AN: Well, damn. It's been a while, huh? Sorry. My sister was hospitalized for a week, and I didn't get much writing (or sleep, for that matter) done during or after. But this is easily the longest chapter I've posted for this story, so, yay!
YEEEEEEEAH! We got TWENTY reviews on the last chapter. Dudes. You guys are awesome. This actually has more reviews then favorites. (I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing…) Maybe we can get twenty-five on this one?
To FizzyColaBottle310: I shall never stop with the puns! BWA HA HA!
To Horse1lover3: But then Rachel won't be happy. :(
To ImpulsesOfLife: You're right on the Officer Reynolds and Wilden. I wasn't thinking about the Jenna Thing while I wrote the Lee Thing, but it could be considered a reference.
To HydraCourt: But breaking hearts is one of my favorite pass times! (Not really, though.)
To liaregie: 1) She is quite nice, isn't she? 2) I don't believe he gets taller than her until Heroes of Olympus, and they're both (physically) sixteen in this story, so, yes. She is taller than him. 3) Reasons. 4) Yes! We figure out why Lou Ellen is going through all this trouble to bring down Annabeth's killer in this chapter. (But not before Percabeth feels, so be sure not to skip!) 5) A bit before then girls got married at age twelve, so I think dating at sixteen/fifteen is rather reasonable. 6) Jokes! 7) I like it go for the unexpected. ;). 8) There must be puns. (Wow, you really have a long review, don't you? I'm flattered.)
To Lost-In-A-New-World: Thank you!
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson, Milky Ways, The Lion King, Lilo and Stitch, Titanic, or Brother Bear in any way, shape, or form.
Piper presses the end of her eraser to one of the business cards she brought. "Bianca said she got all her books from this store."
"Yes," Frank starts, "but will they really just let us hang around so that we can pay tribute?"
Nodding, Leo adds, "It might be one of those 'you have to buy something to use our bathroom' stores."
"True." Piper bites the end of her pencil; a habit of hers Annabeth is coming to notice since they started planning their tribute to Bianca three days ago. "What do you suggest, then?"
"We used to spend a lot of time in the library," Calypso says wistfully. She gazes down at her hands, currently rested in her lap, with a faraway look in her eyes. She laces her own fingers together. "We'd just sit there…reading. In that corner that nobody but us used, judging by the dust."
Leo shifts as his girlfriend reminisces about her ex, but doesn't call her out on it. They've all done their fair share of drawing on memories of Bianca. Annabeth thinks that Leo's sweet for not getting mad. Albeit, he's clearly a bit uncomfortable, but…
"What do you think, Annabeth?" Piper asks.
"Hmm?" Tugged out of her ponderings, Annabeth glances at her. "What do I think about what?"
"Where do you think Bianca would have gone; the library, or the bookstore?" she quips.
"I-I don't know," Annabeth says honestly. "I didn't…" Know her very well. "She didn't talk about where she got her books, or if she rented them."
Piper sighs. "Thanks anyway."
"But-but I think that we should go to the library instead," Annabeth hurries. "I mean. I think Percy said something about Bianca volunteering there one summer?"
The others consider this. "Yeah," Calypso agrees. "That was before we…you know, dated…and she talked about it sometimes. The librarian always seemed to know her name."
"Then it's settled," Annabeth says, spreading her arms. "We'll go to the library."
Piper opens her mouth to say something else, but her cellphone pings. She picks it up and checks the message. "Damn. It's my dad." She stands, brushing the dust that Annabeth can't get out of the apartment off her jeans. "Sorry, guys. I gotta go."
Frank checks his phone, too. "I should probably get moving, too," he says.
Leo frowns. "I thought you weren't taking your grandmother out for her birthday until seven-ish."
"Yeah, but I'm going to stop by Hazel and Nico's. See if they need anything."
"How is Nico doing?" Annabeth asks. "I haven't seen him in a while. Is he talking to anyone yet?"
Frank sighs and hangs his head. "No." There's purple bruises under his eyes that no one as good as Frank deserves. Everyone is too good for the mess Annabeth has forced them into. "He isn't even talking to Hazel. It's stressing her out… More."
"That's…sad," Calypso says with a frown. "I'll make sure to head there tomorrow." He gives her a thankful smile, and she returns with a tired one.
"We'll take her to the movies, or something," Piper agrees. She walks over to the window; the wood giving a creak as she slides it open. She juts her chin at Leo. "C'mon, Repair Boy. I'll drop you off."
