Noah,
Charlie had not eaten in two days.
Against her will, she had drifted off to sleep last night but not for long.
Until right now, I had not gotten her out of the room.
I looked across at her, the beach breeze running through her blonde hair. She had washed out the blood and the sweat. Her blonde curls were bouncy and soft. She smelled like the ocean breeze body wash that was sitting in the bathroom, and she had switched out her blood stained pajamas for a pair of worn, soft sweatpants and an old tee shirt.
If I really thought about it, I could pretend that we were back at the house. I would be spending the day at home on a Saturday. Annabeth would be ordering pizza for lunch, and Charlie would be walking into the living room, turning on cartoons as she gave me a silent warning not to treat her like a kid for it.
But the vision couldn't be completed. She wasn't a little girl anymore.
"You look good, Charlie," Kate's voice was soft as she looked at her across the table. On top of everything, Charlie hadn't really spoken to anyone in three days either. She wasn't in a good state of mind, and we all knew why.
It all revolved around the boy lying in the bedroom of the beach house, his body breathing but his eyes remaining closed. He hadn't woken up since the caves, and it was driving us all mad, especially Charlie and Swift. Together, they had made sure that he was never alone. They were convinced that maybe just their presence could wake him up.
Charlie picked at her French toast, not speaking. I hadn't heard her voice in so long that I was worried I may never hear it again. She looked back to normal. The cuts had healed. The scars were hidden. But she wasn't okay because he wasn't.
"Eat, Charlotte," Annabeth looked at Charlie, her eyes pleading. When we got back to New York, we needed air and peace. So, we went to this beach that my dad used to go to when he was a child. Annabeth and Percy got married here when I was four years old, and it had always been a place we could go together as a family.
I could remember winter breaks, the snow blanketing the sand as my mom showed Charlie the wedding pictures and my dad helped me make a fire to keep us all warm outside. One time, when I was sixteen, Kate and I skipped school and drove up here to get her mind off of her latest break-up. It had been all I could do not to kill that guy as she got ice cream and told me all about it.
"I'm not hungry," Charlie shrugged, and Annabeth just looked at her, the fracture in her heart apparent in her grey eyes.
Her eyes flew to my father, standing in the kitchen as he drowned a plate of French toast in syrup.
My father was strong. He had defeated monster after monster. Gone through prophecy after prophecy. Survived things that nobody ever dreamed he would. He even managed to soothe Annabeth's hurt heart after their break-up and marry her. He even handled my teen years.
But I had never seen him so downtrodden, so heartbroken, as he looked at Charlie.
His baby girl had survived, but she wasn't the same. She was broken, and there was a possibility she could be healed. But only the survival of the boy that had been willing to die for her and might just do it could be that saving grace.
My father shook his black hair out of his eyes, and I caught a glimpse at the pain in those sea green eyes that matched those of Charlie. He came over and put a hand on Annabeth's shoulder, squeezing.
"You haven't eaten in two days, Charlie," Annabeth tried, her voice rising on desperation.
"Not eating won't bring him back," my father's voice was soft and calm, like the gentle waters of the lake at Camp Half-Blood. They were meant to soothe.
But they stung with every syllable. They hung in the air like the remnants of a party long over with the consequences kicking in. It burned like a sunburn from what had thought to be a refreshing change and fresh air.
Charlie's eyes looked up to him, and I almost cried on the spot. Kate's hand drifted over to mine, squeezing like it was the only thing keeping us both held together.
Charlie looked so broken. So hurt. So mortified. And so full of regret.
We all knew why he was lying there now. We all knew the choice he had made. We all knew how he had gotten that stab wound. We all knew what had rationed out in his brain as worth death.
Her.
Above all, Charlie knew it. She held his blood on her hands, and the dam holding back the guilt was slowly breaking.
As a stray tear slid down her cheek, she picked up a fork and took a small bite of the French Toast, forcing what she usually adored down her throat like the broccoli our grandmother used to make us eat every time we spent the night.
"Thank you, Baby," Annabeth cried, pressing her lips against my sister's temple, and my father ran his fingers through her hair as he tried not to cry.
"I'm going to go get a shower," Kate smiled softly, squeezing my hand, and she stood, kissing the side of my head before walking towards the bathroom. Annabeth, pulling away from Charlie and sitting back down, looked at me with a soft smile.
She stood, kissing my father's cheek, and she motioned for me to follow. And I did.
Annabeth never really had to ask me things twice. I just did it. If my father had told me to take a bath as a little kid, it would start with half an hour of running around the house before he could get me in the tub and a complete war to get me to wash my hair. With Annabeth, I grumbled and pouted, but I was in the bathtub before long.
Annabeth took a step out on the deck, the breeze running through her golden curls. She was wearing an old Camp Half-Blood tee shirt that she had been wearing since she was sixteen years old, and it felt nice not to see her in a business suit.
