"Is there any way you could accommodate us? Please?"

Annabeth sighed and pressed her thumbs into her temples. She really didn't need a stress migraine today. Balancing two architectural jobs was hard enough, and now she had an influx of gods who wanted to make changes to their temples. Which would be fine, if it weren't for the fact that plots had been picked and some already built.

Being the architect of Olympus was…different. She remembered standing in that obliterated throne room, chin high as she graciously accepted the task from the Olympians–and then practically slapped them in the face when she announced that she would not be going on anymore of their quests. Her words had been something along the lines of: "You want me to rebuild your city? Then quit trying to get me killed." It hadn't gone over all that well at first, but then her mother brought up the fact that they did have lots of other demigods to recruit for their quests and favors not dictated by the Oracle. And that was that. She was free–well, free from having to risk her life constantly, at least.

So she'd gotten to work.

Her temporary interview location had been set up in a garden on Olympus, beneath a big white tent. It looked like some weird, fancy college orientation, with all the signs strewn about the grounds in an attempt to lead the way and also corral the minor gods still waiting to be interviewed into orderly lines. Eros and Psyche were sitting in front of her on folding chairs that seemed to be made of Celestial Bronze, worried looks on their very attractive faces.

"Child of Athena, I know my temple is already built. I don't need any changes to the design. All I want is my wife's temple next to mine," Eros pleaded before turning to smile at the stunning blonde woman next to him.

Before Annabeth could even formulate a response, Psyche nodded earnestly, and took her husband's hand in hers, butterfly wings twitching nervously at her back. She then made eye contact with Annabeth, and began to speak. "I will allow you total creative freedom–as long as it matches my symbols, I'm happy. I just…doesn't it seem like it'd be right? Having our temples next to each other's?" The pleading frown on her face didn't fit on her beautiful face, and for a blip, Annabeth had to process the fact that a goddess was practically begging her. She came to the conclusion that it was an uncomfortable interaction.

Annabeth bit the inside of her lip, thinking for a moment. Elbows on the matching extravagant folding table, she crossed her fingers. Total creative freedom was exactly the opposite of what she wanted–she needed to design several hundred temples for all non-Olympian gods, and while she didn't have a deadline, she would like to be done before she was 45. Besides, if Annabeth was giving total control, she'd spend far too long designing one temple instead of moving on to the next. "Accommodating you isn't the problem. In fact, I'd be happy to do so, since we haven't even had your interview yet, Lady Psyche. The problem is that Lord Hypnos has already claimed the only open plot next to Lord Eros's temple. I don't have time to talk to him, what with everything going on unfortunately, but if you can convince him to switch plots with you, I'll approve it. I would need written consent from both parties, though, to make things fair."

The couple traded wordless expressions and then returned their attention to the architect across from them. "And you think he'd be open to an exchange like that?" Asked Eros.

"I do, yes. And I am sorry for not taking into account couples who might want to be next to each other. That's on me, and I should have thought of it before it was brought up to me. I apologize, my Lord, my Lady," Annabeth said, bowing her head respectfully. Yeah, she definitely should have thought of that but why hadn't they come to her sooner? She could have avoided a much bigger mess, considering that Hypnos's interview and demands were already done and over with. She was just thankful they hadn't started construction yet, otherwise she probably would have had to tell the couple no.

She continued explaining, watching as the relief flooded them and smiles appeared on their faces. "All I can advise is that you speak to Lord Hypnos as soon as possible and get that document signed and then–"

"Annabeth."

The woman's head snapped to her right at her mother's voice, and she nodded at her in greeting. "Hey, Mom. Can I help you with something?" Annabeth silently thanked the Fates that the Olympians' temples had been finished last year. Those had been incredibly overwhelming, and at least she didn't have to worry about an Olympian asking her to make changes.

Gray eyes focused in on her, Athena's face still blank but stern. "Can I speak with you, for a moment?"

Annabeth blinked, but nodded. It must have been important, if she was interrupting her work. "Yeah, sure," she replied with obvious hesitation in her voice. "Lord and Lady, please try to get that document to me by the end of the week, if he agrees." With that, she stood from her chair to follow Athena to a more private area and then realized just how stiff she was. Annabeth had probably been sitting there for at least a couple hours, and while she didn't want to be pulled away from her work, this time she appreciated the chance to stretch.

When she glanced at her mother's face, Athena's expression was definitely more on the side of "I'm very serious right now and I need you to match my energy," so Annabeth resisted the urge to crack all the joints in her body and crossed her arms over her chest. "...Is something wrong?" She asked, brows furrowed. Athena seemed different today. She was dressed very professionally, dark hair twisted into a bun as tight as her pencil skirt. Athena seemed almost upset from what she could tell, and she knew that she was about to tell her exactly why. Annabeth knew her mom was very blunt. Sure, sometimes she spoke a little poetically (aka, vaguely), but she typically just cut right to the chase and today was one of those days. But the words that came out of her mouth next surprised her daughter.