Leo nods and hops up. He pecks Calypso–the only one aside from Annabeth still sitting–on the lips before following Piper out the window. Frank salutes his goodbye, and then he's gone, too.
Calypso stretches. Annabeth hears her neck creak from all the restless nights. She stands, too, sighing as she reaches her arms over her head. "Do you need any help cleaning up, Annabeth?" she asks, offering the blonde her hand. She takes it, and let's herself get hauled up.
"Nah," Annabeth says, looking at the business cards and candy wrappers (Leo always brought treats, as if Milky Ways would succeed in cheering everyone up, since his humor has failed to do so) that littered her carpet. "I'll be fine…Like every other day you've asked."
"I know, I know. It helps distract you, and all that, but I just…" Calypso lets out a frustrated sigh, tugging roughly at her own caramel hair like she's trying to pull the words right out of her brain. "…feel like I need to repay you."
She cocks her head to the side. "Whatever for?"
"I don't know. Just…" She makes a vague gesture with her hands. "Letting us plan this here. There's no way my dad would let me bring Leo into the house."
Annabeth offers a sympathetic smile. "Your dad hard on the people you bring home?"
"You have no idea," Calypso says, followed by a short chuckle, devoid of humor. She clears her throat. "I know you only knew Bianca for a couple weeks, so…Thank you. For even considering doing this kind of thing for her."
She shrugs. "It's nothing special, really. I'm just…helping Bianca go out in style."
Before she knows what's happening, she's being tackled with a hug. Calypso's arms wrap around her neck and her nose hits Annabeth's shoulder, the blonde being a half a head taller.
"You're a good person, Annabeth," Calypso informs her. "Don't let anyone tell you differently."
"Um…Thanks…?" Annabeth pats her back awkwardly. Her body tingles, as if her nerve endings are trying to revive themselves.
Calypso pulls away as quickly as she latches on. She's waving at the blonde and ducking out the window a moment later.
Annabeth frowns and looks down, drawing her eyebrows together. Spotting all the candy wrappers, she gets to cleaning.
You're a good person, Annabeth.
She laughs bitterly under her breath. "Would she still be saying that if she knew that I technically killed Bianca?" she muses to herself.
Picking up as many candy wrappers she can hold, she heads to her barren kitchen (no one would know it's a kitchen if not for the tile) and dumps it all in the trash can Sally had gotten for her after seeing she didn't have one.
When she exits the kitchen, Percy is standing in the middle of her living room. "Oh. Hey, Percy," Annabeth greets. She's used to the sight of him in her apartment. He's come over a lot in the past few days.
"Hey," he returns, taking a step closer. "I just saw Calypso's car pull away. Was there anything she needed?"
"No," she says. "We were just practicing spells for our witch's cult." She earns a half-hearted smile for her efforts. "Do you need anything, Percy?"
"Well, yeah. I…" Pink tinting his cheeks, he pulls out a movie case from behind his back. "I was wondering if…you wanted to…maybe watch this with me? Bianca and I used to watch it all the time when we were little, and I just…" He looks away.
She makes him look back with a hand on his shoulder. "Of course, Percy," she murmurs.
He lets out a nervous chuckle. "Good. I didn't know if you'd…"
"What did you think I was going to go?" She chuckles, too, but it's less nervous and a bit more forced. "Throw you out?"
"Tyson did," he mutters, looking down at their feet. Annabeth realizes how close she'd gotten to him, but doesn't have the strength to pull away. "He said he…He said he didn't want to talk about her any more. Ever again, were his words."
"I'm sor–" He might not appreciate the sorry, so she switches her words. "That sucks."
"Yeah." He runs a tired hand over his face before meeting her eyes.
Drawing her eyebrows together, she asks, "Have you been sleeping lately?"
"Not really, no. I…" He leans his head to the side, and somehow her hand had reached up so that she could swipe her thumb along the bags under his eyes without her notice. Her eyes widen.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. She jerks her hands back, removing herself from Percy in a not-so subtle way. She wipes her palms on her jeans in a way that people would probably find offensive.
He's giving her a bewildered look. "I didn't mean–" She stops herself, because she totally meant to hold him. She wants to. Really, she needs to.
"How about that movie, huh?" she forces out instead. "It looks swell."