It had been fourteen years since that night that Annabeth was babysitting me, and, during a storm, I came crying to her room and slept in the same bed with her. I told her about my mother never really caring about me, and I began to really care about Annabeth. Looking up at her, I asked her if she could be my new mom.
Maybe about six months later, I got just that, and none of us had ever looked back.
"We haven't been able to talk," Annabeth sat down on a patio chair, motioning for me to sit in the chair beside her. Her eyes were still sad and still worried, but she wanted to talk to me. I could see it.
I sat beside her, smiling softly.
"So, you and Kate, eh?" she smiled, pushing her hair behind her ear, "I remember when you two were just little kids. You were taught her how to play soccer. She was your little cheerleader."
She laughed the kind of laugh that only adults could give you. It was the laugh that moms would give when they talked about how they had always been right when they said a couple should get together. It was the same laugh my grandmother gave when she said she always knew that my dad loved Annabeth.
I smiled sheepishly, thinking of how many times I had told Annabeth that I would never, ever date Kate. I would tell everyone she was like a sister. I loved her too much to ever think of dating her. We knew each other too well.
And now hear I was. In love with Kate. I couldn't imagine spending another day without her. I couldn't live without her. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I wanted to marry her, to have children with her, to have grandchildren with her.
"I love her so much, Annabeth. I just… I can't be without her."
"I'm so happy for you," Annabeth smiled softly, reaching out her arms, and she hugged me tight, "I love you…"
She stroked my hair, sucking in the smell of my shampoo, and I hugged her back tight.
"You're my child, too. I was so worried for you, too. Not just Charlie. I worry you don't know that," she whispered in my ear, and I felt like I should have been four years old after Annabeth told me she was pregnant and worried I would be so jealous of the baby that I wouldn't feel loved because I wasn't her biological son.
But I wasn't four anymore. I was nineteen. I was taller than her now. I was stronger than her.
Yet I felt just like her little baby boy.
"I know, I know. I love you like my mom. You are my mom," I hugged her tighter.
"I love you, Kiddo," she smiled, almost crying, and she kissed her cheek.
"I love you, too, Mom."
Annabeth smiled hearing those words, and it was heartwarming to feel her smile. The heartbreak of seeing Charlie so hurt was starting to heal up.
"So, while we are out here," she pulled away, smoothing my hair, "you're sleeping in the same room as Kate… I am not nearly the naive mom I wish I could be."
I blushed a bit, looking away.
"We haven't… well…"
Annabeth raised her eyebrows.
"You really don't have to do this. I know you have."
"No, we actually haven't," I blushed deeper, looking up.
"Why not?" Annabeth laughed, and I suddenly felt like I was a fourteen year old again, being mortified by being forced to have 'The Talk' with my parents.
"She's injured," I tried, and Annabeth just kept on laughing.
"You know your father and I-" she had a triumphant and teasing grin on her face, and I quickly put up my hand.
"No, no, Hades no."
Annabeth laughed even harder, and she hugged me, squeezing me tight as she stood up.
"Well, whenever you do, remember to use protection."
"Mom!" I blushed even deeper, making me the shade of a tomato, and Annabeth took her victory with her as she went back into the house to check on Charlie.
Charlie,
As the clock on the wall hit midnight, Swift had already succumbed into sleep.
About four hours ago, she had looked me dead in the face and made me promise not to let her. She told me that it was my job to wake her up, no matter how I did it. She didn't want to sleep. Every moment asleep could mean possibly missing the moment that we had been waiting the last three days for, Aiden to wake up.
But, at eleven thirty, she leaned her head back a bit on the loveseat by the bed, and her eyes slowly fluttered closed before I could finally tell that she was asleep fifteen minutes later. I didn't try to wake her because I knew that she needed sleep just as much as I did. Actually, I didn't do anything at all.
At twelve, Sam came in to check on Swift, and he found her passed out on the bed. He picked her up bride style, carefully carrying her back to their room, and they both left me alone.
If this had been in any other situation, I probably would have liked this room. The walls were a neutral blue, so pale that it almost looked grey. The wood was a vague light shade that no one really liked or disliked. It wasn't too overly retro, having been redesigned sometime in the 2000's in hopes of getting more money from renters who wanted a more modern home. You could hear the waves beat on the shore distantly, and the wind whistled by the windows.
The room had nothing special about it. It was a one-size fits all room made to appeal to the mass public wanting to rent a beach house. It didn't hold onto things.
Soon, the memory of us would be scrubbed away by a cleaning service preparing for the next batch of vacationers, and it would go on to serve the home of more secrets, never remembering them. Never keeping a piece of the past.
