Annabeth and Percy sat in stunned silence, gazing at the teacher. She would have said it was impossible, but now, looking at the woman with fresh eyes, she begun to see a family resemblance. Eyes like the swirling depths of a storm. Her hair, though dark, held much of the same shape and texture as the locks that flowed from Annabeth's own scalp. The expression she wore had an uncanny resemblance to one that Athena had worn once, when she had stood before her mother and been crowned Architect of Olympus. It was analytical, harsh, but also, oddly, soft and proud.
Looking between them, the teacher loosed a small, breathy laugh, and her lips twitched into a sad smile. "Yes, my dears," She said. "Some half-bloods do live longer than expected." She sighed and placed a hand on Annabeth's arm, and another on Percy's shoulder. "I know who you are," She murmured, almost to herself. "I know what you've done, and I know what it's done to you. To all the Seven, but especially to you two" She glanced up, and her eyes were filled with tears. "How can the world be such a cruel place?"
Deciding it would be better not to get into the conversation on how the Fates could have been so pathetically sadistic regarding Percy and Annabeth, she stayed silent. Not a good day to start bad-mouthing the creatures that controlled all of destiny- there was no need to encourage them. Instead, she took a deep breath, and started to talk about the dream. Not all the details, obviously; just enough to keep her interested. It also felt good to vent about these dreams to someone else, someone who would understand. Of course, it wasn't like she hadn't tried to talk about them before. Her father had tried to help, asking if she wanted professional help, if she wanted to talk to Chiron, all that crap. Naturally, it had all been in his best intentions, but he just didn't get that he couldn't help. This child of Athena, though, she got that. She didn't suggest solutions, didn't try to help, simply because she knew that there was nothing to do. And Annabeth respected her for that .
As she talked, Annabeth glanced at Percy. His face had paled somewhat, and he was shivering. She took his hand under the table, letting him know that she was here, she would always be here. Of course, this chat, the dream, they weren't affecting just her. Percy had been through everything with her, and she knew that everything that hurt her from last summer plagued Percy as much as it did her.
Percy glanced at her gratefully, and everything in his expression, in his eyes, his smile, the way his brow came together, suggested the same thing. I love you, it all said. And Annabeth loved him too. The way she loved, how fiercely, how passionately, it was a miracle that her heart didn't catch fire and burn.
Now that she was going, it was impossible to stop. Everything came spilling out. The reality of hell, and the dreams she had had since that fateful fall to Tartarus. Everything came out. It might have been hard, she might have broken down, had she not had Percy with her. It was clear that he felt the same way. The colour had returned to his complexion, and he even chipped in a few times, supplying her with details that she had missed, or dreams of his own. When they were done, and the incessant stream of words had stopped, it felt as if the weight of the sky had been lifted from her shoulders.
Glancing up, her sibling surveyed them with a sorrowful expression. There was so much pain in those eyes that Annabeth wondered if she had told her story that vividly, or if her form teacher were recalling a memory of her own. For the latter, in the case of a demigod, it would be extremely plausible. The woman's knuckles were white as she clasped her hands together, too them apart, and placed them together again. Once again, her steel get eyes were brimming with tears, giving the illusion of a rainstorm. They waited for a response, but there was nothing to be said. What does one say to the pair who went into the fiery abyss and back out the other end?
"Well," The silence was shattered, just like that. Annabeth scared her chair back and stood, abruptly. Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she shuffled around the desk, Percy at her heels. "Thank you, Miss. Thank you very much."
As she was reaching the door handle, a hand grabbed her elbow. She glanced down, to see wide eyes staring, at her, imploring. "Go home, Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson. You need the rest" Annabeth smiled, and nodded. She then pulled open the door, and stepped through, raising a hand in farewell.
"Goodbye." The last she saw when she looked through the glass was a desperate face staring with unseeing eyes at the desk, hands clasped in a prayer.
They hailed a taxi half way down the road and slipped in. "Where to?" The driver asked as he revved the engine. Annabeth looked at Percy for a moment. The driver twisted in his seat to look at them. "Well kids?" he arched his eyebrows. Annabeth looked at Percy and a kind of silent agreement passed between them. Percy leaned forwards and gave the address to his mum's place. Annabeth smiled and squeezed Percy's hand. She liked Sally Jackson. Sally was the kind of person who could improve anyone's mood with a warm smile and a batch of sky-blue cookies. And Annabeth was definitely in the mood for that today.
As the taxi drove on, Percy and Annabeth exchanged snippets of conversation, holding hands across an empty seat and gazing out at a dreary, pouring New York skyline. Annabeth wound down her window and stretched her free hand just out of the window. She rejoiced in the ice-cold drip of rain as it lashed down onto her fingertips and slipped down, each drop sending a shock up from her hand. There was a certain beauty in the fury of a storm. The unrelenting, merciless drum of thunder, the startling white flash of thunder lighting up the scene. The swirling mass of clouds gathering over the horizon.
As they neared Sally Jackson's apartment, the feeling of déjà vu began to settle over Annabeth. She had walked these streets so many times during those insufferable, interminable months when Percy had been missing. She remembered the feeling of despair, the weight of her leaden heart that had haunted her and Sally equally for half year. Seeing these views again would have saddened her immensely, if not for the warm solidity of the hand that clasped hers.
The driver parked halfway down the block. The incessant hum of the engine, the flashing of lights, the clanging of the wipers, all drew to a stop as he pulled back the glass screen and held his hand out for payment. This, they gave over, and together clambered out of the car onto the sodden streets as the heavens poured down above them. It was bucketing, but, unfortunately, it was only affecting Annabeth. Percy stood beside, smirking as she popped open an umbrella. With a resigned sigh and a smile, she grabbed his arm and pulled him besides her. Arms around each other, they walked, up to the building where Percy lived, into the elevator, until they reached Percy's door.