"You need to stay away from Perseus." Athena's tone was tight, her expression no-nonsense.

Immediately, Annabeth's expression changed, and she desperately resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Sighing through her nose, she felt annoyance build up in her chest. The encounter had happened not three nights ago. "So you are still spying on me, I take it."

"If you want to call looking out for my favored daughter 'spying', then yes," Athena responded bitingly.

Annabeth wasn't exactly surprised. Ever since Mount St. Helen blew up and she nearly died, Athena had become a helicopter parent, which was shocking, considering her past track record. Apparently, Athena had had a funeral shroud already woven for her when Annabeth arrived back at camp, prepared right next to Bianca's, which was pretty morbid if she was being honest. According to Chiron, something about the blast had clouded the Olympian's view, and when Athena wasn't able to "see" her…well, she started on the shroud.

Afterward, the overprotectiveness had started with way more owls sitting in trees watching Annabeth in the woods at Camp Half-Blood, which really was fine, and not that big of a deal. It was just owls. But then she nearly died like three times during the Battle of Manhattan, and also fought Kronos, and things got serious.

It moved on to snakes–one just like, showed up at Cabin 6 with a weird attachment to Annabeth. In fact, she woke up with it curled up on her chest, but it ate all the spiders that dared cross the boundary into the cabin, so she and her siblings decided to keep it around. And then it somehow miraculously found its way into her duffle bag when she left for school at the end of the summer. Then, shortly after she moved into her boarding school dormitory, a big-ass olive tree popped out of the ground in front of her window. Overnight, with no explanation. And of course, she often woke up in the middle of the night to owls sitting on the branches and staring through the window at her. Which again, was fine, but also very unnerving. When she didn't feel like dealing with it, she just closed the blinds. Again, no big deal in the long run.

But then the whole ordeal followed her to college. And to her apartment. And then to her place of work. Olive trees everywhere, owls everywhere, and snakes under her feet– everywhere .

And yeah, while Athena was definitely keeping her eye on Annabeth, until recently, it had been silent but observant, maintaining the whole "distant, quietly fond mother" attitude. It just… got kind of overwhelming sometimes. Honestly, Annabeth didn't have a problem with the helicoptering at first, because after all the years of silence, it was actually kinda nice to get signs that her mom cared, one of the only things she had ever really wanted.

But when she started working on Olympus? It just got a thousand times worse. At least three times a day her mother would stop by with some excuse–whether it was dropping off food, or asking her about her designs, or pressuring her about school. And it wasn't like she'd ever outright told Annabeth she was watching over her, or even that she was affectionate, because if she was, it might have been a little less weird. Instead, Annabeth was often referred to by other gods as "Athena's favored child", and the fact that it was well known but she barely heard that from her mother's mouth was a little disheartening. The only expression of affection she could even remember from her mother was a soft "you did well" after the Battle of Manhattan. Sure, it was nice and seemed sincere. But then she heard more nice things about her and her heroics from every god but her mother while up on Olympus, and it just really rubbed her the wrong way.

Needless to say, Annabeth didn't exactly feel like Athena's favorite. She was certainly told it all the time, to an annoying degree, but it felt…like a secret that needed to be kept. Like Athena was hiding it. Which was awful and made her insecure and angry and even more detached from her mother.

But Annabeth was determined to stand her ground this time, because this was getting to an it's-not-cute-anymore stage. It was time to put her foot down. "I am an adult. I have survived a lot shit, and a lot of it without your help," she seethed, gray eyes blazing with barely-contained rage. "I learned to adapt without your guidance and protection, and I don't need it now. So stop ignoring my boundaries and realize that."

Athena's expression twisted angrily, but Annabeth put a hand up when the goddess opened her mouth. "I really don't care about Perseus right now. I have no intention of running into him again, and I certainly didn't seek him out. I also don't care what your intentions are. Stop spying on me. I can take care of myself."

"He is dangerous, Annabeth."

"And I was a glorified child soldier for most of my life. You didn't seem to care about 'dangerous' then." She knew it was out of hand–and even though she felt a little guilty, it was even better to get it out. That had been bubbling up in her for years. And it was true, and Annabeth had a right to be angry about it. The gods had sent her and her demigod siblings and friends into battle when they were supposed to be the ones fighting the titans. The gods sent kids as young as twelve out on quests, luring them along with victory and glory like it was some first-place prize. Throughout her time at Camp Half-Blood, Annabeth always counted the numbers in quests, and counted how many returned. Less than half made it back alive, and she had somehow, miraculously, lived through four of them.

