•Epilogue•
Hi guys!
LAST CHAPTER GUYS AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Sorry it took so long. I realized, that in order to this to work, I had to update the Prologue. So yeah, I updated that exactly a week after Chapter Seventeen. You don't have to read the newer version (there's not much changed) but I would recommend it :)
Happy reading!
There is a lot of catching up on that Percy and Annabeth have to do, not just with each other, but with life. After being in a coma for almost seven months, her limbs need to regain their strength.
He stays by her side through every milestone she goes through again: sitting up, standing up, and walking. It's a long and hard process, but Percy is proud of her. He brings her her favourite food or drinks every single time, because he knows she loves them. (And they also offer pretty good encouragement: "After this session, you get a bar of white chocolate! Hurry up, or else I'm going to eat them!" "Shut up Percy!")
For Percy, he doesn't admit it, but it takes some time getting used to having Annabeth counter everything he says. After months of having one-sided conversations with her, it's strange to hear a voice—her voice—respond. But he eventually falls into the pattern he had, because it's Annabeth, and Annabeth loves to tease Percy about everything.
And when the day comes that Annabeth can finally leave the hospital for good, she lets out a loud whoop and sprints to the car, yelling "Good riddance!" to the white hospital behind her, because she's never liked them. Percy yells at her, telling her to be nice "and add a thank-you to them," but it's evident that he's as glad as she is.
"I have something important I need to tell you."
"Yeah?" he asked as he opened a bag of Doritos. "What is it?"
"Percy." She took a step towards him, her tone gentle. "I'm going to apply to the US Army."
His eyes flew to her face, the grip on his bag tightening, crumbling the chips inside. "What? You're—you're kidding, right?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "You heard me correctly."
"But, Annabeth—," he started. Changing his mind, he asked a single simple question: "Why?"
"I want to protect people. There's a war brewing overseas, and I don't want to just sit here and wring my hands and be helpless. I want to help them. Perce, I've seen the footage on TV, and it breaks my heart every time. Those children, those families … they don't deserve to be caught in this war, but they are." She shook her head, her eyes filled with anger. "I may not be able to save them all, nor will I be able to stop this war, but I want to do what I am able to."
Her face softened as she took in the frozen look of terror on her fiancée's face. She sighed. "Oh, Percy." She gently took his face in her hands. "Don't you worry about me. I'll be fine."
"I don't want to lose you," he whispered.
"I know you don't. And you won't. Trust me."
Seeing as he still didn't look convinced, she gave him a suggestion. "If it's going to make you feel better, how about you come with me?"
She could see him considering that option.
"We could protect the innocent, together."
"I—I don't—" He hesitated. "I'm not the type to go fight," he finally said.
A pair of warm hands grabbed his. "I know, Percy," Annabeth answered earnestly. "But you like to help people, don't you?"
Percy remembers everything. How he went along overseas with Annabeth. How he was so terrified at first, because no preparation and training could prepare for the horrors of reality. And that was the reality that the local people lived with, day and after day.
He remembers how his nightmares tormented him, night after night, when he was overseas, his mind running through the horrors that happened that day. Even when he came back to the United States, they were still there. He wished, so hard, over and over again, for him to finally have one night of peace, one night of a happy dream.
And one day, he did. And it was like a breath of fresh air, a light in an eternal time of darkness. It was so blinding, but so, so beautiful. He held on to that dream, the one happy one in his sea of horror, and believed, believed, that one day, it'll get better.
The nightmares depicting every horror he had seen overseas are becoming less and less frequent now.
"So, what do you want to do when you're older?" Annabeth asked Percy, her eyes boring through the screen. It was a rainy, gross day in Manhattan, and he was locked up inside. He was so, so bored. He hated the rain. Hated how gross it was. Hated how it got him all wet. That was the reason why he hated swimming, he supposed. It was gross and wet and wet t-shirts were uncomfortable. They stuck to his skin like glue.
The rain drummed on the windows rhythmically, creating some sort of bass line for a electro-pop song—not that he was a fan of pop. Or electric music. He preferred The Jackson Five and the oldies—especially when they came from his dad's record player. The Jackson Five were really cool—and not just because they shared the same last name as him.
"I don't know," the green-eyed boy answered honestly. "You?"
The answer was immediate and clear. "An architect."
She holds the envelope in her hand now, weighing it on her palm. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she stands still for a moment, before bursting out with, "I don't know if I can open it. I'm … Percy, what if I don't make it?"
He kisses her forehead, saying, "I'm sure you did. Open it, Annabeth."
Taking another deep breath, she slides her finger under the flap of the envelope and pulls out the folded sheet of paper.