He glances down at the case in his hands like he hadn't remembered it was there. "Yeah, I guess, but we should ta–"
"Then let's go watch it! Like, right now!" She spins him around and shepherds him out the window and up the fire escape, hopefully to where Sally or Tyson would be.
Sally (now Annabeth's new favorite person in the entire universe) is in the kitchen, staring at the computer screen. Her pointer finger hovers over the keyboard, like she wants to write but doesn't know what of.
"Hey, Ms. Jackson!" Annabeth waves, maybe a little too dramatically.
Sally rubs her forehead tiredly before giving the blonde an equally exhausted smile. "Hello, dear. How does the day find you?"
"Oh. You know." I'm totally crushing on your son and totally freaking out about it right now. How about you? "Rather average," she says. "Percy and I are gonna watch a movie, so if it gets too loud–"
"Oh, no, that's fine, dear." Like a scene from her worst nightmares, Sally picks up her laptop and tucks it under her shoulder. "I'll clear out of here."
No, no, no, no no no, nononono. No. "Okay," Annabeth says, mustering a smile.
Once Sally (whom is nowhere close to being Annabeth's favorite person anymore) has disappeared in the hallway, Percy opens his mouth to speak, but Annabeth beats him to it. "How about you go put in the movie while I make the popcorn, yeah?"
He nods. "Sure." Though it looks like he wants to say more, he turns on his heel towards the living room.
She finds the Whirly Pop and the kernels and everything else she needs. She hears him playing through all the ads, and then there's rustling, like he's replacing the pillows on the couch.
"Make sure to put butter on it, please!" he requests from the other room.
"Already done." She adds a dash of salt before popping a kernel into her mouth. She can't taste it, but the texture is alright, so hopefully Percy finds it good. Grabbing the bowl, she walks out to the kitchen, to be greeted by a structure in on the ground.
Pillows are the walls and a blanket is thrown over it to make up the roof. It's backed up against the wall.
"Uh, Percy?" Annabeth asks. She can't see him. "What is this?"
He sticks his head out of the "entrance" of the structure, beaming. "It's a pillow fort, of course!" he answers in an uh, duh voice. "Didn't you make any of these when you were little?"
"I…No. I didn't."
The smile falls from his face. "Oh. Do you…think it's childish?"
"A little, yeah."
He frowns, and Annabeth immediately misses the rare smile on his lips. "I'll just take it down, I guess…" he mumbles, dragging himself out of the fort.
"Wait!" He looks up at her. She places the bowl down so that she can fiddle with her thumbs and try to get him smiling again. "I-I mean that your craftsmanship is childish."
He raises his eyebrows at her. "What?"
"Y-yeah. I mean, we've got all these wonderful materials at our disposal, and this is all that you can come up with?" she demands, gesturing to all the discarded pillows and blankets Percy hadn't used. "Move over. I'll show you how to build a real man's pillow fort."
He shimmies over so that she can crawl in. Under her guidance, they tear down the fort start from scratch. They place down pillows and drag over chairs to string up their blankets. Annabeth suggests that they use the front of the couch as the back wall, so that there's more pillows to build a second room, and then a third. The finished product spans across most of the living room, and they're both giggling like madmen by the time they're almost done.
"Ugh!" Percy struggles to get the last blanket pinned under a chair. It doesn't quite reach. "I don't think this is going to make it. We might need duct tape."
Annabeth nods. "Where is it?"
Still holding the corner of the blanket, he points with his free hand to a tall end table. She stands and pads over, opening the drawer. She spots the duct tape immediately, her fingers reaching out to grasp it, but then she sees what lays on top of it.
It's an old Western-style revolver. It reminds her of Luke's gun, and she rips away her hand as if she'd been burned.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She tries to school her features. It would raise questions, if she reacts badly to a gun that should have no meaning to her. "You…uh…keep a gun where Tyson could grab it?"
"Oh! Yeah, that? That doesn't work. It's some family heirloom. My great-something-granddaddy Grace lost his life when the bullet jammed during a high noon shoot-off, or something. Nobody's been able to open it or shoot it since then."
"O-okay." She steels her nerves and reaches in again, but haunting images of her brother pointing a weapon much like this at her flood her mind, and she jerks back again, letting out a pitiful whine.
"Are you sure you're okay, Annabeth?"
She nods. "Yeah. I just…didn't have the best experience with guns." As if to prove a point, her hands go to the hem of her shirt, lifting up the fabric so that it bunches around her ribs on the right side.
