Chapter 25

"and for the first time what's passed is passed"
- begin again, taylor swift

At this point Annabeth is just convinced the universe has something against her.

She's experienced lots of misfortune in the eighteen years that she's been alive. Many of these consist of her almost dying. Another handful involve of her being the reason other people have almost died, and then a smaller portion involving frying pans, but she doesn't think anything has been as badly timed and ridiculous as her ex-boyfriend, the same one that she had shot in the arm and then dragged out of a collapsing building, walking into a coffee shop she also happened to be in a year later.

They don't even live in the same state.

"Oh my God," she whispers in shock.

"At least he hasn't recognised you," Piper tells her comfortingly.

"What's he doing right now?"

"Ordering a drink. Looks like a frappuccino."

Thalia snorts. "How basic."

Annabeth sighs in relief. "Okay. Okay."

"It's takeaway," Piper notes. "He's not staying."

"Good."

"He wouldn't recognise you, anyway," Thalia says nonchalantly. "He's only seen you sans Lois once before. That's not enough to properly remember your face – especially because he knows that you're Lois, which means whenever he thinks of you the only face he'll be able to pull up is hers."

"I think you're forgetting that you guys look virtually the same as you did when you were Georgina and Tess."

"Ah." Piper takes a nervous sip of her coffee. "Right."

"It doesn't matter anymore, anyway," Thalia says. "He's left."

Annabeth practically collapses in her chair, melting against the backrest like a droopy sock puppet. She realises her hands are shaking, she's shaking all over, and to regain some composure she shoves them in between her thighs so they stop. She feels packed in, tight, and she's not sure if she's going to faint or cry.

Knowingly, Piper pushes her plate towards her. It's got an untouched muffin on it, and robotically Annabeth reaches out to break a piece off. The sugar helps her relax, always has, really, but no amount of cake could possibly calm her down now.

"What's he even doing in Oklahoma?" Annabeth asks. "He's meant to be in New York!"

Piper shrugs and tries to subtly sneak a piece of the muffin without Annabeth realizing. "This is a total disaster," Annabeth says. "What if I bump into him again?"

"You won't, trust me," Thalia assured her. "A few years back I lived in Los Angeles for around a year and I didn't see a single celebrity."

"Still!"

"There's around four million people in Oklahoma," Piper says, taking Annabeth's whole plate back. Annabeth is too shaken to really care. "Trust me. The chances of seeing him again would literally be one in a million. Or rather one in four million."

Annabeth frowns as Piper innocently picks at the chocolate pieces in the muffin. She supposes they're right, in the whole grande scheme of things.

She just needs to man up. She won't see Percy again.

And besides, it probably wasn't even him. She needs to get a grip.

"You saw Percy?" Chiron asks, his grey eyes wide over the rims of his glasses.

Annabeth nods erratically. "Yeah," she says. "In a café."

So maybe she didn't exactly end up getting a grip. Whatever.

Ever since the incident, Chiron has been gently encouraging her take therapy sessions. Annabeth has never really been a fan of therapy, despite the fact that the therapists have been sworn to secrecy and all live in the Society, simply because she doesn't really know them, and whenever she tries to recount what happened or how she's feeling her brain just short-circuits and either ends up void of emotion or bawling her eyes out, neither of which she really enjoys. However, even after she had refused, Chiron had given her a knowing look and told her that if she needed to talk he was always here.

And honestly? She had appreciated the offer. Still does. The PTSD was disgusting and sometimes in the night when she couldn't go to sleep because she kept seeing Percy's heartbroken face and the splatter of blood on the back of her eyelids she would patter down the hallway to Chiron's office where he would allow her to curl up on his sofa and nod off there. Chiron never really falls asleep, just kind of stays up all night reading over reports, and Annabeth had never really realised how helpful it was until now.

She still comes to him. It's worn off in the past year, but every now and then she relapses and she needs the reassurance that the only father figure in her life is still there, but she rarely talks. Which isn't wholly unusual, because she's never really been a fan of talking.

But this whole Percy situation has her freaked the hell out.

Chiron falls silent, and laces his fingers. After a short pause, he says, "Why did you come to me?"

And. Well.

It's going fabulously, as you can tell.

Annabeth stares at his desk.