A vaguely hurt expression settled over Athena's sharp features at her daughter's provocation. "You know I wasn't allowed to intervene, Annabeth," she murmured bitterly, something akin to pain shining in her gray eyes. "I did what I could to keep you alive."

Annabeth's lip curled and she scoffed, "Yeah, and all I've got to show for it is a baseball cap. I mean really, invisibility? Way to make your insecure, lonely kid feel even worse. Great gift, Mom." Honestly, she was kind of in awe that she hadn't been smote yet, and she had to check herself. Her hubris wanted her to push more, to say more, just to win the argument, but Annabeth knew than to anger a goddess, even if she was her mother.

The goddess of wisdom lifted a hand, and Annabeth watched as it curled into a fist and then relaxed and dropped back to her side. Her eyes lifted to Annabeth's, a hidden plea in her face, "I don't want to argue with you, daughter. Just heed my warning. Stay away from Perseus. It's in your best interest."

The blonde didn't respond. She just stood there, arms crossed, irritation plain on her face, feet planted squarely. Annabeth didn't want to say anything else, because if she acknowledged Athena's statement, it would mean forfeiting. And Annabeth Chase was not about to forfeit.

So, she silently turned on her heel and stalked back toward the pristine white tent with its Celestial Bronze folding chairs and tables and long, winding lines of gods standing in wait. With a growl, she lifted the bullhorn sitting next to her chair up to her mouth. "I'm done for the day. I'll be back on Monday."

Annabeth threw the bullhorn to the ground viciously, and marched toward the elevators that would lead her back to the bottom of the Empire State Building. She punched the down-button with her finger first, and then with her whole fist, and when the elevator finally arrived, she stomped inside and pressed the "close-door" button rapidly.

Once the doors had sealed and the elevator began its slow descent, she screamed at the top of her lungs until she was breathless. "I need a fucking drink!" Her fists were clenched so tight they shook, and she had to restrain herself from punching the bronze walls, lest she break her hand.

So she just screamed some more.

When she stepped out at the lobby of the Empire State Building, her sweater had been smoothed down and a smile had plastered itself over her face. She bid the guards goodbye, and stepped out into the cold of New York in mid-January.

Hours later, she was up on Olympus again, this time with a half-empty wine bottle in hand.

Truthfully, she'd rather be anywhere else, but the gods hadn't been kind enough to put a statue of Bianca in Camp Half-Blood, so there Annabeth sat on the rough cobbled path, staring up at the face of her dead best friend, carved into that awful white marble. The only other statue was in Hades, and as close as she was with Nico it wasn't like she could just waltz into the Underworld on a weekly basis.

It wasn't that the statue on Olympus was bad, or that it didn't look like her, because it did. It was just somehow her, and at the same time, the exact opposite of her. It was slightly too sharp and she wasn't smiling and her brows were furrowed and she looked cold and serious and it–

It wasn't her. And honestly, Annabeth kind of hated them for that. That they couldn't even have been bothered to make an accurate statue of the hero who saved all of their asses time and time again. It was more than just disrespectful–it was ignorant.

She could still hear her voice. Her laugh. It haunted her everywhere she went, invaded every dream, every nightmare. Annabeth took a swig from the bottle, some cheap red she'd bought at a liquor store near her apartment. She had planned on just going home and being miserable there, but she always ended up back here.

Her fingers went up to twirl the streak of gray still stuck in her hair. Annabeth had tried to dye it to match her natural color two years prior, but it just grew back out the same solemn gray. She had even asked some of the Aphrodite kids to help her at least conceal it so she didn't have to look at it in the mirror every gods-damned day, but even they hadn't been able to do much.

"You're stuck with me forever, you know," Bianca said quietly from her spot on the ground next to Annabeth. They'd decided to go star-gazing on their last night of summer together. The daughter of Athena had let her best friend convince her to give staying with her dad and step family another shot, so she was taking off for the school year. She wasn't exactly excited about it, but she figured it was worth a try.

Annabeth snorted, hands clasped over her chest, and raised a brow, even though Bianca couldn't see it in the dark. "What, like I'd ever get rid of you?" The daughter of Hades laughed at that, and Annabeth slapped a hand over her friend's mouth. "The cleaning harpies will hear you, B! Shhh."

When Bianca pushed the blonde's hand off her mouth, she was still trying to contain her giggles. "You couldn't get away from me if you tried. Not even death would stop me. You're not allowed to die on me, 'Beth. Or I'll raise you and then kill you myself just for being so rude."

"I'd march into Hades for you," Annabeth said confidently, no hesitation.

"Oh, really? You'd defy my dad?"

"Yes. I'd demand you back, beg for you if I had to. Like Orpheus."

Bianca sat up at that, giving her best friend a dubious look. "Didn't he like, completely screw that up?" Annabeth could tell she was trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, but I'd be better than him. I'd actually succeed in getting you back to the mortal realm."