"Holy shit, Annabeth!" Percy is kneeling beside her in a moment, letting go of the blanket. The entire fort collapses, but Percy is too busy studying the scar tissue on her body.
The scar wouldn't have been that bad if it was just a bullet wound, but she guesses that she hadn't died right away (instead, she most likely slowly bled out in the ditch until morning, but didn't remember it), and when Luke had dragged her unconscious body through the woods, twigs and roots and rocks had further opened her wound.
Marred flesh spans across her abdomen and over the skin pulled over her ribs, always an angry red or pink. Percy drags his thumb on the scar tissue. "How did you get this?" he whispers, his eyes haunted.
"Th-that doesn't matter!" she insists, batting his hands away and pulling her shirt down. She doesn't like the way he's looking at her. As if she's made of glass. As if she could break at any moment. As if she's not strong enough for the weight of her own scars.
"Who could shoot–Who could hurt you like this, Annabeth?" he demands, looking enraged. "I-I'll beat him into the ground!"
"It doesn't matter," she states. "He's long gone, Percy. There's nothing you can do to him."
"But–"
"Can we not talk about this? Please?" she pleads. "I really don't want to drag up any more bad memories that I've already gone over in the middle of the night."
He looks like he's about to protest, but he grudgingly accepts the fact that she doesn't want to talk about her scars. "Fine," he sighs, and she gives a thankful smile.
There's no hope in rebuilding the pillow fort in a reasonable amount of time, so they climb on top of the mountain of cushions with the popcorn on Annabeth's lap. Percy presses the Play button on the remote.
Throughout the movie, Annabeth makes remarks like "He wouldn't be able to survive on just bugs," and "Wouldn't she be either his half-sister or cousin?" and Percy just rolls his eyes, telling her not to question it. They giggle and sing along, though Percy's eyes drift down to where her scar is located under her shirt every so often.
They watch several more movies after that. Her favorite is about a little girl befriending an alien, and then a film about a poorly-made ship crashing into an ice burg turns Percy into a blubbering mess.
("Why didn't he get on the raft with her?" "Because he loves her, Annabeth!" "But there's clearly enough room for both of them–" "STOP QUESTIONING THIS BEAUTIFUL MASTERPIECE, YOU UNCULTURED SWINE!")
It's getting dark outside by their sixth movie, and it's clearly taking a toll on Percy. His head lolls to the side, dropping on her shoulder, and she freezes. It'd be rude to push him off (she swears that's the only reason she doesn't), so she slowly forces herself to relax.
"I think I get it," he mumbles sleepily. On screen, two brothers are morning the loss of their older brother, killed at the claws of a bear–or maybe that fall off the cliff did him in.
"Get what?" she prompts.
He lets out a loud yawn before muttering, "Why you tried to jump."
She tears her eyes off the screen in an instant to stare at him, explain to him that no, he shouldn't get it, but he's already fallen asleep.
;
1891
Annabeth follows Lou Ellen through the forest. She pleads and begs for her to stop, for her not to get mixed up in this, but the sheriff's daughter keeps trudging on, oblivious to the ghost shouting next to her.
The blood path leads them out to the treeline, right across the street from Luke's shop. Lou Ellen ducks behind a tree trunk at the sight of people trekking up and down the road, and sits there. She doesn't talk out loud for Annabeth to conveniently hear her plan, so Annabeth is stuck floating next to her.
It grows dark. An owl screeches somewhere deep in the woods. The sound that used to comfort Annabeth at night, after Athena told her of the bird's wisdom and guidance, but it makes her jump.
"You really should jus' tell your father about this. You don' owe me anythin'," Annabeth says, wringing her hands together. "Don't jus' go chargin' in, Lou. Mr. Thanatos'll know what ta do."
But Lou Ellen keeps staring ahead.
"Why can't you jus' listen to me?!" she demands.
No reaction.
"GAH!" She slams her fist into a tree with a scream of frustration. Why can't they stop and listen to me, if only for a moment? The skin over her knuckles break, but there's no trickle of blood. Annabeth realizes that all her blood is spattered on her dress (that she hasn't had the chance to change out of, by the way) and on the ground and all over Luke's hands, instead of pumping through her body.
Oh God, she thinks. I'm dead.
The full realization of this hits her like a runaway train. "Oh, God," she mutters, stumbling back. Her back slams on the tree. "Oh, God."
