AN: *Gasp* What is this? Another chapter in a reasonable amount of time? Absurd!

I just wanna thank you all for all the support for this story! Seriously. You guys are awesome.

Though, no one got my Pretty Little Liars reference in the last chapter. Pretty disappointed in you all. (Not really.)

To I really don't: Hahahah. No.

To liaregie: Piper could be related to Silena. The only relations to people from Annabeth's past that I'm going to touch up on are Percy's, Tyson's, and all their cousins' being descendants of Thalia and Kronos, probably. But, you know, let your imagination run wild!

To seekerquaffle621: I'm not sure that stabbing your computer would be the best course of action, ha ha. Then you won't get to read what happens next!

To Artsybookworm: Thank you for reviewing!

WARNING: This is domestic abuse in this chapter. If that triggers something, then please, DO NOT READ THIS. I'd rather you be safe than me have a couple more views on my fanfiction.

2015

Annabeth walks home after her encounter with Cupid.

Sure, she could fly to her apartment, but she needs a time longer to collect her thoughts. She stares at her feet, hands in her pockets, not blinking.

If they could see her, a few people might think the latter as weird, but no one pays attention to her. Even when she walks right through them.

She climbs up the fire escape around three or four in the morning. She just wants to collapse and fall asleep, not stay awake all night (well, morning) with ponderings of Bianca's death is my fault and another person's death will be my fault.

She's nearly onto her platform of the fire escape, and almost jumps out of her skin when a voice says in the darkness, "Where'd you run off to?"

She nearly accuses the voice of being Cupid, but then she catches sight of the glow in the dark design Percy had been wearing on his shirt yesterday, and relaxes with a sigh. "You scared me, Percy," she says, chuckling a little bit.

He repeats his question. "Where'd you run off to?"

"I just…" She struggles to find the words to spin. "I just needed to clear my head, you know?"

He nods, and she realizes he's shivering. She cocks her head at him. "Do you want to go inside?"

It takes him a moment, but he whispers, "Yes, please." He moves so that Annabeth can slide open the window, and she gestures for him to go inside first.

"I don't have any electricity," she reminds him, shutting the window behind her after she's climbed in, "but there's blankets on my bed and I can find those candles…" She turns around to face him, and her breath catches in her throat.

Tears stream down his cheeks and he's opening his arms, waiting for a hug. She doesn't hesitate to give it to him; taking a step forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, and pulling him towards her.

Percy buries his face in his shoulder. His limbs are wrapped around her so tightly, like he's afraid she might disappear if he loosens his grip even a tiny bit. He starts to break down, sobbing and shaking into her embrace.

"Shh, shh, shh," Annabeth whispers, rubbing his hand up and down his back. "It's oka–" She cuts herself off, because it's not okay. Some mad god is planning on killing one of her friends every two weeks if she doesn't get the boy in her arms to fall in love with her. Not to mention said boy is taken.

So, yeah. Not okay.

"You're here," she murmurs into his ear instead. "I'm here. Tyson and Nico and Rachel and Hazel and Jason are all here too. Bianca may not be, but…everyone else is safe." At least for two weeks, she finishes in her head.

He sobs harder. He bites down on her shoulder to muffle the sad cries and angry screams, and she lets him. She can't really feel the pain anyway, but she guesses he's going to leave a mark.

The sobs and screams and tears finally stop, but they stay in place for a long while, because he's shaking and trying to catch his breath.

"It isn't fair," he stresses, warm, hiccup-y breath fanning out across her neck.

"I know," she murmurs, running a hand up and down his back.

"It isn't fair," he repeats, before adding onto his sentence. "First my dad, and now Bianca? How many people will God kill off before he decides I've finally had enough? Because I've already had enough."

"Nobody else is going to die," she assures him. Her stomach ties itself into knots at the lie.

He chuckles without humor. "That's a pretty big promise to keep, Annabeth."

"But it's one I hope to," she mumbles to herself more than Percy. "Here," she says louder, and leads him over to her bed and lets him get cuddled up in her blankets. She grabs her candles, lights them, and sets them on the window sil as she had done so many nights ago.

When Annabeth faces him again, Percy's peering at her like he can't figure her out, but wants to. She furrows her eyebrows. "Are you okay?"

"Why aren't you crying?" he asks bluntly. "You look super sad like everyone else but everyone else is crying. So…why aren't you crying?"