The dark haired girl bumped Annabeth's shoulder with her own, a soft laugh escaping her throat. "Woah, there, better watch that hubris."

Annabeth pushed her playfully, storm cloud eyes shining in the moonlight. "I'm serious! You're not allowed to die on me either, B. I'll drag you out of the Underworld if I have to."

The two fell silent on the forest floor, staring at each other wordlessly. Annabeth's heart skipped in her chest, but the moment broke when Bianca pulled her almost worried gaze away from the blonde's face. "So, what are you excited about for your new school?"

She could still hear her voice, her laugh, echoing in her ears. She fucking hated it. So, Annabeth continued to just stare up at Bianca, eyes glued to the spot where her smile should have been.

Footsteps approached from behind her, but she didn't hear. She didn't notice anyone was even there until Thalia sat down next to her and pulled the wine bottle out of Annabeth's grip. "So, uh, just sitting out here torturing yourself again, 'Beth?"

Thalia looked as she always did. Barely sixteen, dressed in layers of black and gray camo, dark leather jacket thrown on top. She wasn't wearing her circlet at the moment, but Thalia always took it off when she wasn't "on-duty" as she called it. Annabeth wondered how Artemis let her get away with everything she did and said, but favoritism existed among the gods, and with her Lieutenant status, her old friend was the definition of it. Annabeth smiled sadly at her, watching as Thalia took a swig from the wine bottle and promptly made a face. "Gods, that's terrible. They're giving you a salary and you buy this?" She dropped the bottle back in Annabeth's lap, a grimace on her face.

"When did you get back?" She asked quietly.

Thalia shrugged. "A few hours ago. Lady Artemis wanted us back here for some business."

Annabeth returned to staring up at Bianca. "How'd you find me?"

"Made an educated guess."

She just nodded, and lifted the wine bottle to her mouth again. Annabeth could feel Thalia watching her with those blue, blue eyes, could feel the concern in her stare. But the nice thing about Thalia was that she would let her wallow in guilt and shame and pity. The daughter of Zeus was the one person who didn't try to fix her after Bianca died, the one person who wouldn't berate her. The one person who didn't treat her like a bomb about to go off. Instead, she'd join her and make easy conversation, and sit in the feeling. She'd encourage Annabeth to let it out, or distract her with stories, or make jokes. It wasn't easy to sit through, but it was better than acting like it hadn't happened.

Everyone had tried to avoid the topic of Bianca after she died, and all Annabeth could remember was being sixteen and feeling so angry. She supposed that everyone dealt with shit in their own ways, but to her it felt like all the kids at Camp, Chiron, even Nico for gods' sake, were ignoring the fact that she ever lived. On top of that, everyone practically walked on eggshells when speaking to her. The pitied looks she'd receive, the hands on her shoulders and the "I'm here if you need to talk" comments–they just made Annabeth angrier and sadder and furious. Bianca shouldn't have died to begin with. Fuck the prophecy, it was the gods job to handle the Titans. It should have been them.

Not some teenager that accepted the prophecy as her own to spare her little brother the horror of it all.

And despite all Annabeth's hopes and prayers, all the offerings she made at every meal, despite the River fucking Styx and her invincibility, Bianca died anyway.

All she could think was that she hadn't done enough.

"Thanks," Annabeth acknowledged softly.

"Don't mention it. I know her birthday's coming up. We should get a bunch of booze, pour it out for her twenty-first," Thalia suggested. It wasn't a bad idea, Annabeth thought. Bianca deserved to be celebrated. And she spent every one of her birthdays up here already, so with some emotional support in town, why not?

"And how do you propose we get that booze?" Annabeth countered, a brow raised.

Thalia elbowed her. "I don't even have an ID card. It's obviously gonna be you. What do you think she would have liked? She always seemed like a tequila girl to me."

"What, Lady Artemis lets her Hunters party?" Annabeth teased.

The smirk that stretched over Thalia's face was devious. "Not exactly. But when she's gone all the time…well, she's gotta allow us some of our own trouble to stir up."

There was a moment of silence that followed before Annabeth spoke again. "Yeah, she definitely would have been a tequila girl. But the expensive kind. Not the cheap shit."

Thalia let out a long, loud sigh. "Alright. On the first, bring some bottles of Patron. Maybe some vodka, too. Can't let the dead girl have all the fun, yeah?"

The laugh that launched itself out of Annabeth's throat was loud and riotous. She was glad no one but Thalia was around or they might have questioned her sanity. Thalia just laughed along with her for a good few minutes, screeching at the snorts that echoed from her friend. At some point, their laughing quieted, their shoulders still shaking. When Thalia looked back over at Annabeth, she could see the tears flooding down her face. Silently, she put an arm over the blonde's shoulder, and drug her oldest friend into a tight hug, and just let her cry.