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Chapter Text

Gravel crunched underfoot as Annabeth walked up the driveway.

Her eyes took in the view in front of her: the neat three storey house, with its whitewashed walls and french windows that lined the ground floor. It looked like any other family home, with ordinary parents who worked regular jobs, and they raised normal kids to have normal lives. Which was exactly why she knew this was a mistake.

Annabeth felt her stomach do somersaults as she stepped onto the porch, every cell in her body told her to turn back, before it was too late.

But the doorbell beckoned at her, the rusty gold button which had been there for years- seemed to cling on to existence, its sole purpose was for Annabeth's finger to push it, one last time.

She puffed out her cheeks, drew a shaky breath, and rang the bell.

Then she waited.

After what felt like an eternity, Annabeth huffed and pressed it again. Still no answer.

She frowned, were they not home?

Panic settled in her chest. No, this can't be happening, she told herself. She checked her watch, it was almost seven, which meant Frederick would have finished work already. Then why hadn't anyone answered the door?

Annabeth shook her head, she knew why. And she was right, this was a mistake. Nobody was there to receive her because they didn't care.

Her father wasn't that bothered about her. And why would he? She only came because he had called last week, saying they would have liked to see her before school started. Annabeth had made this trip for the sake of it, she felt she ought to. Only now she realised that maybe he'd only asked her to come because he too, felt obligated to do so.

Annabeth blinked back tears as she shouldered her bag and turned around. The corners of her vision went blurry as she stepped back onto the driveway, slowly retracing her steps.

She didn't get far before the door slammed open, making her jump.

She spun around and found Helen Chase standing in the doorway, she was wearing an apron, a mitten on her left hand, and her dark hair was tied hastily in a messy bun.

'H-hi,' Annabeth swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to speak. 'I'm sorry I didn't call ahead, I just thought-'

She had the breath knocked out of her when Helen tackled her in a big hug.

'Annabeth,' Helen whispered. 'Oh thank the gods, you're alive.'

Even though Annabeth was taller than her, she felt small in Helen's arms. Her stepmother's embrace was so warm and comforting- it made her feel loved, wanted.

'Sorry I didn't tell you guys I was coming,' Annabeth mumbled into Helen's shoulder, she smelled of cookie dough and perfume. 'I-I hope it's not a bad time.'

'Nonsense,' Helen rubbed her back affectionately. 'I'm just so relieved you're alright.'

This answer took Annabeth by surprise. She had always prided herself in being able to read people- being able to tell what they were thinking and how they felt. But her stepmother sounded so genuine, like she really cared about her.

Annabeth felt the tears starting to return, 'I-I'm sorry...'

'Honey,' Helen pulled away and studied her face. 'You have nothing to be sorry for.'

She nodded and felt a tear slide down her cheek, which Helen gently wiped away with her thumb.

'Come on dear,' Helen smiled, though she looked like she was trying her best not to cry as well. 'Let's get you inside.'

Helen insisted on taking Annabeth's bag inside for her. She wanted to protest and say she was perfectly capable of doing so herself, but then stopped when she realised that it was actually a nice gesture from her stepmother.

Once they stepped inside, Annabeth took in the scene. The living room was as messy as she remembered, with books and magazines strewn across the sofas, toys laid out on the floor, their owners nowhere in sight. There was something nostalgic about it which made Annabeth feel warm inside.

'I know it's a real mess,' Helen sighed, as if reading her thoughts, she carefully lowered Annabeth's bag onto a chair. 'Your brothers just refuse to listen to me.'

That made Annabeth laugh, before Helen smiled and added, 'neither does your father of course.'

It felt so normal, she thought, when she smiled back at her stepmother; they were acting like she had just come back from a short trip and everything was okay. Like she had never run away when she was a kid, or she hadn't just left more than six months ago to fight another war, and not bothered to call home in that time, not even once.

Annabeth didn't know what to think. Was it a good thing they could act like this, like everything was fine?

'You must be tired huh?' Helen asked her, breaking her chain of thoughts.

Her tone was casual, though Annabeth was pretty sure she didn't look too great. Her hair was a gigantic curled mess from falling asleep on the plane, and her clothes probably didn't look great either, all crumpled from the journey here.

'Yeah,' Annabeth nodded politely. 'I think I'll-'

'Helen,' he called, his footsteps echoed as he rushed down the stairs, and Annabeth's words caught in her throat.

'Who's at...'

At first Frederick Chase just stood there, stunned. Almost as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing, or his brain simply refused to accept that she was actually here, right in front of him.