Because I'm dead and have no bodily functions. She walks over and sits next to him, tucking one knee to her chest. "My ma always used to tell me, 'Annabeth, don't cry,'" she says instead, chuckling, not even trying to impersonate her mother because she's long since forgotten what Athena sounds like. "'It makes your face all blotchy and ugly. Look at Silena Beauregard; she doesn't cry, and see how beautiful she is?'"

Her words earn a small chuckle from Percy. "She actually said that?" he questions. She nods. "How old were you?"

"About six or seven? I honestly don't remember."

"Was she mean, or something?"

She shakes her head. "No. My hometown…they were just…really, really old-fashioned. If you weren't pretty, you couldn't get a husband, and that's all that mattered for girls and women; get a husband."

"Did you?"

"Hmm?"

"Want a husband?"

"Kind of." She traces two of her fingers over the mattress. "Well, I mean, everyone dreams of finding true love and all that, including me, but it wasn't my priority. I spent more time thinking about which pranks to pull with my brothers than who I'm going to cour–date, than other girls."

"Were there…" Percy clears his throat and, when she looks at him, his eyes are turned to the ceiling. "Were there any guys that you had your eye on?"

"There was this one boy," she admits, flashing back to blond hair and blue eyes. "His name was Argus. He was my best friend's brother. But…I haven't seen him in a really long time."

"Oh."

They slide into silence, content with sitting there. Slowly, the pair leans against each other, until their bodies are pressed up against the others. Percy shifts slightly, and Annabeth looks up at him. They're so close the tips of their noses are brushing.

He opens his mouth. "I–"

"Percy! Annabeth! Come up here, please!" comes a voice form above.

"That was my mom," he says.

"Mm-hmm."

"We should probably get up."

"Yeah."

But they don't, and she's okay with that. She could sit here for years, staring into his sea green eyes.

Yep, she thinks, green is my favorite color.

Green.

Green with envy.

Rachel.

Cupid.

Grief.

The train of thought causes her eyes to widen, and she jumps up like he burned her. "I–um–" She brushes invisible dirt off her shirt, stuttering. "W-we should p-probably see what Sally wants, huh?"

He's looking at her with a startled expression. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah," he agrees quietly. Then, he clears his throat and says louder, "Yeah. We should go."

He climbs out of the blankets, and she opens the window for both of them. They head up the fire escape to clamber into the Jackson's apartment, where Sally is waiting for them.

"Finally," Sally says. Her hair is up in a messy bun and her eyes are brimmed with red. It looks like she hasn't gotten any sleep yet, which it probably true. "Percy, dear, I already set out pajamas if you want to change. There's pillows and blankets on the couch for you, Annabeth."

"But…" Her eyes flash over to the couch, where Sally has made the comfiest looking bed setup that Annabeth has seen in a while. She shakes her head. "Mrs. Jackson, you really didn't have to do all this. I'll be fine."

"Dear." Sally places a hand on her arm. "You saw your friend get shot just hours ago. I'm not letting you sleep in that cold apartment all on your own."

Her chest tightens, and she swallows the lump in her throat. "Thank you," she whispers.

"No problem." Sally smiles and squeezes her arm before letting go. "You can pick whatever pajamas you please. Mine might be too small, so you might want to grab Percy's…" She rambles on.

Ten minutes later, Annabeth is clad in a pair of Percy's sweatpants and a shirt of his that only slightly hangs off her frame. (She is an inch or two taller than him.) She's brushed her teeth with a toothbrush Sally handed her, and she's climbing onto the couch.

She rolls herself in the blankets. Sally comes by and kisses the top of her head, like she's already adopted the blond into the family.

Even though she can't find sleep, there's this warmth in her chest that makes her smile throughout the rest of the morning.

;

1891

Athena and Frederick refuse to look at each other.

Ever since Frederick slapped her, they've been avoiding the other like a plague. Annabeth knows that Malcolm is picking up on the weird vibes, and Bobby and Matthew are starting to, too.

Annabeth doesn't let her parents be alone at any point in time. She can't really do anything if Frederick were to try anything else again, but she likes to think that she can. Likes to trick herself into thinking that Athena and Frederick can see her, and won't do anything in front of her that might cause damage to her.

It's impossible, she knows, but what is mankind without hope?

This day, she's staring intently at her mother from where she sits at the table. Athena is currently putting sheets on the sofa in the parlor, moving around the assortment of throw pillows. She seems to be deep in thought, her brow creased.

She wipes her palms on her dress as she disappears down the hallway to where her and Frederick's room is located.

Speaking of Frederick: The blond man swings the front door open a couple minutes after she does this. He doesn't announce his presence–instead opts for searching the house for any sign of another living human being.