"Annabeth?"

She picks at a hole in her jeans. "I dunno," she says. Her throat constricts, so she clears it uncomfortably. "I dunno, it's– it's hard to explain."

Chiron watches her with knowing eyes. "Take your time, Miss Chase."

Annabeth hears her heartbeat in her ears, feels it hum behind her eyes. It hurts. "I haven't seen him in a year," she says finally. She still doesn't look at him properly. His soft gaze often has a nasty habit of getting her to spill a little too much. "And– I don't know. I thought I was getting better, you know? I thought I ws over him. Which I was, technically. Or I thought I was, anyway. And then– and then I just saw him again, and everything kind of went– bad, I guess." She laughs a little. It's mirthless. "I wasn't really over him," she says quietly. "I thought I was, and then I saw him and I wasn't."

Chiron has a thoughtful look on his face. After a small silence, he asks, "Upon seeing him, has your PTSD become worse?"

She really hasn't the slightest clue what this has to do with anything, but she shakes her head.

"Have you noticed an increase in your nightmares?"

"No."

"Have your anxiety levels spiked?"

"No."

Chiron gives her a warm, fatherly yet mildly exasperated look. "Then what are you so scared of?"

And–

She stops.

What is she so scared of?

She closes her eyes, because she doesn't know.

Chiron notices and his face softens. "Annabeth," he says. "Look at me."

Annabeth opens her eyes but she stares at the table.

"Are you afraid of Percy or your feelings towards him?" he asks.

She doesn't respond.

Chiron sighs a little. "Listen, Miss Chase. In all honesty, I don't know what you're going through."

"That's a lie."

"A little bit. But I'm not going to Study you to better understand it, because you don't need that." He laces his fingers. "Look, Annabeth. You were born into this lifestyle. You've been a spy since you could crawl, and every single day of every year that we have ever pushed you to become better, to become a dignified young woman sure of herself and where she places her heart, you have braved through it all without fail." His voice softens. "You are going to get hurt for the rest of your life. That I won't sugarcoat. And yes, you've experienced pain and death and heartbreak, and that isn't easy for anyone. But I haven't raised you since your mother died to let something as stupid as a boy bring you down."

She manages to crack a smile.

"You are so, so brave, Annabeth Chase. Don't be scared. Fate brought Percy here, and life only does you favours once in a while. Grab hold of it. Grab hold of him. Don't be scared of him. What's the worst that can happen? He rejects you. You split ways forever. You've done it once, and it took a while, but you're still here."

Annabeth presses her mouth together. She had never remembered therapy being this intense.

Then again, maybe it's just Chiron.

"You've made it out alive, Annabeth. You're only scared of Percy because you're scared that you're going to hurt him again, that he's going to hurt you. You are bigger and stronger and better than that, Miss Chase. Face it on head-first. If you don't I can assure you it will be one of your biggest regrets."

Annabeth nods. Once, twice. And then she stands up.

"Thank you," she says.

Chiron bobs his head at her.

She turns around and leaves. It's midday and she's wearing a pair of jeans and her sneakers but she still crawls into her bed and pulls the covers up over her head so no one can see or hear her.

And that's when she allows herself to cry.

Annabeth next sees Percy a month later.

She's at the park by herself. It's not for any reason other than for some calming leaf drawing, because Chiron had suggested she do it and also because calming leaf drawing has always been a nice theraputic way of getting by.

(Thalia dared laugh at her when she told her where she was going but she decides not to dwell on such negativity. It's all good vibes here. Nice chill calming leaf vibes.)

And that's when she spots Percy.

He's walking across the palk holding a wallet, looking rather awkward. He's wearing a pair of jeans and a faded old hoodie – with a pang of nostalgic heartache she recognises it as the same hoodie he had given to her on multiple occasions when she was cold. It was always far too big for her, too big for him, too, but he's grown into it now. He looks the same but he's aged, and she can see it in the lines on his face. His arm is fine, because of course it is, but Annabeth has been experiencing phantom limb pains and she knows he is too. They suck, because they come out of nowhere and hurt like hell, but also because she knows it's always going to be a permanent reminder of what she did and she thinks that might be the worst part.

He's grown up, and so has she, but it's hard looking at him after all this time because she wans't there to see it.