'H-hi dad,' Annabeth smiled nervously. The hairs on her neck tingled with anticipation, what was he going to think?

She honestly couldn't tell, and for a moment, she felt her chest close up in alarm. Maybe he would be furious and tell her off, for firstly, not letting them know she had decided to come, and then say something about how he was busy, and it was a bad time. It wouldn't have been the first instance she'd been on the receiving end of his tired, misplaced frustration with her mother.

But before she knew it, and to her complete and utter relief, Frederick had walloped her in a huge hug.

'Annabeth.' He trembled slightly, like actually having her here, in the flesh, was too much to handle. 'Y-you came back.'

She stood there, statue-like, but he held on tight all the same, as if letting go would make her disappear.

Not for the first time today, Annabeth was stumped by the warmth of the reception she had received.

She was speechless. She had dwelled so much on how it was going to go wrong, that now, she had no idea what to say, or how to say it.

Yet slowly, she wrapped her arms around his midriff, hugging him back. He'd put on a bit of weight since she had last seen him, and the stubble on his face made him appear scruffy, a sure indicator he'd been working a lot recently.

'I'm sorry dad,' she sniffed. She felt the tears begin to well up but she fought back against them. She wasn't even sure what exactly she was apologising for, or why she felt so worn out and raw, but she did know she wanted this to work out.

'Annabeth,' he choked as he said her name. 'Honey, you don't have to say sorry.'

Helen came up from behind her and circled her arms around her waist, sandwiching Annabeth between them. 'You've done nothing wrong dear.'

Oh but she had though, it was her fault she and Percy had fallen into Tartarus. Her fault for not cutting those stupid spider webs when she had the chance. And, although Percy would never agree with her, it was her fault they couldn't sleep anymore, not without being drenched in sweat and screaming.

Suddenly, Annabeth felt a whole new torrent of guilt wash over her, they didn't even know did they?

How could they? She never told them about any of it, in fact the only reason they had any sort of vague idea about what she had been through was, well, because of Sally.

Sally was the one who had kept them updated while she and Percy had been down there. It was Sally- her boyfriend's mother, not Annabeth, who had told them when they had won, and they were safe.

'I fell and I-I brought Percy with me,' Annabeth tried to slow her words down, but it came pouring out, 'it's my fault we were down there. I-I didn't cut the webs, and it was too late and-'

'Shhh' Helen kissed the back of her neck. 'It's okay dear, you're safe now.'

'Yeah. You don't have to tell us, only if you want to' her father muttered, voice hoarse. 'And when you're ready, we'll be here.'

Annabeth was crying now, she couldn't hold the tears back any longer. She sobbed, loud and unabashed, into his shoulder, her body convulsed with each ragged breath.

They were being so nice to her, and Annabeth couldn't believe it. She had been horrible to them, and it became more apparent the more she thought about it. It was true they hadn't handled her well when she was a child. But the last year or so, they had been nothing but supportive and caring, always asking her to visit or if she was free to chat on the phone.

What had she given them in return? Months of radio silence, sure some of which she didn't have a choice, but for the majority of the time, she could have at least made the effort to call.

Helen and Frederick both hugged her tighter as she cried. She kept sniffling, trying to say sorry, only she was crying so much the word became gargled and she was quite sure they couldn't hear her.

'It's okay,' Helen cooed at her, but her voice was shaky and her arms shuddered slightly. Her father tried comforting her too, telling her it was alright, but she found it impossible to hear him over her own sobs.

It occurred to her that the both of them were crying as well. Helen's tears raced down the back of her neck, and the shoulder area of her shirt had begun darkening, her father's tear-stained face pressed against it.

They stayed that way for a bit, the three of them in one awkward big hug, tears and limbs and all. Nobody moved, nobody spoke. Annabeth found she was okay with that.

She actually kind of liked it.

Chapter Text

Annabeth dreamed she was falling.

The wind roared in her ears and her skin was prickling more and more. It was getting hotter, which meant she was getting closer.

Closer to the bottom.

She gripped him harder. Her eyes screamed out in pain at the sheer speed with which they propelled down.

The river Phlegethon came into view, looming larger by the second. Desperately, she strained against gravity, willing them to reverse course and head back up to safety. Her efforts were in vain. All it did was send a jolt of pain through her broken ankle, making her yelp. Annabeth knew there was no escape, not from what awaited them down there- the terrors within...

Tears formed at the corners of her eyes and they were swept away just as quickly, along with any remnants of hope she had clung onto. Her eyes lit up bright red, reflecting the bubbling surface of the Phlegethon.

With one last scream, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and squeezed her eyes shut as they plunged into the fire...