She had dreams. She was going to marry Argus, or maybe not, since there's so many other fish in the sea she could have met. She was going to leave this town and make the world a better place. She had a family; friends and parents and brothers she was ripped away from too early.
She had a life.
"God-fucking-dammit, I'm dead."
She's about to sink to her knees and try to see if she can cry now that's she's accepted her fate (or lack thereof), but the last light on the street goes out, and Lou Ellen is on her feet.
Annabeth wipes her eyes–kind of pointless, since she still can't cry–and scrambles up.
Searching for something, maybe a clue, Lou Ellen creeps up and down the street, completely silent thanks to the moccasins that have replaced her normal shoes for the night.
"Aha!" Lou Ellen says in triumph. Annabeth scrambles over and watches her lift a scrap of fabric from Annabeth's dress. The sheriff's daughter creeps closer to Luke's shop, finding a trailing of dried blood on the bottom of his wall.
"Could it be him…?" Lou Ellen mumbles to herself. She goes to open the door, but it's locked, and forcing her way in would surely wake Luke. She circles the building until she finds an unlocked window.
Carefully, Lou Ellen lifts the glass, stilling as it squeaked, but continuing when there's no movement from inside. Using a crate to boost her, she slips inside. Annabeth follows.
Like a fairy, Lou Ellen moves without noise. She shifts items on the shelves, obviously searching for something. Once she decides there's nothing there, she moves onto Luke's counter.
Annabeth keeps watch, nervously twiddling her thumbs and shifting her weight. What will Luke do if he finds Lou Ellen in here?
"Good Lord."
Annabeth scrambles over as Lou Ellen pulls out a rust-colored box. She gags, a little, when she figures out what it's painted in.
Taking a deep breath, Lou Ellen flicks the clasps and opens the lid. Inside are Annabeth's shoes…and Luke's gun. The murder weapon. Annabeth stares, wide-eyed, lump in her throat, as Lou Ellen carefully picks up the gun. She unlocks the barrel and grabs one of the bullets.
"Luke's the killer," she whispers. "I found 'im. I found your killer, Annabeth."
They're both so entranced by the gun that murdered Annabeth that they don't hear the person descending the stairs until it's too late.
"Malcolm? Is that you? If Mother needs sugar–" Luke cuts himself off when he realizes that it isn't Malcolm. His eyes widen when he sees what Lou Ellen's holding.
His stance turns offensive. Lou Ellen shrieks and runs to the door, rattling the knob, but it won't give. She makes a break for the window, but Luke is there, grabbing her shoulders and throwing her to the ground. She tries to cry out again. Luke clamps his hand over her mouth, shoving her head back into wooden floor.
"Give–me–that!" He finally rips the gun out of her hands, locking the barrel into place as he stumbles to his feet. He levels it at her.
Scrambling back, Lou Ellen opens her mouth to scream for help again, and Luke cuts her off with a creepily calm voice. "You dare shout a word, and you'll 'ave three bullets in your brain before the neighbors can hear you."
That makes Lou Ellen–nerves of steel, doesn't care about the consequences, sheriff's daughter Lou Ellen Thanatos–clamp her jaw shut and gulp visibly.
"Luke! Stop!" Annabeth rushes forward, tries to throw him aside, but just like with their father, she slips right through. She crashes into the wall, but neither Lou Ellen nor Luke give any indication of hearing her racket.
"Stand," Luke orders, voice deathly low. Lou Ellen scrambles up, clutching at the door handle, like the locked door might open from heat of her palm. "Turn around."
When she does, Luke, gun still leveled at her, fumbles around one of his shelves until he grabs the rope. He approaches her and binds her hands to her back with one hand.
"Tell me," Lou Ellen prompts, hissing when the gun digs into her back, "what are you goin' ta do ta me now that I know your darkest secret? That I know ya killed your own sister?"
His response is to dig the gun further into her skin, causing her back to arch to get away from the weapon. "Now, we're gonna go on a walk, and we're gonna go quietly. Got. That?"
She doesn't answer. He shoves her forward, turning around and leaving himself unguarded, but she can't do anything. Annabeth can't, either. No matter how hard she tries to untie Lou Ellen, her shaking fingers pass through the ropes.
After finding the key, Luke opens the door and pushes Lou Ellen through. He locks it behind him.
Hand on her shoulder and gun pressed firmly to her back, he leads her out into the woods. The winding path between trees and bushes is familiar, and it sends dread racing up Annabeth's throat as she does what she can; follow and not have a say about what is about to go down, as if a pathetic hunting dog.
