Yay! Update time! And guess what? It's time to find out who she is! Okay, just read on, peeps.

I DO NOT OWN. (How old you think I am?)

Fall Into Memories

Again, he fell on May 11, 2004, exactly a year after the last time he fell.

He had returned home, as always, because he could not stay away—that would be cruel to his mother—and was now walking down the sidewalks of his city, money placed carefully in his pocket. He made his way by memory, listening to the voices around him so he wouldn't run into anybody.

Finally, he felt a large crack in the sidewalk and turned right. He couldn't see it, but he knew there was a large outdoor boutique in front of him. He placed his hand on the counter to get the owner's attention. "Mister," he said, stuffing one hand into his pocket for the money. "I have some requests."

The owner, Fleuri, turned to face him. "My boy, here for another blue rose? You know, those stand for unattainable or mysterious."

Percy bit his lower lip and nodded, pushing his sunglasses up higher on his nose. "No," he mumbled. "I'm not here for roses. I have other flowers in mind, thank you very much."

Fleuri—which Percy thought was a fitting name, meaning flower—placed a hand on the counter with a small thud. "Go for it."

"Okay, I want a few daffodils, anemones, statices, and heathers." He pulled out his wad of money, which he might have slipped from a couple peoples' pockets, and tossed it onto the counter. "Fifteen-thirty seven, right?" He dropped some coins onto the counter as well.

"Exactly," he heard the owner mutter, using his arm to slide the money to him. Fleuri cleared his throat. "Do you know what these flowers stand for?"

Of course, Percy thought. Why would I ask for them otherwise? "Several daffodils stand for rebirth, anemone stands for fading hope and anticipation, statice stand for remembrance, and heather symbolizes that wishes will come true."

"Yes, correct. Again." Flueri placed a bunch of flowers in his hands. "Thank you for your services."

Percy nodded and walked off at a brisk pace, dodging passerby and holding the bundle of flowers close to him for protection.

He ended up at a graveyard.

Stepping in carefully, he navigated his way through and around the gravestones, touching each one so he could find a specific person's, a specific girl's…

Here. His fingertips dance along the engraved letters and numbers along a stone. He plopped down on the ground before it, blind eyes staring at it. A sharp pain shot through his eyes. It had been three years since he had last seen her; he didn't even go to her funeral—not that she was dead. She wasn't.

Percy began to cry, tears slowly dripping down his cheeks.

He sat there, crying, sobbing, completely losing it, for hours.

No one bothered him. That is, until a little girl, his age, came beside him. Too bad it wasn't her.

"Hey, Perce," she whispered. "What's up?"

"The sky," he replied bitterly. "Go away, Katie. I don't need your taunting right now for seeing me cry."

She gulped. "I'm not going to do that, Percy. I just want to know why you are here, instead of over there."

There was home, but home was where the heart lies; his heart was missing.

"Fate is cruel. The best people have the rottenest luck. She is the best person ever." No, no, no, no, no! He could feel himself slipping away, losing grip on reality.

'Madness,' they would say.

Maybe he was mad, insane.

"Yeah." Katie rubbed his back in soothing circles, but he kept flinching away.

Percy kept on flinching and wincing, rubbing his blood-shot eyes and shaking angry fists at the sky. He began blubbering about the lady who lived across from him—about how she advised his mother to send him away to an asylum, about how she loved tulips, about how he would give her tulips in a week's time.

Because, yeah, she only had a week left to live. He knew; he always knew.

Then he switched back to her. "She isn't dead," he ranted. "I know. They don't. She is alive. How much do ya wanna bet? She is alive. Она жива. Sie ist lebendig. Hon är vid liv..."

Katie said not a word for the longest of times as he screamed incoherent words in a flurry of languages. Then, after Percy had calmed down enough to understand, and he was slowly making his trek back to the real world, she said something to him: "Do you know what acorns stand for?"

He hesitated. Images he would never see with his own eyes were flashing through in mind. He shook his head and pushed past those pictures. "Immortality. Acorns, they stand for immortality." He felt as if he were on a wave that was rising, rising higher and higher to the sky. As long as the wave kept on growing, he could maybe actually reach past the clouds and pull himself back to the world of the sane. If the wave crashed back down though, he would be drowned in his own insanity.

He was sick of not living in the present, only the past and future.

"Right," Katie whispered; she did not want him to have a, uh, moment again.

"Why—why are you asking?" He scrunched up his eyebrows. Where was she? She should be here. Weren't they just at Mom's work? Snap out of it, he ordered himself. She isn't here—yet.

"You're right. You're always right."

"What does… that have to do with… acorns?" Percy mentally slapped himself. His words were abrupt and he could hear the hint of an accent. English. Use English, Alaster. Another pang of pain soared through him. She called him Alaster.

He felt her shrug. "I guess it's a sign." She opened his hand and placed something in it.

It was an acorn.

Which stood for immortality.

That had to be some sort of sign.

"Bye, Percy. I'll see you later." She gave his back a pat and stood up. "Stay away from the past and the future now. Those memories are a pain." He could feel her smirk; she could tell he was fighting to win over madness.

Percy was alone again, clutching at the acorn like it was a life-saving drug.

He counted his apples, and sure enough, he had one that morning for breakfast.

Apples were lucky—his preference. Now he had another person on his side, another person who believed that she was alive.

He stood up, sore from all the sitting, and grazed his fingers over the gravestone.

Panthea Madison Jackson

1994-2001

We will remember our little fighter forever.

She never did get her seventh birthday; she was only six when she disappeared. Now they were both nine.

He walked off, heading for his almost home.

"Memories are a pain," Katie had said. But she sort of saved him from them, along with her—always her. Memories could attack him another day.

Today he was saved him from his fall into memories.

Yay! Done! So yeah, I'm a sucker for those 'Percy has a twin' stories. I actually made up Panthea before I even heard of FanFiction though. If you don't like, don't read.

Happier ending, is it not?

Can any of you guess what Percy's ability is? I mentioned it in Unknown Friendship, too.

Peace and all that other stuff.

~XxxXGreek GeekXxxX