The blonde-haired girl sits at the front of the lecture hall, right in front of the professor's lectern. Her steely grey eyes observe the classroom, and guesses what type of teacher this is. He—or she?—has a few corny jokes about architecture on the walls, a picture of the tallest skyscraper in the world on another, and some other deep quotes.
A woman with purple-tipped hair in her mid-thirties walks in. "Good morning, class. I'm Professor Dodds." She strides over to the whiteboard situated at the front of the hall and writers, in big letters, PROFFESSOR DODDS. The misspelling of "Professor" is a joke from How I Met Your Mother, and Annabeth can tell that it was meant to be one—the second "f" was written slightly bigger than the others. Her smile is caught by Professor Dodds, and she winks a mischievous wink at her student.
Annabeth decides she likes her immediately.
They sit in a coffee shop, talking, because they're that couple that always goes and talks in coffee shops. This is the "new best coffee shop in New York City," according to Percy. Annabeth has to admit that although she hasn't tried her drink yet, the place is very warm and aesthetic.
"Annabeth? I need to tell you something."
"Yeah?" she asks, taking a sip out of her white hot chocolate. "With extra whipped creamed and chocolate sprinkles," she had specified when she was ordering. She loves whipped cream, and Percy has never understood why. It tastes weird and it's pretty artificial. But she loves it, so whenever he orders a hot drink, he requests whipped cream so he can add his scoop of whipped cream onto hers.
He takes a deep breath now. "Remember how you've always said that you don't think you'll be a great mother?"
She nods, her gaze resting intently on he fiancé. "What about it?"
"I haven't been the best with children …" he starts. "You know that. I'm always awkward around them, or I say the wrong thing, or I accidentally curse in front of them"—Annabeth immediately breaks into laughter at that. Percy can almost bet that she's thinking of the time he accidentally stepped on a Lego block on his toe and dropped the f-bomb in front of his neighbour's three-year-old niece—"and—stop laughing, Annabeth—I-I'm just not good with them."
"Okay …" Annabeth responds, unsure of where he is going with this, her laughter finally subdued.
"But you taught me how to interact with them. You taught me to be less awkward around them. I'm not as good of a natural as you are, of course, but you taught me a lot, Annabeth. You really did.
"When I was waiting for your dad to pick me up from the airport, I met a little girl named Julia. She thought I was her cousin Triton and ran up to hug me." He paused. "Okay, here's a question: What do you think I did?"
She thinks about it, chin resting on her head. "Well …" she starts slowly, "I think you'd be all awkward and like, 'Uh-why-are-you-hugging-me-get-off-oh-my-gawds' or something?" She laughs. "Just kidding. Maybe. Um, I think you told her she had the wrong person?"
"Sort of, but not really." He recounts the story of what he did, down to the very last detail. "I even knelt down to her level," Percy adds proudly. "Just as you told me once. It helps with eye contact, and it makes as if what they say actually matter to you."
Annabeth frowns. "I'm not sure I'm following you with this."
"You will," he says earnestly. "I promise." He takes a gulp of his now-lukewarm coffee. "Okay, so and then she began to talk to me, and instead of being awkward, I just went right in and talked to her."
"That's good."
"Annabeth, you taught me how to interact with kids. You taught me how to connect with them, to just … have fun with them. Annabeth, you taught me all that … how can you say you're not good with kids?"
She frowns again. "Percy, I said that I don't think I'll be a good mother, not that I'm horrible with kids. I'm good with them and I know it. I just don't think the same applies to me raising a human being."
"Isn't it the same thing, though?"
"Percy, it isn't," she says with a sigh. "Playing with kids, having connections with them … that's different than raising them, teaching them. It's so different, and that's the reason why I don't think I'll be a good mother. I'm so spontaneous, I always want to do the right thing, even if it's dangerous … Percy, being a mother means I have to be constant. And I don't like being constant."
"An architect is a pretty constant job. You just design buildings."
"That may be true, but I don't—"
"Maybe you'll change your mind. I know you don't want kids, but Annabeth, you're only twenty-four. You have a whole life ahead of you, and so much love to give … maybe you'll want kids later, when it's too late. And you'll regret it then. I'm not saying you will, but maybe you—"
"PERCY!"
She's visibly frustrated now. "Look," she says, fighting to keep her tone down, "I know how much you want kids. I do. But I'm not going to be a good mother, because, well, look what my own mother did to me." She looks down and fidgets with her napkin, shredding it to pieces. "She abandoned Dad and me when I was a year old. I'm lucky enough that my dad remarried and all so I still got a mother figure, but the point is, my own mother abandoned me because she didn't feel like she was a good enough mother. And I'm my mother's daughter, so go figure."
"Annabeth, you're not your mother." He reaches for her hand across the table, but with a shake of his fiancée's head, she moves it away.