When he stumbles upon the parlor, he stares at the set up on the sofa until Athena enters the room.

"What is this?" he asks gruffly.

"Oh!" Athena, previously not aware of his presence, nearly drops the larger pillow that she's holding. She fumbles for it before hugging it to her chest. "Frederick!" she exclaims. "I-I didn't…know that you'd be home so soon. I thought you were comin' home with Mal–"

"What is this?" he demands, cutting her off.

Athena face loses all color, and Annabeth pushes back her chair to stand next to her mother. Neither of them are aware of the ghost in their house.

"I-I just thought…" She takes a deep breath and meets Frederick's eyes. "I just thought that I could sleep in here for the next few nights."

"What?!" He takes a threatening step forward, and she takes a terrified one back. They're in the hallway, now.

She opens her mouth to reply, raising a hand in the air, and he roughly grabs that hand, pinning it over her head. He shoves her against the wall roughly.

"Pa!" Annabeth claws at his back, trying to throw him off, but she slips right through and falls on the floor.

"You are my wife," he stresses. "You sleep with me."

"Well, I–" Athena levels her steel gaze with his. "We aren't speaking, Frederick."

"What'f one of the boys found 'at, huh?" he demands. "What'f they saw that instead of me? What would they think?"

"The boys aren't allowed in the parlor!" Athena snaps, her face turning bright red with rage. "Only Annabeth was allowed in the parlor, and you–you know that!"

"You. Are. My. Wife," Frederick repeats, voice deathly low. "A wife always sleeps with her husband."

"We aren't actin' like husband and wife!" she yells, finally cracking. "If you hadn't been such a–such a–such an asshole than maybe I wouldn't of had to do this! Maybe–"

She's cut off by a slap to the cheek, and Annabeth hears the front door open. "How dare you," Frederick whispers, bringing his hand up again.

"Ma! Pa!" Annabeth cranes her neck to see Malcolm entering the house with a big smile on his face. "I'm ho–" Until he sees the predicament his parents are in, and his eyes go wide.

"Malcolm!" Athena cries, catching sight of her second-born.

Frederick whips around, immediately releasing his wife. She slides to the ground, clutching her wrist. "Mal–" he tries, but Malcolm has already sprinted out the door.

"Malcolm!" Annabeth shouts, scrambling up to run after him, though he can't hear her. He dashes out into the woods, jumping over shrubbery and weaving in between trees. She follows him to his unknown destination, not wanting him to be alone after what he just witnessed.

He leads her out to a clearing, and her breath hitches and she stops dead in her tracks when she sees the broken-down shed off to the side. Malcolm runs right in, though, slamming the door shut behind him. Sobs come out of the rotted wood.

Annabeth can't believe it. They haven't been here in years–not since the Lee Thing.

If he came here of all places, then he must be seriously upset. And this is just the beginning of their parents' fights; she doesn't want to know where he'll go next time, or the time after that.

Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, she steps forward, ready to comfort him in whatever way she can.

But then, she hears something–twigs snapping and the sound of muffled speaking. She changes her direction and walks over to the treeline, peering into the woods from where she heard the noises.

She catches sight of dark hair and instantly recognizes the voice.

Lou Ellen?

The sheriff's daughter seems to be on a mission, stumbling over rocks in a straight line. Annabeth furrows her brow, wondering what she's up to.

She glances at the shed, then at Lou Ellen. She does this several times.

Then, just as Lou Ellen is about to fall out of sight, she makes up her mind and follows Lou Ellen into the unknown.

;

Lou Ellen mutters to herself as she walks through the woods, following the footsteps in reverse. She trips over another rock, causing another round of grumbles to escape her mouth.

She glances behind her, like contemplating going back, but then she shakes her head. "No," she says to herself. "Father's not gettin' any closer. I gotta find the killer."

Annabeth floats behind her, desperately wishing that Lou Ellen would just give up. She doesn't want her friend getting tangled up in this. "Jus' leave it ta your father!" Annabeth exclaims, but she doesn't hear her. She continues following the footsteps the Chases' left.

The ground begins to slope slightly, before taking a drastic dip into the earth. Lou Ellen stops so that she doesn't fall into the ditch Luke put Annabeth's body in.

She maneuvers around it, circling like a vulture. She stops to peer at anything that stands out–a rock that glints in the sun, a track left by an animal, a green leaf amongst the dead brown ones. She bends down for one of the latter.