"Annabeth!"

A steady pair of hands gripped her shoulders. Holding her down as she trashed around in the bed.

Tears streamed down her face and she yelled out in desperation. She was still stuck down there, her ears going deaf from the roaring wind. Not again. Please no more, she pleaded, please.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

She groaned. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, taking in the scene. Her father, Frederick, his greying hair a rat's nest, not unlike her own, loomed above her now still body. He loosened his grip on her shoulders, his pyjama sleeves slightly torn at the wrists. His eyes were wide with concern, his lips formed a thin line - parallel to the frown marks on his forehead.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" He repeated the question, probing Annabeth to respond. Alas, all she managed was a blank gaze.

Helen stood a few feet away, though she looked just as shaken up as her husband. Her hands clutched a pillow. Annabeth realised that must have been hers, assuming she must have thrown it at them amidst all the screaming, since her head was now flat on the sheets.

Had she been screaming? The scary part was Annabeth could only assume she had been. Otherwise Helen and her father wouldn't have been stood in front of her, trying in vain to soothe her. The last thing she recalled was falling. Falling into the fire.

"Annabeth honey," Helen slowly made her way toward them and gently touched her hand, the pillow tucked snugly under her arm. "Was it a nightmare?"

She looked up at the pair of concerned figures which loomed over her. Frederick had one arm around his wife's waist, his right hand still held onto Annabeth's shoulder. They were waiting, expectantly, for a response - any response.

She managed a weak nod.

"Do you need anything?" Her father asked. "Water?"

Annabeth's throat burned, similar to all the times she had gulped down liquid fire from the Phlegethon. Her tongue recoiled in protest at the memory. She had definitely been screaming. Although what made it worse was how real it seemed. She really believed she was down there again, only this time she felt something she never had before: Hopeless.

She burst into tears.

Instantly, Frederick enveloped her in a hug and lifted her so she sat up on the bed, sobbing into his shoulder. Helen wrapped her arms around both of them, she rubbed Annabeth's back soothingly in between shudders.

"It's okay, it was just a bad dream that's all," he whispered in her ear. "You're safe now."

Annabeth squeezed her eyes closed. It really wasn't okay. In fact, she couldn't stop crying. But at that point, she honestly didn't care if the entire neighbourhood woke up. They didn't understand the pain she had felt - that she still felt. She had reached tipping point so long ago that she was running on reserve, she had been for months.

She was sick of her nightmares, sick of the quests, and sick of being a demigod. But she knew that the nightmares would never really stop, just like everything else in her messed up demigod life. Sure, most who knew her would agree she'd done more than her fair share of world saving. But what if there was another war? There was no end to it. No escape.

She would always be waiting for the next battle, and she would always struggle to survive. That was demigod life. That was her life. Whether she liked it or not.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Helen asked. She carefully returned the pillow to its original spot on the bed.

Annabeth shook her head ever so slightly, her chin resting on her father's shoulder. The stubble on his jaw tickled her ear, reminding her of old times; when she was a child and he would have to hold her until she stopped screaming.

Clearly, some things never changed: she was just as scared as she was ten years ago. That wasn't supposed to happen. Now that she was bigger, she was supposed to be stronger. Yet the nightmares still left her in tears.

"Remember what I used tell you?" Her father chuckled warmly, as if reading her thoughts. "It's just a nightmare. It can't hurt you."

That didn't make Annabeth feel better. If anything, it proved that in many ways the bawling, terrified little version of herself was still there. It was part of her. The thought made Annabeth sad. She used to be proud of how far she had come, only now she wasn't so sure.

"You know every time you had a nightmare," Frederick continued, "you would tell me 'Daddy, the spiders are real! They're under the bed!' "

"And I remember," he said as he pulled away from her, "I refused to believe you."

Frederick paused again as he studied her face for a second. Annabeth was certain it must not have been a pretty sight. Her eyes were all red and puffy, plus she could've sworn there was mucus leaking out her nose.

However, he smiled all the same, his eyes misty when he muttered, "I'm sorry about that."

He may have said it quietly and in the softest of voices, but she heard him loud and clear.

"We're sorry about that."

Helen corrected him, and she scooted over and sat beside Annabeth. "We should've been more understanding of what you were going through last time," Helen grabbed her hand tightly, a tear slid down her cheek as she said, "But I promise honey, we will do better."

"And for what it's worth," her father added. "We believe you now."

They watched as Annabeth adjusted herself, and sat up straight on the bed. The silence was awkward. Honestly, she preferred it. Better everyone sat quietly than the screaming and thrashing that came before.