Then suddenly her eyes widen because she realises he's heading towards her.

She knows it's not for her, because she's sitting right in front of the park gates, but her heart still begins to jackrabbit. She isn't wearing a disguise and her jacket doesn't have a hood she can skulk into, and unfortunately her sketch pad is one of those small ones she can slip into her pockets, so she's got nothing to hide behind.

Percy is nearing. Annabeth knows he's caught sight of her, and his eyebrows have furrowed, almost as if he's trying to place where he's seen her before, so she internally swears and shoves her things into her bag, standing up. She hopes that by power walking to the other end of the park he won't follow her.

But he shouldn't. He's too much of a gentleman, always has been. It would be much too creepy.

Well. Or so she thought, anyway.

She hasn't been walking for a minute yet, when she hears crunching grass behind her and in the reflection of her sunglasses she sees that he's anxiously following her like a dog would to its master. She pulls them further up her face and quickens her pace.

Don't call out don't call out don't c–

"Lois?"

Her heart stutters.

"Sorry," she throws over her shoulder, moving even faster. She's almost jogging now. She hopes that's a a subtle hint that he should just back off. "I, uh, think you have the wrong person."

There's a pause. She closes her eyes in relief, hoping that finally he's got the memo and made a sudden U-turn, when there's a hesitant little sigh and he tentatively asks, "...Annabeth?"

She takes a sharp intake of breath, and reluctantly turns around.

For the first time in a year, she's face-to-face with Percy Jackson.

He's different close-up, and yet not. His eyes are still beautiful. His hair is still wild. He's still got lines around his mouth that fold whenever he smiles – but he's worried and tense, and he has creases in his forehead and a scar underneath his lip. Annabeth hopes it's from something stupid like chewing a stapler. She knows that it's probably from where Luke punched him before she arrived.

"Hey, Percy."

Percy looks a little disheveled, like he genuinely wasn't expecting it to be her. She sees how he takes into account her hair, her eyes, her clothes, and swallows when he looks back at her face. She feels scrutinized under his gaze. It makes her feel awkward and closed-in.

"Hey," he breathes. "Um." He lets out a huffy little laugh. "Sorry, I just– this is so weird."

"Yeah. S'pose you can say that."

"I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"Neither was I, I mean– what happened to New York?"

Percy smiles awkwardly. "Um. I applied for a college here."

She stares at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." He laughs, a tad breathlessly. She doesn't mention it. "Um. My mom and I moved."

"What are you studying?"

"Marine biology."

"That's– that's really cool, Perce."

He smiles bashfully. "Thanks."

The conversation grinds to a hault. Percy looks into her eyes imploringly, and in that moment as much as she hates small talk Annabeth would willingly do it until she could escape and run all the way back to the Society because they both know they're skirting around the elephant in the room, avoiding it like the plague.

"So, um." Percy shuffles from foot to foot and Annabeth is kind of grateful to know she isn't the only one who feels awkward. "It– it is Annabeth, right?"

She lets out a small laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"Good, good." He pulls with his fingers. "I wasn't sure if it was, like, Annabelle, or something."

"It's definitely Annabeth."

"Good, okay."

They're both stalling.

Annabeth opens her mouth to say something, and then shuts it again. What does she say? The small talk is excrutiating and she hates it, and the scar on her thigh is telling her that they need to talk, properly talk, but they can't do it in public.

She swallows. "Look," she says, her voice halting and awkward. "Do you want to, um, go to a coffee shop to maybe talk? Catch up a bit?"

There's a message behind her words. Something flickers in Percy's face and Annabeth knows he's understood it.

This is it. They're coming clean.

A year later, with his arm and her leg both healed but their minds still possibly teetering over the edge, and they've finally come back to set fire to the fuse to blow it up one last time.

He nods jerkily. "Um, sure," he says. "There's a, uh, café down the road?"

"Yeah– um, sounds good."

They both walk there side-by-side. It's not like last time. Every time there has been something between them – it used to be love, and then it turned to hate, and now the rope has been twisted and burnt and frozen so many times it's fraying. This could make or break it. Either way, it's going to be calm and collected, settling the skeletons down to rest.

They can finally bury the casket. It's been haunting them for too long.

This is it.