It's rather fitting, actually. She does feel quite like a groveling animal, what with the way she's sobbing and begging as she stumbles alongside them, completely ignored.
Once they get to the ditch–the one where Annabeth woke up in–Luke shoves Lou Ellen down. She rolls down the side, powerless to stop the fall without her hands. She halts at the bottom, and flips herself over so that she's sitting. She's glaring at Luke with pure, unbridled hatred, but she looks like she might throw up at any moment.
He jumps down. He crouches in front of her, gun looking flimsy in his hand with the way he's holding it. His hair shines white in the moonlight, almost as if he's the ghost.
"What I want to know," he starts, twirling his gun, and her purple eyes train on the weapon, "is why ya've gone through so much trouble ta find me."
"Ya were sloppy, coverin' your tacks," Lou Ellen spits.
He levels the gun at her again. "I didn' ask how. What I done asked was wah-y?" He stands up, her chest heaving with a sigh of relief when the gun isn't pointed at her anymore. He begins to pace, hand stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"I mean, congratulations, ya found the killah, Lou," Luke says. "Your father clearly hasn't even got close. That would mean ya cared more 'bout this case than him." He looks at her again, but doesn't point the barrel at her. "But you don' owe Annabeth anythin'. You two were barely friends, if ya could even call it that."
Lou Ellen struggles, rolls her shoulders as the bonds clearly start to pull at her muscles all the wrong ways. "If tha roles were reversed, I know you woulda done the same thing fer Thalia."
Luke ponders this, seemingly not understanding. Then, his eyes widen in realization.
"You loved her," he breathes, his expression unguarded. "You loved her. More than Argus, apparently, since ya're tryin' ta find out what happened."
Lou Ellen sets her jaw, but doesn't deny anything. She keeps her eyes trained on his gun.
"Ya loved her, but yet, ya purposefully kept your distance, 'cause ya knew she could never be yours. But that didn't stop ya from fallin' for her."
He laughs. Annabeth can't tell if it's genuine or bitter. She's a tad bit in shock right now.
Lou Ellen loved her? As in, loved her like she was in love with her? How had she not noticed?
"And all these years, she knew ya had a crush. Lou Ellen; always watching, always staring, always blushing. Annabeth jus' thought tha crush was on me."
"Don't ya dare speak her name, you damn, disgusting pig!" Lou Ellen snarls. "You took her–from ya-self, your family, her friends, me." Her voice cracks, tears welling up in her eyes. "Annabeth was gonna have a happy life. A person like her don't come around often, and she deserved a happy life. Even if…even if I would jus' be watchin' from the sidelines."
She ducks her head, shoulders shaking. "WHY COULDN'T YA JUS' ACCEPT YOUR ROLE IN THALIA'S LIFE?!" she finally explodes. "EVEN IF YA CAN NEVER, EVER HAVE HER–" She deflates, breathing shallow.
"Why couldn't ya jus' find peace knowin' that that rich, blond future husband of hers would be able to provide for her in a way ya never can? Why couldn't ya jus' be happy wit' knowin' her? Bein' even a small part of her life?" she whispers, voice breaking and tears streaming down her face. "Now I can't because ya took all your anger out on Annabeth. While you–you, the sick bastard who killed his own sister, still gits ta see Thalia."
Lou Ellen's crying now, shaking with the force of her sobs. Luke crouches down again, but not to point his gun at her. His expression is pained, yet understanding, because, Annabeth realizes, he and Lou Ellen are in the almost exact same predicament.
Thalia loves Luke, but they can never be together. Not even secretly, because Thalia could be put to death for such a sin.
Annabeth and Lou Ellen can never be together. Not only would both be put to death, but Annabeth doesn't feel that way about Lou Ellen. She was just a friend to her. All women were.
"This is tha first time ya've let yourself cry fer her, huh?" Luke questions. All he gets in response are gasping sobs. "They woulda questioned ya, because ya really don't owe her anythin'. They would start talkin' and then they would figure out your sin. Best-case-scenario you'd be shipped off somewhere, away from 'er ta quell those sapphic feelin's. Worst case…death."
Lou Ellen glares up at him through eyelashes painted with tears. "Are you gonna kill me for lovin' her?"
He shakes his head. "Nah. Mah brother found 'imself in a per-dicament like yours. I'da have to put a bullet in his skull if I'd put one in yours for this. Ta me, for him, love is love, no matter the gender."