She hadn't said a word - but what was she supposed to say? That everything was okay and she was fine? The damage had been done. She hadn't decided if she forgave them, perhaps they didn't deserve it.

Still, Annabeth found herself thinking, that even though apologies couldn't fix everything, it was a start. To her, it felt like a step in the right direction. She just didn't know how to tell them that. Not without crying all over again. Thankfully, she didn't have to, Helen broke the silence.

"Annabeth, I can't ever pretend to understand everything you've been through, but..."

She faltered and glanced at her husband, who nodded in support. "But if you ever want to talk about it dear..." Helen choked as she said the last part, like she was worried how Annabeth would respond.

To Helen's surprise and her own, Annabeth hugged her stepmom. Yes, they'd hurt her before. And maybe them trying again now would never be enough. But just like how that scarred part of her from Tartarus would never fully heal (and she had all the nightmares to serve as timely reminders), it didn't mean things couldn't get better. At the very least, it was worth a shot.

"Anytime you're ready honey, I'll be here." Helen kissed her cheek. "I promise."

Annabeth hugged her tighter. "I'd actually really like that."

"Hey, where's my hug?" Frederick complained, making them both laugh.

As he proceeded to wrap his arms around them, Annabeth felt all her sadness and fear evaporate. A burden she'd been carrying for weeks without realising. And in its place, came a warm fuzzy feeling unfamiliar to her.

She wondered if that was what having a home felt like; what having a family felt like.

For the first time in a long while, Annabeth slept soundly.

Chapter Text

She clung tightly to the railing.

The smell of freshly baked pancakes wafted through, making her stomach rumble, as she made her way down the stairs. Hunger wasn't the only thing affecting her stomach though, it had begun doing somersaults the moment she left her room. It felt all too surreal to her - everything that happened.

After arriving unannounced last night, she had then spent the early hours of the morning screaming and throwing a fit that any crazy person would have been proud of. Granted all of that happened while she'd been unconscious, yet looking at what had happened while she was awake, and it was clear she spent a good chunk of that in a crying, weeping mess. All in all, it wasn't a great start to her stay here.

Annabeth didn't think she could handle causing another scene during breakfast. All it would take would be for her to hear another sorry, and if there was even an ounce of pride left in her, it would be gone the moment she started sobbing at the table. So yeah, she was just slightly nervous.

She reached the ground floor, although nobody seemed to be around. That was, until her stepmother emerged from the kitchen, holding a steaming hot tray piled with pancakes.

"Morning sleepyhead!" Helen smiled brightly as she made her way to the table, careful to avoid stepping on any stray toys left on the ground.

"Good morning," Annabeth stifled a yawn. "It smells really good."

"Thank you hun," Helen gave her a wink, as she set the tray down. She gestured for Annabeth to take a seat. "Good thing you came down yourself. Didn't want to wake you, I was worried you wouldn't get enough sleep."

Annabeth felt her mouth begin to water as she pulled out a chair to sit down, there was literally piles and piles of cookies and pancakes. It reminded her exactly of what breakfasts at the Jacksons were like. Sally would try her best to stuff Percy and her with so much food until her stomach felt like exploding. That made her think about how much Percy would have loved to gobble up all the food sat in front of her. She missed him.

Helen handed her a glass of milk, which she kindly accepted. Her stepmother hummed happily, pouring herself a glass before sitting down opposite her.

Annabeth twisted her hands underneath the table as she racked her brain for something to say. She wasn't used to spending time with Helen, not when it was just the two of them.

"They're still you're favourite right?"

"Huh?" Annabeth frowned, caught off guard.

"I meant the pancakes, honey." Helen nodded towards the tray, which just so happened to be placed right in front of her.

Annabeth found that surprising, but also slightly strange. The mornings she remembered in this house, had always involved hurtful comments about the previous night. The constant complaining - saying the screams had to stop, how she was a pest to be rid of. She would cower in the angry gaze of her stepmother, while her father would sit at the table, indifferent to what was going on. There wasn't anywhere to hide. No escape from the spiders, or the nightmares, or her family.

That was, until she ran away, swearing she would never return.

She was back now. And as she met Helen's eyes, with all the warmth and love that radiated from her face, Annabeth could barely fathom how different everything was. The exact opposite of what she had expected when she arrived. But it was exactly what she needed, all those years ago.

"Yeah," Annabeth found herself saying. "They still are."

It was those moments. Those fleeting moments of everyday family life that most would consider uneventful, or even mundane, which Annabeth found most peculiar.