Annabeth blows a silent sigh of relief.

They arrive to the café in good time. It's mostly empty, which is nice, so they get their pick of table. Percy chooses one by the window, with a little blue gingham tablecloth and a flower in the centre. It reminds Annabeth so much of their first date, back at McDonald's, where she was brave enough to hold his hand for the first time.

It's a nice memory. She almost reaches out to hold it again but then she realises she can't.

The waitress asks them for their order. Percy gets an apple juice and Annabeth gets a coffee. She writes it down on her notepad and bobs off, and then it's just them and everything they never said like a loaded gun in the centre of the table.

They're quiet for a bit.

"I read the report," Percy says suddenly.

Annabeth looks up. "The report?"

"The one they wrote about the– the accident," he says. His voice catches and Annabeth wants to curl up in a ball. "I read it. At the hospital. And then I read the newspaper when I got home. Mom didn't want me to but I did."

Annabeth stares intensely at her fingernails. She needs to repaint them.

Percy looks at the tablecloth, his eyes shifting, obviously deciding what to say and how to say it. "You got shot, too," he says.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you knew."

"I knew you were shot. I didn't know you also carried me out on your injured leg."

Annabeth ducks her head.

"You saved me life," he says, softer.

"I had to."

"Why?"

She sighs and squares up her shoulders. "It was the least I owed you," she mumbles self-consciously. "If anyone deserved to make it out alive it was you."

Percy swallows. "What about you?"

Annabeth laughs mirthlessly. "Percy, I had lied to you for about a year. I arrived home as Annabeth and left as Lois. I knew that that was it. You were going to find out one way or another. It was my crappy way of saying sorry, in a way."

Percy doesn't look at her. "I hated you for so long, you know."

Annabeth can't say she's surprised. It still stings.

"After you visited me," he begins, "I hated you. I hated you so much. I think it's because I thought you had screwed up for me, and I couldn't even forget you because I was in physiotherapy for about six months to get my arm working again. I was in proper therapy, too."

"Same," Annabeth says. "Still am, actually. It's why I was in the park today."

He blinks, momentarily taken aback. "But– you were alone?"

"Oh, no, not like that. My therapist said I should do some calming leaf drawing."

"Oh." Percy pauses. "Is it?"

"Is it what?"

"Calming."

"Absolutely. I recommend it."

"Thanks."

Annabeth suddenly realises she's gone very off topic. "Sorry, back to you," she says. "Your story."

"Oh. Well. I hated you."

"Thanks."

"You deserved it."

"Yeah, I know."

There's a quick lull in conversation as the waitress arrives with their drinks. They both thank her and once she walks away Percy laces his fingers around his glass. He looks so young, with his straw and his apple juice and his black hair falling over his forehead, and Annabeth kind of wants to wrap him in a hug.

"You were saying?" she prompts gently.

Percy nods. "Well, I was in proper therapy. It was scary. It like Gabe all over again."

Annabeth flinches. "Oh my God."

"It's okay. Well, it is now, anyway. Back then I was just so scared. I kept having nightmares. I kept waking up because I couldn't stop seeing myself tied to this chair with a gun pointed to my head, and I just kept throwing up and not being able to eat and I couldn't even watch a movie for a couple of months because the flashing lights and loud noises would just– trigger me into a panic attack. It was so scary, and at first when I had thought it was all your fault, I just kept blaming you because it was like all these things were just ways I couldn't forget you.

"It was weird," he went on. "Waking up. Everything hurt. I woke up after you did, because by that time I had police in my room who were asking me about the whereabouts of Lois Watermann. I didn't even know you were meant to be in hospital. But then they said that you had run away. That was what made me angry, I think. Because you always had a nasty habit of just disappearing. And now you just kind of left me, bruised and bloody and with a bullet in my arm, all by myself.

"And then you appear back out of nowhere, but you're just– not you anymore. You're not Lois, because you look like– like that" – he gestures vaguely to her general vicinity – "and then you're telling me that you're not actually Lois but you are at the same time. And it made sense, and it still does, because a lot of things are adding up, but I just couldn't handle it. Because my girlfriend who had just shot me in the arm went missing before I could ask her what the hell had just happened and then reppeared like a ghost looking like a completely different person and told me that Lois was just– just a lie.

