AN: …I'm…I'm not even going to make an excuse for not updating in so long. (Especially since I really don't have any excuses.)
To Hey: OF COURSE I'm a Stormer! Who in their right mind isn't?
To MyLittleBigBangSwitchAtOlympus: That won't be happening for a lil' bit, I think. Need to have some angst, you know?
To EvenTheSunsetsInParadise: Even though I already answered you this, I'm gonna tell everybody else so that no one asks again; If it's not touching a living, human being, then it's free game for Annabeth. If an object is just touching her, then they (living people) can't see it. She exists on a different field of reality, per say, and she can take other objects to that field, but not humans. You guys got it? Good.
To dolcissimonotappasionato: Really? Thanks! That really means a lot to me!
To ShadowsOfATridentTattoo: How do you know it's Percy? It could be… *waggles eyebrows in a way that's supposed to be cool, but probably looks like a suggestive hooker* …Rachel. I mean, she's one of the listed characters. Why do people just assume its Percy?
Annabeth has a bit of a potty mouth in this chapter, so, be warned.
2015
"Whoa! Watch it there!"
Annabeth rips herself away from him, stumbling onto her feet and clutching onto the railing. If her heart could still pump blood, it'd probably be beating a mile a minute right about now.
Staying frozen in shock, she glances over him. Kind of tan, with black hair, and of course, sea-green eyes. He looks around sixteen, and wears a pair of jeans and a t-shirt a size too big for him that's not flattering at all, but it gets Annabeth all flustered.
Maybe it's because he's the first person that seems to be able to see her in over a hundred years.
"You-you can see me?" she gasps, not able to wrap her head around it. How many times had Cupid drilled it into her skull that she would never have contact with anyone ever again? Too many times to count.
"Of course I can see you," he says. "You're a normal human being, aren't you?"
She looks down at the metal beneath their feet, whispering, "No. No I'm not."
"What was that?" he asks.
"Nothing," she says, maybe a little too quickly, but if she's going to be able to talk to someone other than Cupid–even if it is one of his tricks–she's going to do everything in her power to not mess it up.
He holds out his hand to her. "I'm Percy Jackson," he introduces himself. Annabeth just stares at his outstretched limb, and he retracts it awkwardly. "What's your name?"
"I–um–gah–my–" She stops and collects her bearings. "I-I'm Ann-Annabeth."
"Well, hello, then, Annabeth," Percy greets, smiling softly at her. Then he turns serious. "Look, Annabeth, I can't pretend that I know what you've gone through, but I know…I know that suicide isn't the answer."
"What?" she demands. "I-I wasn't…" Then she looks down at the street below them. I was, she realizes. This guy here apparently doesn't know she can fly, and he can see her. To Percy, it probably looked like she was jumping from three stories up.
Great, she grumbles in her head. First person I get to talk to in over a century, and he thinks I'm suicidal. Just perfect.
"Do you have any friends or family I could bring you back to?" he asks softly, his eyes flickering back and forth between her and the railing behind her back, like he's scared she'll try to jump again.
"I don't have any friends," she mutters. She avoids the or family part, because, yeah, Malcolm, Bobby, and Matthew all have tons of descendants. She just doesn't know where they all are.
"Then I'll be your friend," he offers, and her eyes snap up to his.
She wonders if he would have the same outlook on the fact if he knew what she really is.
Biting her lip, she reaches forward, wondering if it's creepy when she presses her palm against his chest. But she just needs conformation that this guy right here that's talking to her is alive and warm. She lets out a strangled gasp when his heart beats under her fingertips, and she feels like crying out of relief, because finally, finally, finally she has someone to talk to.
"I'd-I'd like that," she says, twisting her hand in the fabric of his shirt before letting it fall to her side. "I'd really li…love that." She lets out a watery chuckle. "I'd really, really love that."
He smiles at her, not calling her out on her odd behavior. "Great!" he chirps. Then, he arms slide around her shoulders, tugging her close. "Every great friendship starts out with a hug," he states, tightening his arms.
Annabeth stays still for a long moment. The touch of this living human being is completely overriding her senses. With shaky arms, she slowly returns the hug, slipping her hands under his arms and locking her fingers together just over his spine. She presses her chin down on his shoulder, and a sob escapes her throat, because finally, finally, finally she has someone to hold.
"Hey, now, Annabeth," Percy sooths, running a hand up and down her back. "This is a happy moment, right? No tears." She finds that funny–since, having no bodily functions, she can't cry–and laughs with a puff of watery breath.
"No. I just…" She shifts her chin on his shirt, so that her mouth presses on the seam, and then moves right back again. "I just don't remember the last time someone's hugged me."