It didn't feel like a fitting place to try to get Aiden to hold on. I needed him to stay, to try to hold onto us, to me. But we were in a room that where the tears in his name would be washed away and the horror forgotten.
My fingers began to stroke his face, the memory of my dream haunting me. I longed to be able to see his face that way one way, older and wiser and so much happier and relaxed. I wanted to feel that cool metal of matching wedding rings. I wanted to have that home in the safety of New Rome with two little kids turning on Johnny Test. I just wanted to see him wake up.
I couldn't be the reason he died. I should have died in there, not him. He shouldn't have to die because I couldn't do it on my own, because I was so weak.
Tears were sliding down my cheek, falling onto his face, and I was silently praying that it would wake him up. That he would get mad at me. That he would yell at me. That he would hate me forever.
As long as he was alive.
I began to play over his voice in my head, trying to remember it.
"Mmm."
There it was…
Wait.
Was that real?
My eyes flew open, desperation filling me as a small flicker of hope was lit. It burned through me, suddenly consuming me as I felt like he might just wake up. He might just survive. I might just have my Aiden back.
Aiden began to squirm, and I stared, waiting as my heart pounded.
Let his eyes open. Let his eyes open. Let his eyes open.
Never before and never again would I ever be so thankful to see those perfect, ocean blue eyes. Never again would I ever love a color as much as I loved the shade of his blue eyes in the dark light with the moon leaving a little white circle at the top of his eyes. Never again would I ever love a tired groan so much.
"Charlie?" his voice was full of confusion, his body trying to sit up but stopping when he let out a hiss of sudden pain.
I had never heard anything so beautiful.
I laughed out of relief, a laugh that would have probably earned me a ticket to the mental hospital if someone else had heard me. Tears streaming down my cheeks, I hugged him as tight as I possibly could, trying to prove to myself that this was real.
That he was real. That he was alive.
"C-Charlie, too tight," he managed out softly, and I blushed, pulling away.
My eyes ran over him as if it was the first and only time I would ever see him and I was trying to memorize everything about him.
Aiden didn't look perfect like he usually did. His blonde hair was messed up and stuck to his face from sweat. His eyes were tired and bloodshot. His voice was groggy and exhausted. He was broken and trying to heal. He wasn't the perfect strong figure he showed off.
Neither of us were like we had thought we were. I wasn't as strong as I had always assumed, I still had human blood in me. He wasn't as invincible as he had always lived to be. He still had human blood in him.
"I'm sorry," I said softly, my hands still running over his skin. I couldn't believe he was really alive. Looking at him didn't cut it. I had to feel his skin. Feel the pitter patter of his heartbeat. Hear his voice, "I can't believe you woke up… I-I was so worried you wouldn't."
I realized I still crying when Aiden lifted up his arm, his fingers shaking as he wiped away my tears. It looked like it was costing him almost all of his energy, and that broke my heart. But the tears were slowly stopping, drying and staining my cheeks.
"I am so sorry," I whispered, "For Chester. For not listening to you. For you getting hurt. For everything."
"Stop. Don't apologize. I would do it again and again if I could," his hand fell back to the bed, finding mine and squeezing it as hard as his weak state would allow him to.
"Why-Why were you comforting me? You were dying. I-I should have been helping you," I choked back a sob.
"Charlotte, I promised you everything would be alright. And it will be. It is. I am alive. You're alive. That is all that matters," he squeezed my hand twice, "What does matter is you look exhausted."
"You're worried about me? You just almost died. You've been in a coma for three days!"
That was Aiden Cinna.
He had almost died for me. He had just woken up from a coma, and he cared about the fact that I looked tired.
I almost couldn't believe it, but I reminded myself that it was Aiden after all. He was crazy and sometimes annoying. But I loved him.
I absolutely loved him. Everything thing about him.
I had heard girls my age say it before all over school. They giggled happily in the locker room or at the lunch table as they bragged about their boyfriend and how much they loved him. They considered their crushes with one another, saying that they absolutely loved them, celebrity or cute boy in homeroom.
I was guilty of it myself. I knew that, at some time another, I had looked at a poster hanging up on my wall of the latest hot celebrity ii liked at the time and said that I loved him.
It was always a sort of joke to me. Those girls saying they were in love. I knew they couldn't be. We were far too young, and we were just hormonal. They weren't truly in love.
But I was. There was no questioning it. I couldn't just tell myself I was a hormonal girl. I really did love him Aiden.
"I'm awake. And tired. And so are you," he smiled softly, "You can stay in here. Unless you're afraid of Noah killing you."
"More of Noah killing you," I laughed softly, sliding into the bed. I curled up against him, forgetting how I should be blushing or be as far away from him as I could be in the bed right now. I would remember my embarrassment soon, and I would be doing that one day.
I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, how thankful I was that I had met him. But it really just wasn't time yet.