"I dunno. It just– hurt. I was hurt. In both senses, too, because my arm wasn't making life any easier either."

Annabeth listens to every word with a sick kind of rapture. She hates herself. She is filled with self-loathing, because she dared to claim to love this boy and yet she does all this to him? She kind of wants to tip her coffee all over herself. Maybe if she's lucky it'll burn her to the ground.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry, Percy."

"It's okay."

It is now. It wasn't back then.

"It could have been worse, I guess," Percy goes on, trying to keep things lighthearted. "You could have actually killed me."

"Yes, that wouldn't have been great."

Percy cracks a little smile at her. She smiles back.

She thinks they're going to be okay.

"So," Percy says, taking a sip of his apple juice. "Have you applied for a college yet?"

Annabeth nods. "Yeah. I'm attending a community college."

"In Oklahoma?"

She nods.

"Cool. What're you studying?"

"Architecture and Mathematics."

The cool thing? She actually is.

She'll never stop being a spy. Even if she officially quits, she'll never really be able to leave, because she still has plenty of people after her who would happily rip out of her vitals and feed them to their dogs, but Chiron helped her finish up her high school studies and even got her a diploma. She's going to a college like a normal human being and she's so thrilled, because when she grows up and graduates she could end up as an architect.

An actual architect.

It's beyond cool.

"That's awesome," Percy says. "You always wanted to be an architect, right?"

"Yeah. It's– pretty cool."

Understatement of the century.

Percy opens his mouth to say something when suddenly Annabeth's phone goes off. She gives him an apologetic look, and fishes it out of her bag, pressing answer without looking at the number and holding it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Where on earth are you?" Thalia screeches.

Annabeth winces. "Okay, too loud."

"I don't care!" She's even louder now. Annabeth holds her phone a few inches away. Percy looks amused. He can probably hear her. "Where are you?"

"I'm at a café."

"You were meant to be home, like. Two hours ago!"

"No I wasn't. My therapist said I could go to the park and do some calming leaf drawing."

Thalia splutters with anger. "Still!"

"You can't argue against that."

"Yes, but I will, because that's utterly absurd."

"It's a method of helping me curb my emotions."

Thalia sighs impatiently. "Be home in twenty minutes," she says.

It's not a question. "Fine."

Thalia ends the phone call with a indignant huff.

Annabeth drops her phone back in her bag and gives Percy an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry," she says. "Duty calls."

"It's okay."

"Should we get the bill?"

He waves her off. "No stress. It's on me."

"You sure?"

"One hundred percent."

She smiles. "Thank you."

"It's cool."

It's for more than the drinks. They both know what she means.

She's just about to turn around and leave, when she pauses. She pulls her sketchbook and her pencil out of her bag and scribbles down her number on a page, ripping out and shoving it at him. "In case you want to keep in touch," she rushes out. "You know."

Percy nods, looking a little startled. "Uh, sure."

"Thank you again."

"It's okay."

They're going to be okay.

Annabeth just knows it.

A/N so

we hit 400 reviews

WHAT

guys you are all absolutely nuts i love you so so so so so much. honestly you guys are the best and i love you to pieces you beautiful beautiful angels (ahahhHhh I LOVE YOUUUU). as per tradition, i would normally do a big shoutout thing to you guys because ily however next chapter is unfortunately our final chapter, and at the end of that i'm doing one big giant shout-out whatsit, so i'll save all my pleased excited happy feelings for then

(however until then i love you all and musicalbookworm those puns were awful and i laughed at them pure classic)

ALSO!

me and my gals Rachel (TheWritingManiac) and Helena (GollyGeeWhiz) (both of which are amazing human beings check out their stories you will not be disappointed) have created Pinterest boards for all our stories which is pretty cool! They're mainly just lots of aesthetic stuff for iSpy, and also there are boards for Helena's story Childhood and Rachel's story As Long As We're Together: The Price Of Freedom. It also actually really helps visualise some stuff so yes do go check it out (i will have a link to my pinterest account in my bio woop woop) and if you want to follow or add anything please feel free!

anywho that's all that i have for today folks i love you allLLL and i shall see you next saturday (also hopefully this wasn't too disappointing woop). Byeee! xxx