"What?" He gasps, sounding outraged at the thought of someone receiving no hugs. "That's…That's horrible!"
"You tell me," she mutters.
"Then we'll have to make this one count!" he proclaims.
He doesn't let go for a long while, probably long enough for it to become awkward, but she's okay with it. She hasn't felt this…this human since she died.
But then, he pulls away, continuing to touch her shoulders, and it feels like warmth is spreading across her skin for the first time in over a century from where his fingertips dig into her.
"How about you and I talk about this…" He nods at the railing, but then quickly directs his attention back to her, like he's afraid he gave her an idea. "…over some coffee, yeah?"
Coffee. She swipes her tongue over her lips, almost tasting the dark liquid that Argus sometimes gave to her whenever she was at the tavern picking things up for her father. Since Percy can see her…She wonders if she can drink and eat now, too. She hopes.
"S-sure," she says, still a bit taken back by the whole thing.
A grin stretches his lips, and he takes her arm, leading her carefully down the fire escapes, chatting the whole time. "I know where to get the best coffee in town; my friends and I go there all the time. Oh, and you'll have to meet all my friends! And my mom and brother! They'll all be your friends, too, I'm sure. I mean…"
Annabeth stares at the back of his head, fascinated. She's observed human conversation for a long time now, and she's never heard anyone so…interesting. Maybe the reason is because she can chat back to him.
They step out onto the sidewalk, Percy still leading her by the arm. Her breath hitches with amazement when her shoulder slams into a man's side, not phasing through, and he growls at her, "Watch it, girlie." She relishes in the feeling of bumping into other people on the crowded sidewalk.
People can hear her. People can see her. People can touch her.
It's probably the best damn thing that's ever happened to her.
Percy leads her into a charming little café called Coffee Cloud, smashed in between a dress shop and a burger joint that pleads to make her mouth water, but can't. He opens the doors, taking her straight up to the counter.
People crane their heads to look, and Annabeth suddenly feels very self-conscious. The last time she had to worry about other people's opinions…Well, that was a very long time ago. Maybe she's not walking right. Maybe people can smell the zombie on her. Maybe she's translucent, and people are going to call the government to take her down.
It doesn't help her anxiety when she realizes her clothes have holes in them. Her hoodie is practically falling apart. When was the last time she washed these? Too long, apparently, she thinks when she takes her next step, the heel of her beat-up sneaker slapping against her sole.
She cringes, but Percy continues to lead her to the counter like he's proud of being next to her.
And he probably is. He thinks that he just saved her life.
"Hey, there, Percy!" greets the barista lady. She looks kind of old (Annabeth really can't comment on peoples ages, so…yeah. Kind of), around mid-fifties or so, with a head of wavy dark hair. "Where's the rest of your little crew?"
"Oh, it's just me and my new friend Annabeth today, Mellie," Percy says, gesturing at the blonde.
"Uh–um–Hi!" she blurts, stuttering a little bit. Okay, a lot.
"Hello there, dear. Nice to meet you," Mellie says, nodding at her. She turns her attention back to Percy. "Usual?" she asks.
He nods. "You know it."
She picks up a to-go cup, writing down his "usual" on it. Placing it down on counter, she grabs another one, looking at Annabeth with expectant eyes. "And for you, dear?"
"I…uh…" Her eyes scan over all the different flavors and kinds of coffee–expressos, cappuccinos, just a whole lot of drinks ending in o. She rolls her shoulders. Better keep it simple. "Just a black coffee for me, please," she requests.
Mellie's eyes widen slightly, like she isn't used to getting this kind of order from (seemingly) teenage girls. "Are you sure, dear?" she questions. "That might be a little…strong for you."
Setting her jaw, Annabeth nods her confirmation. "I'm good," she says. "That's how I used to drink it, when I was aliv–little. When I was little."
Thankfully, Mellie doesn't call her out on her slip up and just scratches down her order, before preparing her and Percy's coffee.
Percy leans on the counter, looking exactly like a stereotypical lazy teenager. She just kind of…stares at him. In awkward silence. For a little while.
"Well," he starts, searching for a conversation, "I'm, uh, I'm sixteen, and my favorite color is blue." He cocks his head at her. "Your turn to share."
When she doesn't respond, he says, "Not any deep stuff. We'll go outside for that, if your uncomfortable talking about…it…in here. This is just normal friend stuff right now. You know, skimming before we dive in?"
She blinks at him. Are people always this…considerate? "I…I don't know what to tell," she confesses.
"Favorite color," he suggests. "Last name."