Lou Ellen sniffles, looking down at her lap. "So…ya're gonna let me go?"
The gun clicks, but she doesn't seem to hear it. "I'm sorry," Luke says, sounding truly sincere.
He levels the barrel at Lou Ellen.
"But no one can ever know about this," he says, and Lou Ellen looks up. She pushes herself away from him and the weapon as quick as she can, pleading rapidly for her life. He gives a sad smile. "When ya get ta Heaven, tell 'er that you love her, yeah?"
"Wait! Please, stop–"
BANG! BANG, BANG, BANG!
;
2015
Annabeth is terrified.
That remembrance tour for Bianca? Yeah, it landed exactly two weeks after her death, much to Annabeth's protest.
She was constantly shivering, looking over her shoulder for red eyes. It was snowing, thankfully, so she could play off her paranoia to the cold.
They visit an arcade where Bianca's initials are at the top of every high score list. Annabeth's worried that someone will get electrocuted by a broken power cord. That doesn't happen, and then they're–Piper, Frank, Calypso, Leo, Hazel, Percy, Jason, and herself, as Nico and Tyson refused to go–off.
They visit the library, and Annabeth waits for a bookshelf to tip over and crush somebody. That doesn't happen.
(Though Calypso looks a little crushed by memories as she stares at the corner she talked so fondly of.)
Rachel shows up as they arrive at a bridge that Bianca used to spend quite a bit of time at–a quiet structure, with no cars passing over and a frozen river going under it–and it's the first time Percy has seen her in person since Bianca's death.
He collapses into her arms immediately–"Why weren't you there? Why weren't you there?"
"I'm sorry," Rachel mutters, pressing kisses to his hair, his temples, his cheeks, his nose. "I just…needed some time. I was close to her, too. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
He forgives her, and Annabeth curls her lip at them. Where had Rachel been when Percy needed help? Annabeth had been the one to hold him and dry his eyes. He'd gone to her to watch movies, because Rachel had been unavailable.
Something twists in her chest at the realization.
Annabeth had been second choice. (Maybe even third, as Tyson could easily be second.) The back-up plan to cheer him up.
She growls low in her throat and tears her eyes away from the couple. She spots Calypso leaning against the railing, and makes her way over. She sets herself next to her.
"You guys spend a lot of time here?" Annabeth asks.
"Hmm?" Calypso pulls her longing gaze out of space and directs her attention at the blond. "Oh. Yeah." Her hand falls to a heart etched into the concrete, her fingers trailing over the engraved initials within. BA + CT. "This was where we had our first date, actually."
"Sounds like you guys had a fun time," she replies to Calypso, but she's looking over at where Percy and Rachel are embracing. Still. Hopefully anyone who looks back will think she's watching Leo, Jason, and Piper fool around to the best of their abilities.
"Definitely. I thought we were just going to the library, because she said she needed to return her book, but she surprised me here, with a candle-lit dinner. She asked me to go steady, since we had already kissed a couple times but never really ta–You like him, don't you?"
"I–What?" Annabeth immediately snaps her gaze back to Calypso. "I-I don't know what or whom you're talking about."
"Oh, please." Calypso rolls her eyes. "I saw the way–"
"Hey, Calypso!" The two girls turn to watch Leo clamber up onto the thick, concrete railing, arms spread. Further down the bridge, Hazel and Frank step out of the way for a biker. "I'm Queen of the world!" Leo shouts.
Calypso giggles. "You sure are," she says, and Annabeth thinks she's off the hook, but then she continues, "I saw the way you were looking at him. That wasn't a platonic look."
Annabeth sighs. She folds her arms and sets her chin on them, pouting. "And here I thought I was being subtle."
"Oh, you were," she agrees, a slight laugh to her voice to lessen the mood. "I'm just an expert at this kind of thing."
"What are you–Some kind of bisexual love goddess?"
"Pansexual, actually, so, something like that," Calypso says with a grin. It falls quickly, and she leans in close. "But, in all seriousness, you really don't want to go down that path. He's taken."
Annabeth chuckles bitterly. "What, really? I had no idea."
"Even though we just met, like, a week ago, I consider you a friend, Annabeth. I don't want to see you get your heart broken."
"It's not love…At least, I think so. Not yet. It's much too early for that."
"Well, then, good," Calypso says, her grin back. "If it's just a crush, then you can move on faster. I have a whole bunch of girl-friends who'd love to sink their teeth into a fine piece like you."
