Disclaimer: Y'all know the drill. I'm not Rick, Lin, a producer or publishing company owner or anything like that.

A/N: So… I just want to apologize in advance for what will likely be a pretty bad, short chapter. The thing is… I… was literally just being lazy. There. That's my excuse. I usually have the first POV done by Wednesday, but it's Wednesday now and I've got like fifteen minutes and I haven't written anything else but the words you're reading right now. Fun times. Anyway, prepare yourselves for the trainwreck of a chapter this will be.

Hamilton quote: "I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. Is this where it gets me, on my feet, several feet ahead of me? I see it coming, do I run or fire my gun or let it be? There is no beat, no melody." —Alexander Hamilton, The World Was Wide Enough.

Oh, boy. We got 8 minutes. Let's see what I can do.

Percy POV:

That night, Percy lay awake in his bed in the small apartment he and Grover shared. He hadn't told anyone about... Gabe. Ever. And now Annabeth knew. He hoped she wouldn't treat him any differently for it. That was his biggest fear about confessing to others about this weight he carried on his shoulders. Sometimes it felt like the sky was resting on his back, like he was the Titan Atlas of the Ancient Greek myths, forced to carry the weight of the sky.

Most days, Percy was okay. He'd come a really long way. He was no longer the scared twelve year old he used to be. But there were still a few traces, a few scars -inside and out- that stayed with him. That may never leave.

The scars that made faint white lines across his back, the resolution to never drink for fear he'd become like the monster that Gabe had been, the memories. The ones of the years spent in darkness, with the rare happy moment scattered in between.

And Percy sometimes hated himself for it. Sometimes. As his mother once said (which had soon become a famous quote from one of her books after she thought it sounded rather good), "The scars that make us vulnerable and scared and hurt are the things that make us different and beautiful. Humans are different because we can look at each other, we can say I feel your pain, and you feel mine. We can make connections, and hurt and heal, inside and out. Some of those scars will never leave us, that's true. And that's okay. Because we still live life to the fullest, even when some idiot thinks they can hold us back. Even when you hold yourself back. And that's okay, too."

It was really not that big of a deal. It was a small, itching thought in the back of his mind, trying to work it's way to the front. But Percy wasn't going to let it. Because Annabeth wouldn't treat him any different, this, this he knew. Because Annabeth was awesome like that.

Holding these comforting thoughts as a protection against the negative ones threatening to plague his mind with fear and worry, threatening to bring him back to where he started, he drifted, slowly, silently, off to sleep.

(A/N: Obligatory notice that I did not, in fact, write this whole half a chapter in 8 minutes. Here on out, I just did that a different time. (And now, folks, we have an all too common sighting of the TheWritingRavenus Maximus pretending people actually care about this))

The next morning, Percy woke up late. Not oh-this-is-so-nice-because-it's-a-day-off-and-I-got-some-real-sleep-thank-the-gods kind of late. Like oh-crap-I'm-late-to-work kind of late. He got up and quickly ran to get dressed. Once he was ready, Percy grabbed a piece of toast from the kitchen, and was about to run out the door when he saw Grover's sleeping form, lying on his bed.

Percy groaned. Percy ran quickly to Grover, and shook him awake.

"Grover! Come on, we're late!"

Grover quickly bolted upright. "FOOD!" He yelled.

"Grover!" Percy exclaimed.

He looked at Percy sheepishly. "Sorry 'bout that."

Percy rolled his eyes.

Twenty minutes later, Percy and Grover rolled into the parking lot.

They jogged inside, joining the rest of the group as they finished their warm ups.

Jason looked at Percy, and exclaimed, "Finally! We can't start Hamilton when we don't have Hamilton."

Percy slid into his starting place backstage, just in time.

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Annabeth POV:

That night, after the performance, Annabeth decided to do something she'd been putting off for a couple days now. She needed to talk to her father.

They hadn't talked much after opening night. Annabeth had been so relieved and happy that he came, and they had parted that night with smiles and unfulfilled promises to maybe talk soon.

Annabeth had hated all those days where he was so distant. She almost hadn't wanted to talk to him for fear they'd end up right back where they started. She just wanted to really end off every conversation on a good -ish- note, even if these were only the occasional call at Christmas time.