The leaf is on its way to decay, brown covering the tip and edges of it, but there's an unnatural rust-colored spot in the middle. Lou Ellen picks it up, peering, before nudging the leaves it had rested on away. Where the grass should have been green, it's the some rust color on the leaf.

Lou Ellen starts shoving the mass of leaves in a straight line. More rust-painted grass.

It's a trail, Annabeth realizes. Probably of her own blood.

Lou Ellen braches out, and, sure enough, this grass is a healthy green. A triumphant smile spreads across her lips.

"Got you," she whispers.

;

2015

When Annabeth hears someone's door open, she turns onto her side and pretends to be asleep.

The person, obviously tired, runs into some piece of furniture, cursing out loud, and Annabeth identifies it as Percy.

"Percy?" she asks, trying her hardest to lace sleep into her voice. "Is that you?"

It takes a minute, but he replies, "Yeah. It's me." She pushes herself up onto her elbows, and the boy comes into view when he flicks on the kitchen lights. From the way he and the light are positioned, she can't see his face, but she can see the way he holds himself. He probably looks horrible.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" He cocks his head at her and props his arms up on the counter. She can make out a rectangle-like object in his hands; probably a phone. No light is glaring from it, though, so she isn't sure.

"A little bit, yeah," she lies, playing off the oh yeah I'm definitely normal and can sleep and stuff vibe. Hopefully. "Is something…else….wrong?"

She can feel him staring at her, and it unnerves her a little that she can't see his face. Then, he sighs, dropping his head a little. "Yeah. I just…" He walks over and plops miserably on the couch, not waiting for her to move her legs. It doesn't hurt her to have his weight on her, anyway.

Percy clicks the button on his now-confirmed iPhone, and Annabeth catches sight of a picture containing himself, Sally, and Tyson. "Rachel isn't texting me back."

She stiffens, a little bit, at the mention of his girlfriend. Dangerous territory, confirms the rather large part of her that's flashing red lights. Abort! Abort!

But he looks so sad, staring pitifully at his lock screen like he's willing it to ping with a new message. So, she nudges him with the foot trapped under his leg, and says, "She's had a long night, Percy. We all have. If she's getting sleep after what happened, then, well, good for her. That makes at least one of us."

"But…I thought you said I woke you?"

"Dreams," she blurts as an explanation. "Memories. Somewhere in between. Bad ones."

His face softens. "What kind of bad dreams/memories? But if you don't want to talk about it," he hurries, "then that's perfectly fine."

"No. I just…" She sighs, and wraps her arms around herself, not meeting his eyes. "I've seen a lot of people die, you know? In front of me. Important people to me. And I…I don't know…I kind of hoped that I'd left Death behind a long time ago."

A hand cups her knee. She looks up to be met with earnest, sea-green eyes, and it–strangely–reminds her of a baby seal.

She forces an awkward chuckle out of her mouth. "I probably made you all sad again, huh?"

He shakes his head. "No. I like learning new things about you." He squeezes her knee, and she'd be dying of embarrassment at how deep her blush was, if she could.

She clears her throat, looks away to steel her nerves, and glances back at her. "Well, you wanna know something I learned about you?"

"What?"

Wiggling her feet, she says, "You're heavy, that's what." She gets a small smile and an attempt to put more weight on her legs. "Get off!" she complains, shoving his shoulder.

He topples off of her, and the couch. "Ow!" he whines. He flips over so that he's staring at her, and sticks his tongue out.

"You're lucky I didn't jump on you like last time," she jests.

Percy brings a hand up to his face and starts laughing–like, hysterically. She laughs a little, too, but really; her joke wasn't even fully a joke, or a good one at that.

Then, the laughter starts to dissolve into sobs. He brings his knees up to his chest and curls into himself.

"Hey." She scrambles onto the floor and cups his cheek, nudging so that he meets her eyes. "What happened just then?"

"It doesn't feel right," he tells her, voice thick.

"What doesn't?"

"Laughing. So soon after Bianca…" He chokes up, and reaches an arm around to grasp her shoulder blade.

She tugs him a little closer, setting her chin atop of his head. "Then we won't laugh," she says softly. "Not now, anyway. But…further down the road, we will. You will. And…I'll be there." She squeezes her eyes shut, regretting the last sentence. Why did she have to say that?

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

;

Annabeth stays with the Jacksons' for a couple more days. Sally doesn't want her to be alone, and Annabeth doesn't want Percy to be alone, so she's fine with it.