"How can you know that? You didn't know my mother."
"I don't," Percy replies calmly. "But I know you, and from what I've heard, you are not like your mother. I believe that you are not."
"Believe?!" she repeats, incredulous. "Percy, you can't believe something—especially not something like this. What if I take your word, and we have a child? And what if, turns out, I'm exactly like my mother? Our lives—and the kid's—will be changed forever because of this belief. I don't want that." She abruptly stands up. "Percy, I'm out of this conversation. I'm not a good mother, and I never will be."
"Annabeth, wait—"
The bell above the front door rings once, then twice.
Their hot chocolate and coffee are left on the table, cold and forgotten.
He comes home that night and finds her sitting on the couch.
"About what I said earlier … Annabeth, will you think about it?"
"Maybe," comes the short response.
The rest of that night is filled with silence.
When Annabeth comes home the next day, she's carrying a medium-sized box with holes on the sides. Seeing Percy in front of her, she gently sets the box down and strides over to her black-haired fiancée. "Percy."
"Hey," he says gently, wrapping his arms around her, "I'm sorry I tried to convince you. I know you firmly believe that you aren't, and I should've respected that. I shouldn't have tried to change your mind. Maybe tell you that you are not, but not force you to agree with me."
Annabeth buries her face in his shoulder. "I know," she answers, her voice muffled. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have overreacted."
"It's not your fault. I know your mother leaving is a sore subject for you. I shouldn't have brought up that entire thing."
"It's okay."
He tightens his hold on her in response.
After a moment of silence, Annabeth speaks again. "Percy?"
"Yeah?"
"I know we'll never have kids, and that's something you really want, but …" She relinquishes her hold on him and walks over to the box. Picking it up, she continues. "Would you settle for"—she pulls the lid off—"a puppy?"
A brown-and-white head pops out, its pink tongue lolling. Her fiancé laughs, picking up the wriggling animal. "Aw, so you did change your mind after all. We have a kid. Boy or girl?"
"Boy. Jack Russell Terrier."
"Wow. You gave him a full name already?! Without my consent?! And also, why isn't my last name on there?" Percy jokes. "This better not be official. If I'm gonna have a son, he'd better have 'Jackson' as a last name … not some dog-sounding one. Even if he is one."
Annabeth rolls her eyes in response. "You idiot," she says fondly, punching him in the shoulder. She wraps him in a fierce hug again, the puppy between them. They stay like that for a while, Percy holding the puppy in one hand, his other around his fiancée, with both of them watching the brown-and-white fluff that has just entered their lives. It may not be the family Percy has always dreamed of, but this … this dream, he knows he'll love it just as much.
A few months after Annabeth woke up from her five-month coma, they decide it is time to do the thing they'd been planning to do before tragedy struck.
On a clear, quiet Tuesday morning in October, a single, white, crisp envelope is slipped through the mail slot of Jason and Piper Grace's two-storey house in New York City.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Jason Grace,
You are hereby invited to the marriage and union of
Perseus Jackson & Annabeth Chase
In Marble Collegiate Church, New York City
On June 12, 2016
At 1:00pm
R.V.S.P
Omg guys I have finally finished this story! What a ride it has been, haha :P I know I really suck at updating, and nineteen chapters should not take a year and a quarter to finish ... ooops?
This epilogue was really hard to write; I had so much I wanted to include, but I didn't want to make this too long. I still have stuff I wanted to put in, but it didn't seem write.
Reviews:
PoppyOhare: Here's the last chapter! Glad you liked it! :)
Toby4138: Woah, calm down XD Huh, I always thought you were a girl. Oops, my bad :/ Lol. I really did want to add that (Annabeth yelling at him for being so dumb) but I felt that two fights in a single chapter was too much. I might write a post-epilogue scene though, because it really doesn't make sense that Annabeth didn't smack some logic into him.
Guest (Chapter 16): Thanks!
Wise . fan . Girl16: Thank you! I'm glad this is one of your favourites :)
Cansky: Yes! Good job for catching on to that! I actually didn't know if someone noticed, but yay, you did! AND WHAT you liked it so much you read it a second time?! *melts*
Average Canadian: Lol for once you're signed in XD Nice. Lol yeah writers are evil. I love how you complain but you do the exact same thing XD
Guys, thank you so much for ... *checks phone* 51 favourites, 78 follows, and 112 (and counting) reviews! Holy moly I never expected that! This is seriously so awesome.
Seriously, I'm so grateful that you decided to drop your stuff and read this :) I put a lot of thought and time into this and I'm glad you guys enjoyed it :)
Drop a review? Just for last times' sake? :P
Thanks for reading! Seriously. You guys are the best.
- Kiren