Of course she had experienced this before: the loud banging of cutlery, gulping down glasses of milk, the happy munching on syrup soaked pancakes. But it had all taken place on the other side of the country - at camp, or sometimes in Percy's home, but never in this unremarkable suburban dwelling in the middle of San Francisco.

But it was in this house, where she was now sat, smiling and laughing. Her father sat quietly reading the newspaper. Her stepbrother, Bobby, wrestling with his twin, Matthew, over who got the last cookie. They got syrup all over the table, their mother rolling her eyes at them.

"Since you don't know how to share," Helen chided, as she snatched the cookie from them and offered it to Annabeth. "You can let your sister have it."

Annabeth laughed as she took the cookie, broke it, offering half to each of the boys.

Even simple things, like Helen smiling at her when she offered to help clean up, or her father probing her on her school work, made Annabeth feel all fuzzy inside. It made her feel wanted. Like maybe things really were different, maybe this house could finally be a home for her.

Her father, for the first time, seemed content. In fact, he was the happiest she'd seen him. He laughed when she shared funny stories about camp, and he seemed genuinely interested in how Percy was doing, asking about Annabeth's boyfriend. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I always thought he was a nice boy."

"Oh please," Helen snorted, as she walked out the kitchen. "Annabeth honey, I had to remind your father ten times you guys were dating."

And Annabeth couldn't stop laughing, while her father, red in the face, desperately protested.

"That's because they were both so shy about it! I thought, well, I-I didn't want to assume!"

Helen shook her head, smiling. "We really should have him over one day."

Annabeth couldn't agree more. She used to avoid talking about her family, even when Percy asked. But now she wished he was here to witness all of this - the love, the support, and the normalcy of it all, that she'd always dreamed of.

"You would really like him, Dad."

"Of course," Frederick said. "I'm sure I would."

Once in a while Annabeth needs her 'alone' time, something her friends didn't always understand.

Funnily enough, it was something her father always gave her. Partly due to his earlier negligence, but also because he was someone who understood and appreciated having some moments to himself during the day. She guessed she took after him in that respect.

And it wasn't like Annabeth didn't appreciate the warm smile on her face, or the plate of freshly baked cookies she had presented her with, but with her father out for the afternoon (something about taking the boys to soccer practice), Annabeth saw her window of opportunity.

With Frederick's permission, she had borrowed his laptop to FaceTime Percy. They hadn't spoken since she'd arrived, and she missed him. A lot. But it had barely been thirty seconds, before a knock on the door interrupted them.

"Annabeth honey, I was wondering if you wanted some - oh!"

Helen, caught by surprise, stopped in her tracks when she realised Annabeth wasn't the only person listening.

Percy sat up straighter, and he waved on screen. "Hey Mrs Chase." His tone was polite, but only Annabeth could tell his expression had turned slightly guarded.

"Hello Percy," Helen waved back.

She turned to Annabeth with an apologetic smile, and mouthed a sorry.

"It's okay." Annabeth waved it off, like it was no big deal and she was not in fact, bothered by the intrusion.

However Helen still seemed to have picked up on her abrupt intrusion. What happened next though, was something Annabeth hadn't considered within the realm of plausibility.

Instead of leaving, her stepmother glided into the room, pulled up a chair, and sat down right next to her. "Well, I was going to offer you a cookie," she said, holding them up for emphasis, before she turned to the screen. "Percy dear, sorry you can't have one, Annabeth has told me how much you love them!"

"No worries Mrs Chase." Percy chuckled before extending his arm out of view. He smiled as he presented them with a blue treat. "Thank gods my Mom baked a batch just now."

"Aww that's lovely." Helen smiled, before turning to her. "Annabeth honey, I realised I've never actually had the chance to talk to Percy. I hope I'm not intruding."

Her request took Annabeth by surprise, and her mind went blank. "Umm..." Her eyes drifted towards the screen, where Percy studied her closely. He seemed more relaxed than at first.

She looked back at her stepmother: the way she grinned, genuinely excited to talk to him - just like how any other mother would love to meet her daughter's boyfriend. Except Annabeth was pretty sure they weren't anything like most mother-daughters, similar to how she was pretty sure that she couldn't say no. Her brain sighed silently, alone time with her Seaweed Brain would have to wait.

"Nah, it's not a big deal," she shrugged.

"Great!" Helen beamed, before settling her attention on the screen. "So Percy..."

So it went for the next ten or so minutes; Annabeth watched as her stepmother fired question after question at her boyfriend: How is your mother? How's school? When are you coming to visit? Percy responded in kind to all her questions, he even got excited and mentioned that Sally was pregnant, and they were expecting the baby soon.