"Green," she answers immediately.
Green? she asks herself.
Green. Sea green, her brain confirms, locking onto Percy's bright eyes. Yeah…Just like that. That green.
"And, Chase," she says, shaking herself out of her thoughts. "My last name is Chase."
"Annabeth Chase," he says, testing the words out on his tongue. She doesn't know about him, but she sure as Hades loves her name coming out of his mouth. He beams at her. "Nice name. Pretty…and all that jazz."
Pink tints his cheeks from the whole pretty comment. He rolls his shoulders. "Age?"
"I…" She hesitates. There's really no easy way to tell a guy you're 140 years old without him questioning your sanity, is there? "Sixteen," she answers, giving him the age she was murdered at.
"Cool! Then you're my age!"
Not even close, she thinks, but nods anyway. "Yeah."
"Here you two go." Mellie hands Percy their coffees once he turns around to face her.
"Thanks." He gives Annabeth hers', and fishes out his wallet to pay the barista. They start walking out. "See you later, Mellie!"
"Goodbye, Percy! Tell Rachel I said 'Hi'!"
He opens the door for them. "Will do!"
They step outside again. He leads her down the street, back to the apartment complex, taking sip of his coffee as he goes. Annabeth cradles the cup to her chest, making a quick wish before taking a swig.
Nothing. She can't taste it. She doesn't feel the relief of the warm liquid going down her throat.
She scowls, shoving her free hand into her hoodie pocket. There goes hoping.
"Don't you like it?" Percy asks.
Her eyes snap up to his. "Yeah," she says, smiling fakely, only because he bought for her. She takes another pointless sip. "It's great."
He ducks into an alleyway without warning, and she has no choice to follow. He plops down against a wall, patting the cement next to him as an invitation. She takes it.
Their arms lightly touch when she sits down, but it's enough to send her into overdrive. He just smiles at her, like he isn't affected by the contact at all.
Then he turns serious. "Please, talk to me," he says quietly. "Why were you gonna jump?"
To fly. She stares at her ratty sneakers, trying to formulate a lie to spin. Apparently, he senses her reluctance, and starts speaking.
"My dad died," he states soberly.
"Hmm?" Annabeth glances up to look at him.
"Yeah," he continues. "Me, my mom, and my brother, a couple months after he died, we all moved to a different apartment because the last one was filled with too many memories." He chuckles almost nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. "We're still unpacking. Especially me."
"So you're the ones making all the noise," she breathes. His eyes widen.
"What? Am I keeping you and your family up?" he asks hurriedly.
She hugs her knees close to her chest, setting her chin on top of them. She reaches forward to flick a pebble across the alleyway. "I don't sleep."
"Oh. Okay." He doesn't seem to know how to reply to that, so he just keeps talking. "We didn't move far, thankfully, because we don't have the money to do that. My friends and girlfriend are there for me, so I can be there for Tyson, my little brother, and my mom.
"My mom tries to be strong for me and my brother, but…Sometimes, you have to let other people help you."
It's obviously a hint. She doesn't take it.
He mirrors her position. "How about your parents?"
She flicks another rock. It bounces off of a trashcan with a hollow clang. "My parents are dead," she tells him, monotone.
"Then…" He's struggling, she knows. "Any…older siblings?"
"Two older brothers, two younger brothers…"
Percy brightens a tad bit. "Then how about you introduce me to th–"
"…all dead," she finishes.
Then he deflates. "Oh."
Silence.
"Then…how are you living in an apartment? And not, you know, an orphanage? Well, I assume you live in an apartment at the same complex I'm in, since you were on the fire escape and you said about how we're making noise and…"
"The apartment that I hang out in is cut off from the plumbing and electricity," she interrupts him. "The landlord doesn't rent it out, and he sure as hell won't tell anybody about it. I sneak in through the window."
More silence.
"Why'd you try to jump?" he asks bluntly, stopping with the tactics to get her to admit it on her own.
"Well, I…" She flicks another rock, planning out what she should say.
"I don't have any friends, Percy. I have been alone for so long, that I barely see the point on why I exist in this…this oblivion of constant isolation."
"You could have gone out," he tells her softly, "made friends."
She laughs bitterly. "No. I really couldn't've," she mutters.
He reaches over, squeezing her arm reassuringly. She looks back at him with surprise clearly written on her face. "Well, you just made one," he states.
Then he stands, and she does too. "I should be heading home," he says. "I…How about tomorrow morning I'll introduce you to my family, yeah?"
"Uh…Sure."
He gives her another beaming smile. "Cool!" He heads out of the alleyway, before stopping and craning his neck to look at her. "Pro…promise me you won't try to jump again? Please?"