Having her father be so… distant, and having Helen be so… well, evil, Annabeth supposed, used to be a very sore spot for Annabeth. She had spent her whole life trying to make them proud, and they never were.

But now… Well, now she didn't need their approval. She had Percy. And Piper. Hazel. Leo, Frank, Jason. The whole cast of Hamilton. Chiron. She had a family now. She had people that she thought were amazingly talented, and who thought the same of her.

But having an okay (ish) relationship with her father would have been the last, miniscule piece of a puzzle, that was, at the moment, missing. The puzzle would look pretty good without it, sure. You might not even notice there's a missing piece. The puzzle would do amazingly well without it. But still.

And then there was Athena. Who rocked the boat and changed everything.

If she was being honest, Annabeth had been a bit jealous of Percy. He had seemed like he'd had the perfect childhood, but now, now that she knew. It was a lot, really. And mostly Annabeth felt sorry. She felt sorry she had assumed he'd had the perfect childhood. She had been shocked, that's for sure. And she'd… treaded lightly, around Percy after that.

But he was still the same Percy he'd always been. Loud, talkative, funny. A talented actor and singer. An amazing boyfriend.

And so, Annabeth didn't drive back home. She drove to her father's house.

Annabeth knocked on the door, which was soon opened by Helen. Annabeth internally groaned. This had been something that she had been hoping to avoid.

"Hi, Helen," Annabeth greeted.

"Hello, Annabeth."

"Could I talk to my-"

"In a minute," Helen interrupted, "I… I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way I've treated you. I suppose I should tell you why, shouldn't I? Just before I married your father, my child died.

"She… she was beautiful. I'd had her with my previous marriage. She was just three years old, and… there was a car accident. I'd asked her father to drive her home, as I would be out with Frederick. And now… now, they're both dead. It's all my fault. Because I trusted that he -John- would look after her. I should have gone.

"And I met you. You looked just like my little Grace. You were so clever, and kind, and everything my Grace could have grown up to be. You had this amazing mother, who I could never compare to. I resented you.

"And now, I just want to say.. I'm sorry. For everything. If you'll forgive me."

Annabeth blinked back tears. Whatever she had been expecting, this was not it. And this… this changed everything.

But, surprisingly, she responded, "It's… It's okay."

Despite the strangeness of what she just said -did she really just forgive the woman who made her childhood hell?- it felt inexplicably… right. This was the right choice to have made, the right thing to do.

Annabeth leaned forward, and, albeit rather awkwardly, put her arms around the Asian-American she had hated all her life.

"Thank you, Annabeth," Helen said, her voice watery, "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Now, what were you saying before I dumped all this on you?" Helen asked.

"Oh, I'd like to talk to my dad. Is he around?" Annabeth asked.

"Oh, yes, he's just in his study," Helen answered.

As Annabeth stood up to walk to her father's study, Helen added, "And Annabeth? Talk to the boys, alright? They...They miss you."

Annabeth nodded, feeling guilty. In all her sadness and anger about her family, it had all only ever been about herself. She hadn't thought to consider Matthew and Bobby. Or how she was making them decide whether they sided with Annabeth or her parents. And how, in the process of sort of losing her family, they lost a sister.

She continued to walk down the hallways of her childhood home, until she reached her father's study.

"Hey, Dad," Annabeth greeted as she entered.

"Hello, Annabeth!" Frederick's face lit up as he greeted her, "What a lovely surprise!"

"I want to talk about my father," Annabeth stated.

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A/N: Just to let you know, I'll be traveling next week, so no updates next Saturday, and possibly the Saturday after that, as well.

Reviews:

Just the Soulmates: Thank you so much!

Recommendation:

Song of the Sirens by bloomingauthor7

This is the first PJO fanfiction posted on FF! And it's Percabeth! This should be, like, required reading. Think, this was written in 2006. Not all the Harry Potter books had come out. George Bush was President. And yet, people are still writing and reading and loving the Percy Jackson stories. Anyway, it's the encounter with the Sirens, but from Annabeth's point of view.

s/3205662/1/Song-of-the-Sirens