Annabeth didn't really mind, she kind of figured that this was part of the process. If things were going to work out between them, Helen needed to not only get to know her better, but the people in her life as well.

But then Helen said something which, not only made Annabeth's heart skip a beat, but visibly and quite hilariously, made Percy choke on his half-eaten cookie.

"Are you treating her well?" Helen asked. The seriousness in her tone a complete contrast to the light-hearted questions from before.

"What-" Percy coughed out bits of cookie. "Um, uh..."

"I'm talking about Annabeth." Helen nodded her head at her.

The son of Poseidon looked stranded. His cheeks turned a light pink when he mumbled. "I-I..." Percy's mouth hung open, looking like a fish gasping for air. He stared at his girlfriend, silently pleading for help.

Frankly, Annabeth found the question amusing. The thought of Percy - the person who'd saved her life countless times over the years, would, even for an instance, not treat her well? Annabeth would've laughed, if not for the fact that Helen clearly wasn't kidding.

Unfortunately, Percy had been stunned into silence, and Helen tilted her head to look at Annabeth instead.

"Is he treating you well?"

Annabeth didn't know what it was, but the way her stepmother studied her, the fierce intensity in her gaze, reminded her a lot of Athena, her immortal mother. It struck her that Helen was displaying a similar sort of protectiveness, as Athena had previously, over her. The kind of maternal shield that said: just say the word, I'll make sure I end him. But there was a difference. Athena had already decided that she simply did not like Percy - or rather the idea of him being with her, while Helen seemed more concerned about Annabeth's actual well-being, not the boy in question.

"Yeah," Annabeth felt some new-found affection bubbling inside of her, as she smiled at her stepmother. "Percy's amazing."

"I'm happy to hear that." Helen gave her a wink before she faced the screen. "Percy, you make sure you it stays that way."

Percy swallowed. "Y-yeah, of course."

"Good. Well, I better leave you guys to it..." Helen announced as she stood up.

"Honey, don't forget dinner's at 7. And Percy..." She smiled at Annabeth, before eyeing him up once more. "It was nice chatting to you." With that, Helen Chase strolled out.

Despite her assurances that she was no longer in ear shot, Percy still insisted that Annabeth close the door before they carried on talking. She duly obliged and even made it a point to lock the door, making sure he could hear the click.

"Oh my gods," Percy exclaimed, "what in Hades just happened?"

Annabeth couldn't hide her smirk as she sat cross-legged on the bed.

"I believe what we've just witnessed will go down as one of Percy Jackson's finest moments."

"Don't even." He groaned into his pillow, making her laugh.

"Oh come on Seaweed Brain, it wasn't so bad."

He stared at her.

"Okay it was pretty bad." She confessed, though she was having a hard time hiding her grin. "For you, not for me."

"Nah I'll get over it," Percy sighed. "Or at least forget it ever happened."

"You can try."

"I think I've got a better chance with her than Athena." He shivered. "Feels like you've got two moms now huh?"

Annabeth smiled, she actually loved that idea.

She remembered something Chiron had once told her. In life, trust was the hardest to build and the easiest to break. And once broken, it's impossible to build back up.

Annabeth had thought that was certainly true when it came to her life. A lack of trust could create problems in all relationships.

She thought about the anger she felt when Luke had betrayed her - how broken she felt inside. And when he begged her to run away with him just like the old days, the reason she said no wasn't because she didn't care about him, but rather he'd broken the trust she'd placed in him.

Her relationship with her father and Helen felt a lot like that. She could recall numerous incidents over the years, when it was clear they didn't trust her, and vice versa. It seemed like there was no way back. Impossible.

At least, that was what she was thinking about as her parents rushed out the door at quarter past seven. They were dressed smartly, like they were going somewhere fancy.

Her father had spotted her sprawled on the sofa, engrossed in her new book.

"Annabeth, you're in charge. Look after the boys."

"What?"

He didn't respond when he opened the door and unlocked the car. "Honey," Helen, in her dark olive dress, waved a hand at her, slipping on her heels at the same time. "There's some leftovers in the fridge, if you or the boys are hungry."

"Sure," Annabeth replied, her book tucked under her arm.

"Sorry we didn't tell you earlier, we completely forgot we had this dinner."

"Yes," Frederick agreed, holding the door open for his wife. "And now we're late."

Seconds later and they were gone. Leaving Annabeth in charge. And she found herself wondering: what do twelve year old boys like to eat? The answer was pretty simple. Pizza. She got the idea when she realised they liked the same thing Percy did.