She contemplates it for a moment, staring at her shoes, taking it all in.
Then she looks back up at him with a light smile.
"Yeah. Yes. I won't jump again, I promise."
;
1882
"Mama!" Annabeth complains, squirming in her Sunday dress. The heat of the Thursday afternoon makes the stiff color of her garment almost unbearable as she walks by her mother's side.
"Mother," Athena corrects.
"Mother," Annabeth echoes. She opens her mouth to continue, but Athena beats her to it.
"And try not to fiddle too much, dear," she advises. "You'll wrinkle your dress."
She puffs out her cheeks, folding her arms over to chest. "Why is it just us going? Shouldn't the boys be comin' too?"
Frederick laughs, reaching forward to ruffle her hair, but let's his hand fall back to his side at Athena's obvious I spent hours on that. Do not mess it up glare. "Because, pumpkin, this is Father's old professor, and we need to impress him," he starts. "The boys just wouldn't be putting the cute front that we can get from you."
"Plus," Athena cuts in, "Luke does need to start learning how to take care of children, and Malcolm and the twins are a good start. He's already fourteen; isn't long before he marries off to some pretty girl and has children of his own."
"Ewwwwww." Annabeth wrinkles her nose at the thought of her older brother getting all lovey-dovey with one of the town girls. A sickening vision of him smooching Lou Ellen fills her mind, and she shudders.
Her father chuckles as they step onto the train station platform. "Look, Annabeth!" Frederick directs her attention to a tall, burly man with a beard. Two children stand at his side; a blond-haired boy clutching a suitcase too big for him and a black-haired girl wearing a fine blue lawn dress. "There's Mr. Grace!"
They make their way over to them. "Hello, Zeus!" Frederick greets, and Mr. Grace turns to look at him.
"Ah, Frederick! So good ta see ya," Mr. Grace returns. They clasp hands in a welcome. Mr. Grace glances at Athena. "This be ya're lovely wife Athena, eh?"
"Yes."
"Pleasure ta meet ya, milady," Mr. Grace says. His eyes skim over Annabeth, and she grabs onto Athena's hand, hiding halfway behind her skirt.
Mr. Grace is kinda scary.
"Ya're daughter Annabeth, I assume?" Mr. Grace guesses.
"I only have one daughter," Frederick jests. He nudges Annabeth forward. "Go say hi to Mr. Grace."
Hesitantly, she steps out from behind her mother, knowing how much this means to her father. She takes Mr. Grace's outstretched hand. "Hi," she mumbles.
"Pleasure ta meet ya," Mr. Grace says, shaking her hand before letting go and pushing his kids forward. "Annabet', this is my son, Argus, and my daughter, Thalia."
She inspects them. Argus is kind of cute–like in the way that a rabbit is cute, because she's way too young for boys–with golden-blond hair much like her own, but straight, and electric blue eyes that match his father's and sister's. Thalia looks around nine and also uncomfortable in her hot Sunday dress, fidgeting and brushing her pretty raven hair behind her ear.
She grins at them. "My name's Annabeth!" she announces, though it's kind of redundant.
Thalia perks a little at her friendliness. "Thalia," she returns, though, again, pointless, since her father already introduced her.
Argus blushes and shuffles on his feet. "H-hi," he says, waving. He looks extremely flustered.
"Annabeth, dear," Athena says softly, "how about you show Thalia and Argus the way to the house? Your father, Mr. Grace, and I will be close behind."
"Okay!" Annabeth chirps. "C'mon! Follow me!"
She runs off, and Argus and Thalia have no choice but to follow. They slow down a bit when they get farther down the road.
"Where's your mother?" Annabeth questions, realizing there isn't a Mrs. Grace.
"Oh." Argus sniffles, scuffing a rock under his shiny black shoes. "She-she died."
"Yeah." Thalia nods. "Papa said he moved us here so that we could get away from all the bad memories."
"That's okay!" Annabeth says. "We can share my mother!"
Argus looks up. "Really?" he whispers.
"Yeah! Now, come on, you slowpokes! I still need to introduce you to my brothers!"
They run the rest of the way, laughing and squealing joyously. When they make it to the house, Luke is in front, raking leaves.
"Luke!" Annabeth crows, coming to a stop. The Graces come in right behind her. "These are my new friends! This is Argus, and–"
Luke leans on his rake, extending his hand toward Thalia. "I'm Luke," he says.
She shakes his hand. "Thalia. My name's Thalia."
The pair stares at each other, transfixed, and if only Annabeth had known she'd practically signed her death warrant.