It would be someday…
"Thank you for being here when I woke up," Aiden whispered, his breath hot on my ear, and I wrapped my arm around his chest lightly, trying not to hurt him.
"Thank you for waking up…" I closed my eyes.
Kate,
My legs stretched out, the sea breeze running over me as I reclined on the patio furniture of the deck. My feet still had sand on them from the beach, and my hair was still spilling salt water everywhere. I had a grin plastered on my face as I adjusted my sunglasses where I was able to look up at the sky. The sun was drying my black bathing suit, and I took the comfortable warmth as a congratulations from Apollo.
"Want me to dry you off?" Noah smiled, a pair of ray bands resting on his nose as he looked down at me and put away his book. My lead was lying on his lap, smiling up at me as if he was the most perfect thing I had ever seen. He was. Every day he was mine, he seemed to get better. Better looking. Sweeter. Funnier. Smarter. Even more and more perfect. And he seemed to love me even more, too. Every memory I was making with him was locking away in my brain, ready to be called on whenever I needed to smile.
Noah's black curly hair was all dry, and his skin was as if he hadn't been frolicking around in the water with me just a few minutes ago. His grin was wide, one hand running through my hair as he played with it. The other was running up and down my side.
"Nope," I laughed, pulling him down to kiss me, and he grinned at me as he pulled away and sat up.
"How are you so absolutely beautiful?" he asked, the hand that had been playing with my hair stroking my cheek.
"Just how you are so absolutely handsome," I ran my fingers through his black hair.
"Aren't we just adorable?" Noah teased, poking my stomach playfully.
The scar was long gone, so was the pain. I didn't think about the attack very much anymore. It had only been a week, but it was more like a lifetime. The last seven days that we had been at the beach felt more like seven months.
Charlie's scars had disappeared thanks to covering them in ambrosia as soon as they had been created. Her skin had healed. The blood was washed away. And the soreness was fading.
But it wasn't just her physical scars. Her emotional scars were fading as well.
Her laugh was back. Her smiles were greater. Her happiness was there once more.
She ate. She talked. She laughed. She joked.
She was back. I knew she would never trust as easily. She would hold this with her for the rest of her life, but she was happy right now. She was happy with us, with her family, with Aiden.
She was so happy with Aiden, and he was so happy with her.
They were utterly adorable, the kind of relationship I had wanted Charlie to have. I knew that I should have wished that they were older when this happened. But she needed this. She needed him, and he needed her. He was about to become Praetor, and she had just survived a terrifying prophecy with her friend trying to kill her.
Charlie wouldn't be alright without him now, and I thanked him for that.
"And they're pretty adorable, too. Look," I pointed towards Aiden and Charlie walking on the sand.
It was the first time that Aiden was really going outside. At first, Swift proclaimed that he was not allowed out of bed for a week, but Charlie allowed him, too. And I think that Aiden cared more of if it would make Charlie upset than Swift. Swift would just get mad at him and go for a walk with Sam, but it really hurt Aiden to see Charlie upset.
Aiden's arm was locked onto Charlie's, and I wasn't sure who was supporting who as they walked. You could see the scar on his torso, raised slightly on his golden abs. It showed the pain that had created it, and it almost sent chills down your spine.
"She's my baby sister."
"She isn't a baby though, Noah," I smiled softly, "I know you don't like it. But part of you can be thankful, you know."
"Thankful?" he laughed, shaking his head, "Why should I be thankful?"
I took one of his hands, playing with his fingers.
"She loves him…. He loves her. You don't have to worry about her dating a bunch of jerks, trying to find the right guy. You don't really have to worry about him hurting her because he never would. Not on purpose anyway… And they're happy. Your sister is happy," I squeezed his hand.
Noah considered it, staring at the scene of everyone around us.
His parents were sitting together by the sand. Annabeth was stretched out on a towel, reading a book, and Percy was playing with her hair.
Sam and Swift were playing in the water with Swift glaring every time he splashed her, making him laugh harder.
Aiden and Charlie were walking on the beach.
And we were sitting on the porch, sprawled out and enjoying the summer sun.
As I looked to the eight of us, I realized we had all earned this in our own way. After all the gods had put each of us through, we deserved how happy we were.
"Thankful," Noah said the word carefully, as if letting the taste run over his mouth, "I am thankful. For you. For all of us."
I smiled softly, reaching up and kissing his lips lightly as I moved to where I was tucked under his arm.
"How long do we have until we go back until Camp Half-Blood?" I asked after a long time of just watching everyone else.
"One more week. Then we have to go back to the rest of the world. All of us," he rested his chin on the top of my head, "Except…"
"Except what?"
"What if he has to go back to New Rome?" Noah pointed to Aiden out by the water, glimmering like the golden sun that was his father.
"I don't think he will. Not yet at least," I shrugged softly.