Within half an hour, two pizzas were delivered, Netflix was on the TV, and Bobby and Matthew were sat on the sofa. Annabeth made herself comfy in the love seat and grabbed a slice. She let them choose the film, her book wasn't going to read itself.

It was strange, she thought, glancing up from her book to find Bobby and Matthew argue over who got the last slice while Avengers: Age of Ultron blared in the background, how much they seemed to trust her.

The car pulled up slightly past eleven. Annabeth heard the car doors close as she opened the door to let them in. It wasn't long before she was once again on the receiving end of a warm hug. Her father smiled and squeezed her arm. "Hope the boys weren't much trouble?"

"Nah, we had pizza and watched a movie. I had them in bed by ten."

"Honestly Annabeth, I don't know how you do it," Helen laughed. "I can never get them to sleep."

"It was pretty easy actually," She shrugged. "I kinda just told them and they listened."

This time, it was her father's turn to laugh. When he looked at her, his eyes were sparkling. "Thanks for taking care of them." He said as he kissed her cheek.

She gave them each a quick hug goodnight before she headed upstairs.

The bedroom door creaked as Annabeth opened it. Her mind racing a hundred miles an hour. Nothing much had happened that evening, yet it felt important.

It felt important because she could still remember.

She could remember how her stepmother would refuse to let her play with the boys when they were toddlers, saying she was a danger to them even though and she was just a kid herself. Her father was always working, never failing to express his annoyance the moment she wandered into his study.

Now wherever she went she was greeted with bright smiles and cookies which tasted like heaven. It was like an inversion of the nightmare she once lived through in this house. They'd gone from not trusting her at all, to trusting her completely. To look after her brothers, her family.

Annabeth stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, her face a mask of serenity. Her thoughts slowly drifted and she contemplated whether this was real - not a mirage where she would soon have to face reality. Because never in her wildest dreams did she envisage being able to trust them, and she was certain they hadn't either.

The old centaur's advice echoed in her mind. The hardest to build, the easiest to break.

Was this broken? Yes, she thought. At one point in time that was certainly true.

But part of her journey through life was forming her own views on trust, and in her opinion, Chiron was wrong to say impossible.

Tonight was proof of that.

The USS Hornet, a former US Navy World War II aircraft carrier, was a sight she'd always admired. Now, she was standing here in person. Her father had kept it a surprise, making use of a free afternoon he had to drive them.

The sun was out, it was windy by the pier. The breeze blew through her hair, smelling of freshwater. She couldn't help but think of him as she gazed up at the view in front of her.

"Frederick," Helen called, holding Bobby and Matthew's hands. "I'll take the boys inside first."

"Hmm, sure honey."

She smiled, shaking her head. "You and your war relics. Annabeth, make sure he doesn't stay out here the whole time."

Annabeth nodded, and watched as her stepmother took the two boys up the ship.

"Beautiful isn't it?" He put his arm around her, marvelling at the empty vessel in all its glory.

"It looks kinda worn out." She noted.

Her father nodded, his eyes glued to the museum ship. He seemed lost in thought. Annabeth could relate.

Like her father, she could appreciate history - the relics it left behind, the story that was there, for anyone with the curiosity and the willingness to lend an ear to listen. The important lessons from the past, inevitably play a vital role in shaping the future. Ignore it, and run the risk of making the same mistake that many who came before had made. Learn from it, and maybe you can build something better. Something permanent.

"Well, she's had her fair share of trouble, taken some serious hits, but," Frederick paused and turned to his daughter, a faraway look in his eyes.

"She's still standing."

"Yeah," Annabeth smiled.

Just like me, she thought.

She wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

The rest of the week seemed to pass by in a blur.

There were trips to the cinema, the park, and art museums. Annabeth was really getting her fill of San Francisco. A whole other side of the city she had never seen before. Not only that, but also a whole other side of her life she hadn't experienced until now.

Her parents were careful not to bring up the nightmares. She still had them, off and on, just like the first night she'd arrived. They would come in, comfort her, tell her she was safe. But they never asked what she dreamt about, or for any details. They didn't demand explanations for the screaming. Instead, they would sit in silence with her, until she fell back asleep.

There were a couple times, when her father would stop himself from saying something, like he was worried about offending her. After some pestering, he told her what was bothering him. Turned out he wanted to know what colleges she was applying to. So she let him help her with it. He was keen on her applying to California, unashamed to admit the reason when she asked him.

"You could visit us all the time," He said excitedly, before quickly adding. "And Percy's welcome too."

