We have everything handled."

Annabeth decided not to ask again, for avoiding being unrespectful…even if she could already smell the chicken burning in the oven.

"So, tell us about you and your husband," Drew asked as she put the salad ingredients on a bowl. Wait…Drew? No, her name is Christine, Annabeth reminded herself. She was glad she hadn't made the mistake of confusing her host's name out loud. Billy stopped cutting abruptly before sending a worried look to his wife. But Christine paid no mind.

"Uhm, what do you want to know?" Annabeth demanded as she looked uncomfortably out of the window. She wasn't used to talking about her love life. She'd rather talk about her work or her future projects. The sun was already hidden by the mountains, and a few stars were now visible in the dark sky. Billy took a break from his assigned duty and started to turn the lights on around the house.

"Well, your story," Christine replied, finally getting the chicken out of the oven.

"Our story…" Annabeth repeated the words in her mouth, but they had a sour taste.

"Yeah. Where did you meet, how did you guys fall in love, how did he propose?"

Annabeth cleared her throat. "Well, I-… He…We…"

Why couldn't she get the words out of her mouth? Surely, she knew the story by heart. She tried to look for their story in her brain. Her eyebrows knitted together in concentration and she stared at the burned chicken as she looked everywhere in her mind for the answers to the questions of her nosy neighbor.

"Everything okay?" Christine asked carefully as if she was talking to a child.

Annabeth looked at her hands. They were sweating and her throat was now dry. Why couldn't she remember?

"Well, then…" Christine continued. "What is his name?"

His name.

His damn name.

Annabeth couldn't remember it.

How was that possible.

Now is not the time to lose your head, Annabeth thought, get it together Chase.

"May I use your restroom?" Annabeth asked suddenly, surprising her host.

"Sure thing," Christine said, giving her a worried look. She signaled the door. "Down the corridor, second door to your left."

"Thank you," Annabeth said before following the directions and locking herself in the guests' bathroom. She splashed some cold water on her face, before drying it and looking at her terrified face in the mirror.

What was happening to her? Why did she agree to that stupid dinner? She could have followed her perfect day as normal…but no. Her neighbor had to get creative. Nobody had ever done that to her since her arrival to New Athens. What was she thinking?

It was too late to back down anyway. She didn't know why she didn't have any memories of her married life, but she wasn't letting that spoil her life. She would just make up a story to satisfy her neighbor's curiosity, and with a little bit of luck, her husband wouldn't even make it to dinner, making even easier the task of coming up with a story.

Yeah, that was the plan. Everything would work out at the end as always.

Filling herself with courage, Annabeth stepped out of the restroom and returned to the kitchen, where the host was already grabbing the plates and taking them to the dining table.

"Oh, Annabeth," Christine called when she entered again into the chaotic room. "Can you take the salad to the table?"

Annabeth sighed with relief. Maybe her neighbor had already forgotten those stupid questions.

"Absolutely," she said, stepping aside to let Christine exit the kitchen through the swaying door. She picked the glass bowl and neared the door to join her hosts at the table.

But just then, the sound of the doorbell shook the entire house and Annabeth stood frozen in front of the wooden door. She waited for a few seconds as she heard the sound of footsteps, followed by the front door opening and people greeting each other.

"Annabeth!" Christine called from the living room. "Your husband is here."

Her blood turned to liquid ice and her heart stopped beating in her chest. That's impossible, she thought. She never saw him at night. He was just there to warm up her bed in the mornings and to have someone wish her a good day before she left to work. Her husband wasn't supposed to be with her at night.

It was impossible.

She heard the conversation move a little deeper into the house and she knew that they were gonna look for her in a matter of seconds in she didn't come out. Just a dinner, she thought, tomorrow morning everything will be back to normal.

Taking one last breath, Annabeth tighten her grip on the salad bowl and stepped out of the kitchen. There were now three people in the living room. Their hosts were facing her, but the third person had his back towards her.

The first thing she noticed was the black hair. Beautiful, messy, curly, short, black hair. Even though it was impossible. She was almost sure she had gotten a blond husband that morning. Her heart, however, sped up at the sight of it. It was, after all, the hair she had been waiting to see each morning after she woke up. She felt her whole body awakening at the thought of it, and a tingling sensation settled down into her skin.