The morning after Bianca's demise, Sally sends Annabeth and Percy away to go set coffee from the Coffee Cloud so she can explain what's happened to Tyson, and when they come back, he's locked himself in his room.

It takes the combined efforts of Sally and Percy to get him to come out, while Annabeth awkwardly stands off to the side.

Mr. and Mrs. di Angelo come over one day before she leaves for her own apartment, explaining how Nico refuses to get out of bed, and how they–plus Mr. Grace–sent Hazel to go out for the day with her boyfriend Frank Zhang, Jason, and Piper. Mr. and Mrs. di Angelo seem to need a shoulder to cry on, and Sally is happy to lend hers, gaining some comfort in return.

The day that Annabeth decides to leave, she makes breakfast. She cooks old-fashioned pancakes and donuts from scratch. Percy adds blue food dye when she turns her back, and a bit of a hollow feeling settles in her chest as she places the blue flapjacks on the table.

They remind her of Bianca, and how they met.

It doesn't help that she's wearing a shirt that the Italian had picked out, too.

;

There's a knock on her window a day after she's moved back in.

She goes into the main room, expecting it to be Percy, but Piper McLean's face peers through the glass. A couple pairs of legs surround her.

Piper waves at her, and Annabeth points to herself with eyebrows raised. The brunette nods, and, wow, they can see her? Percy must be standing directly over her, or something.

She walks over and opens the window, letting in Piper, Frank Zhang, Leo Valdez, and a caramel-haired girl that she's sure she's never seen before. Judging by how Leo holds the girl's hand, this is the girlfriend Leo had told her about.

What's her name? Medea? Circe?

Frank frowns in concern. "Are you okay, Annabeth? You look a little pale."

Annabeth brings a hand up to her face, like she could actually feel the difference. "Yeah. I'm fine," she assures him. "It's probably the lighting. Or, lack thereof." She looks at the caramel-haired girl. "Who's this?"

"This is–" Leo starts, but the girl cuts him off.

"I'm Calypso," she introduces herself. "Leo's girlfriend and Bianca's ex."

"Oh." Annabeth's eyes widen at the second title.

Then she feels bad about her reaction, because it's already fucking 2015, and here she is, acting like the narrow-minded person she was raised. She hoped she had been long past homophobia after coming to terms with the whole Lee thing, but apparently not.

She ropes in her expression and offers Calypso her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Calypso takes it after sizing her up. "You too."

"Not to be rude or anything," she starts after pulling away, "but what are you doing at my…" She glances down, and kicks aside a shirt from the 80's that should have been thrown out a long time ago. "…humble abode?"

"Well," Piper says, "after everything that happened with Bianca, we had this idea…"

"I had this idea," Leo cuts in. Piper glares at him, but he continues explaining. "We go around to all Bianca's favorite places and do her favorites things, to remember everything that she liked. …Everything that she was like."

"We'll bring everybody, too," Frank adds. "Hazel, Jason, Nico, Percy, Tyson…"

She blinks at them. All she got when she died was a funeral, a couple prayers for her family, and fighting parents. Her friends and family mourned her, of course, but they'd never done anything like this.

"What? Don't you like it?" Piper questions, and Annabeth realizes she had just been staring at them for a moment or two.

"No! No, I do," she says quickly. "I was just…wrapping my head around it. Imagining what it'll be like." She smiles at them. "I like it."

"So…" Leo gives a wicked grin back. "You're in?"

She nods. "I'm in."

"Good," Calypso says. "Do you have any paper, or anything? We should probably start writing down some ideas."

"Yeah. Sure. Let me get it…" She turns around, biting her lip, and scans all her boxes, trying to remember which one had the paper in it. She kneels in front of it and searches through her stuff.

Leo and Piper start spouting out ideas immediately, Frank and Calypso giving their input. They sound so happy to be doing something for their deceased friend that it causes a slight smile to stretch across Annabeth's lips.

Then it falls.

One of them could be the person to die in nine days' time, she remembers.

She finds the paper. Standing up, she plasters a fake smile on her face, pretending that she hasn't signed all their death wishes just by talking to Percy, and hands the sheets out.

AN: Yes, in this story, I made Calypso bisexual. She's a Titan, and–lesbi honest here, people–every Titan and god has more likely than not slept around with the same sex a couple times. That fact is pretty crystal queer.

This was not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. If you see any errors, please inform me so I may fix them.

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or the iPhone in any way, shape, or form.

Constructive criticism welcome, and reviews might stop Cupid from being such an asshole! (But not really. He was born for that role.) Still, reviews fuel me to keep writing this story!