She laughed, telling him she would definitely consider it. The New Rome/Berkeley dream didn't hinge on her, her own grades were good enough. But she didn't care, she was going to go wherever Percy went. She couldn't live without him.

Movie nights were definitely her favourite. Helen made buttery popcorn, and everyone would squeeze onto the sofa. They always let her choose the film and she was never sure why. Every time she did, about halfway through everyone had fallen asleep, including her father. She didn't mind though, she snuggled up under the blankets with them, and drifted off into blissful sleep.

She thought it was kind of sweet, when Helen offered to take her shopping, after she noticed Annabeth wearing the same shirt two days in a row. She agreed, although she wasn't much of a shopper. But it turned out to be lots of fun. And they got their nails done as well, Annabeth's first time getting a manicure. She had always thought it a pointless grooming routine which lots of girls blew their money on, but it was surprisingly relaxing. It was also really nice chatting to Helen, as she found out. She even joked that she enjoyed it so much she was thinking of bringing Percy to get his nails done.

Annabeth decided against bringing her new clothes back to New York. She left them in the closet, certain she would need them for next time.

Pretty soon, she was standing in the departure terminal.

She had done this several times over the years. Usually, visits home ended badly. Monsters attacked, enemies showed up at their doorstep, nightmares made the neighbours complain. And so, by the time she had to leave there was always a mutual sense of relief for those involved.

Annabeth wasn't feeling relieved this time. She had already hugged Bobby and Matthew goodbye as she walked out the front door with Helen and her father. It was just the three of them at the airport. But saying goodbye to her brothers was a lot harder than she thought, and Annabeth wasn't looking forward to round two.

"Thanks for driving me." She forced a happy smile as she hugged him.

Her father held on tightly. 'You won't stay away too long right?" A slight tremor in his voice, that she just about managed to detect. But she couldn't reply, the words got stuck in her throat.

"You always have a home here, with us." He kissed her cheek. "I love you Annabeth."

"I love you too, Dad." Annabeth felt her own eyes begin to well up, but steeled herself as she left his embrace. She decided that before she completely lost it, and started bawling in the middle of San Francisco Airport, she would at least have them far away enough to avoid being subject to judgmental stares.

"I'll miss you," she turned to Helen with open arms.

"Oh honey." Her stepmother hugged her tightly, her hand cradled the back of Annabeth's head. "I'll miss you too, so much."

"Thanks for all the cookies... and the clothes." Annabeth sniffled into her shoulder.

"Anything for my girl." Helen pulled away and looked her in the eyes, gripping her shoulders. "I love you, okay?"

Annabeth felt the tears slide down her cheek. "I love you too... Mom"

Helen's breath caught at that last word, she was crying as she kissed Annabeth's forehead.

After a few moments, Annabeth thought she would let go, but she didn't. She held on. And her father was wrapping his arms around them too. Gods forbid that unless there was another war, she at least found comfort in the knowledge she would be seeing them again. That didn't it make any less painful though.

Annabeth never knew goodbyes could be so hard.

"I missed you, Seaweed Brain."

That was the first thing she said when she spotted him, patiently waiting outside the bag collection. Annabeth didn't even bother returning his hello, instead she grabbed his face and kissed him. Hard. Percy smiled against her lips and mumbled. "Mmm... I missed you too Wise Girl."

He pulled away shortly after and grabbed her hand, his green eyes glittered with excitement.

"How was it?"

"The flight? Or the whole trip?"

"Both," Percy laughed. "But mainly the trip."

"Actually..." She trailed off, grinning as she thought about the week that went by.

"Oh no, what did you do? Why are you smiling like that?"

"Nooo! Percy," Annabeth laughed, rolling her eyes. "I'm just happy."

It was true, she was happy. And there was something else too, which she hadn't been able to recognise before: closure. But rather than simply signifying the end of a chapter, Annabeth could now imagine all the possibilities and new beginnings which came with it.

Percy raised an eyebrow at her. "Happy because?"

"Because, it was great. And I never imagined this but," She grinned and shook her head. "Honestly, I kind of miss them now."

"Sounds like you had the perfect trip."

"Well, almost perfect. There was someone missing."

She kissed him on the cheek, which made him smile.

"Oh, and they want me to visit again soon! But with you this time."

Percy shivered at the thought. "Are you sure? Helen kinda scared me."

Annabeth couldn't stop her laughter, and as she stared into captivating sea green eyes and held his hand, she got that warm fuzzy feeling all over again. She finally realised what it was.

Home.

She was certain of it now. Because home isn't a place, it's a feeling.

And as crazy as it seemed a week ago, she was going to miss that small house in California, and the people who lived within it.