"Oh, Annabeth!" Christine greeted showing her a bottle of wine in her hands. "You haven't told me you had sent him to fetch a beautiful gift to us."

Just then, the third person turned around and Annabeth gasped.

It was as if every nerve, every vein, every muscle had just woken up from a deep slumber. Her breathing became agitated, but for the first time in a long while, Annabeth felt she could breathe properly. She felt light and weightless as if the sky had just been lifted up from her shoulders.

And it was all because of his eyes.

Sea-green eyes.

They looked like the ocean in the morning, when the waking sun shined through the calm waters. Green and blue dancing with each other, trying to assert dominance, but both failing at it.

But then he smiled, and her mind exploded inside of her brain. She could barely register the bowl falling from her hands and crashing into the floor, spreading its contents and broken glass all over the parquet. She grabbed her head in agony, as a kaleidoscope of memories invaded her sight.

Memories of stolen kisses long make-out sessions, complicit looks, death-defying situations, declarations of love…memories of another life flooded her head. She felt inscrutable pain: a knife on her shoulder, a broken ankle, thousands of cuts and bruises, the emptiness of her soul as someone close to her dies… but she also felt an aching and profound love, begging to be freed from her mind. Infinite love for someone.

No, not for someone.

For him.

She winced as her head throbbed painfully. She needed to neutralize it. She needed to bury it again. But it was too late. It was all out.

No, I can still try.

As if hearing her request, Annabeth felt the flame growing back on her chest. It acted like a vacuum, taking away all the memories and the pain. However, there was another power preventing the flame from consuming everything, and after what felt like years, the fire died down from exhaustion.

Finally, Annabeth removed her hands from her face.

She opened her eyes, and she found herself sitting on the couch of her nosy neighbor. Three sets of eyes were looking worriedly at her. But she only cared about one of them.

"Hey," a strong but smooth voice called her, and Annabeth found herself looking into gorgeous sea-green eyes. Now that she could look clearly at him, she realized he had the complexion of one of the Greek statues that were scattered all around the gardens close to the Agora. His skin was tan, his jaw was defined, and, even wearing a formal suit, Annabeth could notice his strong muscles.

However, his eyes were the most important thing for her.

He was kneeling in front of her, looking intently at her face, and she had to try hard not to blush. His hands were placed at each side of her, and they twitched a bit when she looked at them. Somehow, she knew he wanted to use them to comfort her, but he kept his distance.

She was that good at reading people.

"You okay?" he asked, softly.

Suddenly, the sound of glass breaking came back to her and Annabeth turned her head to see the pieces of what used to be the fancy glass salad bowl scattered around the floor, along with the poorly cut pieces of tomato and cucumber that Bill had cut out with much struggle.

Luckily, her hosts seemed more interested in her than in their fancy bowl.

"Yeah," she answered turning to look back into the man's eyes. "Just a strong headache." Her head had a minor throbbing from what had just happened, but it was manageable. She sighed before looking at Christine and Bill. "Sorry for the bowl."

"Don't worry about it," Bill said quickly. "It was scratched anyway."

Christine raised an eyebrow at him before giving her an uneasy smile. "That salad was horrible anyway." She then shot a look at the man kneeling in front of Annabeth. "You were lucky your husband was there to catch you before you fell to the ground."

The man looked sideways with an annoyed expression to Christine before focusing his eyes again on Annabeth's.

Annabeth blinked. Husband?

A sudden memory came up to her. She and the man in front of her were cuddled in what looked like a university's residence room. They had their arms around each other, both silently getting lost in each other's eyes as the rain hit the window beside them.

Then the name came to her.

Percy.

His name was Percy.

And of course, he was her husband.

He was, after all, the love of her life.

Annabeth looked deeper into his eyes and she felt she could be lost in them forever. However, she noticed a bit of anxiousness and agitation inside of them, and she knew she wanted to make those feelings go away.

She needed to reassure him.

Finally, Annabeth gave him a small smile and said, "Thanks for always catching me."

Just then, Annabeth noticed his shoulders relaxing and his jaw unclenching. A beautiful spark of light filled his eyes, and he gave her a smile that almost melted her heart.

"Always," he replied.

Annabeth could have stayed there and looked into his eyes forever. Something in them made her feel safe, loved, welcomed...she finally felt complete.

He was what she was missing.

"Well," Christine said clapping once in the air and giving them a mischievous smile. "Who wants to eat?"