She thinks of Lou Ellen. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm straight, so…"
Calypso bumps their shoulders together. "Every girl is straight until they see Ruby Rose."
"Who's Ruby Rose?"
She earns a blank stare. "You seriously did not just ask me that." She opens her mouth, but Calypso is already talking again. "I'm going to walk away now, before I throw you off the bridge."
Annabeth raises an eyebrow as Calypso pulls away from the railing. "Just for not knowing who this…Sapphire Rose is?"
"Ruby! Ruby Rose!" Calypso calls from where she's already standing next to Piper and Jason.
Annabeth sets her chin back down on her arms, before lolling her head to the side so that she can watch as Leo shouts, "I'm Queen of the world!" over and over again. Hazel and Frank have made their way closer to the group, along with the biker.
She closes her eyes and draws in a deep breath that does nothing for her lungs. Friend. Calypso called her a friend. Do any of the others think of her as such yet? …Does Percy? If so, will he always think of her as just a friend?
That would be horrible, if he always would. Then there would be no other people to think of her as a friend.
An ear-piercing scream cuts through the air as Annabeth remembers, oh, yeah, someone's supposed to die today.
She opens her eyes just in time to see the biker, arm outstretched, staring at her with sharp blood red eyes and a taunting grin. Dread makes her freeze.
"LEO!" many, many people scream, and Annabeth notices Leo toppling forward, off the bridge, onto the river below. Frank and Percy tackle the man on the bike. She hears the ice CRACK under the weight of the Latino, and she rips herself away from the railing, close on Jason, Calypso, and Piper's heels.
The four dash down the slope and onto the ice. Calypso slips and falls, slamming into Piper. Jason practically rips off his jacket. He goes forward, as if he's about to jump into the hole in the freezing, icy water, and end another life today.
"Wait!" Annabeth grabs his shoulder and pulls him back, forcing him onto the ice with Piper and Calypso. She strips off her jacket as she sprints forward, diving into the river.
It's blue, blue, blue under the water, and hard to see. She can make out a bit more than vague outlines, but that's it.
She squints and swims down deeper, letting all the air out of her cheeks, as she doesn't need to breathe. There's a current, but it's not enough to drag an a-hundred-and-twenty pound teenager very far down stream. Hopefully.
There's several moments when she can't find Leo–she can't find anything–and then she spots that ugly sweater made in the most vibrant shades of orange, pink, red, and a touch of blue that Calypso had gotten mad at him for wearing, but now she'll probably be thankfully for it.
She swims her way over to him. He's not moving; just letting the current drag him along for the ride. There's a red sort-of mist floating in the water around him–blood, and a lot of it.
She paddles forward and wraps an arm around his waist, tucking him to her side. She kicks and claws her way back to the hole in the ice, praying to God (Cupid can't be the only one up there, can he?) that Leo might still be alive. She knows it's hopeless, but she refuses to acknowledge it.
Two hands grab her forearm and helps haul them up. She lands sort-of on Jason's lap, since the last tug knocked him over, with Leo's lifeless body beside her. Jason pushes her off and flips Leo over, bending down to give him mouth-to-mouth while Calypso grasps at the Latino's hand, tears streaming down her face and "Please!" escaping her lips like a mantra.
"Annabeth? Annabeth?" Piper's hand is in her hair, brushing the wet golden curls away, and Annabeth remembers to gasp for air as if she hasn't breathed in over a hundred years. (Which she hasn't.) "It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. You got him. You got him. Leo's going to be fi–"
Jason cuts her off, voice solemn and tears pouring out of his eyes. "He's dead."
AN: Add Calypso/Bianca and Lou Ellen/Annabeth to the list of crack ships I have created in this story. This might be getting a little out of hand. Ha ha.
I switched it! Calypso is pansexual, as I thought that may fit her better. Lou Ellen and Bianca were totally gay though.
For those of you who don't know: Ruby Rose is a modern actress/a whole bunch of other professions whom everybody is gay for. (And don't even try to deny it.)
So, I was thinking, that maybe after I finish this main story here (don't worry; there are at least five more chapters, I believe) that maybe I could expand this 'verse with one-shots? Like, Calypso and Bianca's story? Stuff like that? Review if you want to read that kind of stuff.
This was not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. If you see any errors, please inform me so I my fix them.
Constructive criticism welcome, and reviews will possibly stop all the crack ships!