;
2015
Annabeth stays in the alleyway a long time after Percy leaves. She stares at nothing, trying to process what had happened today.
How come people can see her? Why did they start hearing her after Percy showed up?
Her head whirls with unanswered questions. It's giving her quite the vertigo.
When she finally leaves, she trips on a rock in the entry way and falls forward. A woman walks in front of her, and she cringes at the thought of knocking her over, but she phases right through, falling on the sidewalk with an oomph.
Nobody pays her any attention, even though she just passed through a person. She stands up, reaching over to tug on the woman's sleeve. "Hey, you okay?" she asks, but the woman pays her no attention, and her fingertips go straight through her elbow.
No one can see her anymore.
"Damn it!" she bellows, punching the closest wall to her. Again no one pays her any attention.
She slides down the wall, putting her head in her hands.
It was all a trick. Being able to be heard, touched, seen was all a trick. Percy…was a trick.
She wants to cry. She wants to cry so badly. But, she can't.
"Cupid," she whispers. Then, louder, she says, "Cupid!"
Cursing him the entire way, she flies up onto the building she punched. Once she lands, she cups her hands around her mouth and shouts at the sky, "Come down! Damn it, Cupid! I need to talk to you!"
After getting no answer except for her own echo, she gets ready to shout again. But then the air ripples beside her, and Cupid's standing next to her.
"What the hell, Cupid?!" she explodes.
"Ah." He raises a black, almost slimy-looking eyebrow at her. "I see you found my surprise. Did you like it?"
"Like it?" She launches herself at him, but the air ripples again and suddenly he's out of the way. She tumbles to the ground, grunting, before pulling herself back up. "Like it? You messed with my head! I thought that people could actually see me!"
"They could," he tells her. "And they still can, as long as you're around Percy Jackson."
She scowls in confusion, clenching her fists. "Wha–"
He holds up his hand to her, and she shuts up, not out of her own free will. He waggles his finger, and then she can't move, like she's made out of a clay that only he can manipulate.
"Much better," he breathes in relief. "Hmm…where was I? Right." He circles around her once until he ends up in front of her again. "Now, you must know by now that I am much, much older than you. And, as you also know, it gets old, seeing the same things over and over again without much change.
"Then, I had this brilliant idea. What if I had some fun by messing with a soul?" He directs a look at her, letting her know that she's the soul he talking about.
"But first, I needed a soul that I could snatch before it went to the afterlife. So, I took control of someone in love, since I am Cupid, and that's what I do, and I twisted his thoughts so that he killed a young girl, and I claimed her soul."
Annabeth's eyes widen.
(Or, at least, they would have, if she could still move a single muscle.)
Rage courses through her veins, filling the void of blood. So Cupid killed her? Not Luke?
"Yes, Annabeth Chase." Cupid locks his red eyes onto her grey ones. "If I hadn't, as kids these days say, screwed with your brother, then you would have walked away from that night, scratch-free.
"You would have got a very drunk and depressed, not angry, Luke to bed, and you would have gone home to find your family eating dinner. The next day, you wouldn't have woken up in a ditch, but your own bed. You would have helped Luke get over Thalia by setting him up with Lou Ellen. You would have served as Thalia and Kronos's maid of honor, and you would have ended up marrying Argus, siring a couple children of your own. Because of you, women would have been able to vote six years before they did. Your children would have all gone on to be successful, and you would have died peacefully in your sleep at the age of eighty-three."
He pauses for a moment, letting her have some time to take it all in.
"But what fun is that?" he asks. "No, I changed your fate to make sure that it was fun. For me, at least."
He steps closer to her, and how she wishes to throw herself at him and beat him to death. "Only when you are around Percy Jackson is when other people can see you. Why, you would ask? Well…
"To be able to grow old, to be able to live, to, when you die again, be able to go to the afterlife," he starts, licking his lips, "you have to make Percy Jackson fall in love with you.
"That is your…conquest. So that you may be released from this oblivion, you must get Percy Jackson to fall in love with you."
AN: Okay, you're right. It was Percy. :) You guys called it.
Sorry if my café terminology is bad, but I don't like coffee nor tea, so I really don't hang out around Starbucks too often.
Plus, apparently I semi-ship Argus/Annabeth. And Luke/Lou Ellen. (Suddenly this is turning into a place where crack-ships are born.) So…super sorry if I put images in your head. I sure put some in mine, and all are bad. *shudders* *whispers* Why did I do that?
This was not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. If you find any errors, please tell me what they are so I can fix them.
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or any other product I might have mentioned.
Constructive criticism welcome, and reviews really do mean a lot to me!