Alright, hey guys. *waves*

So, I just read 'Son of Neptune'. It. Was. AWESOME! I was just so relieved that Percy remembered Annabeth in the beginning so that our hearts didn't have to break as he fell in love with some Roman girl while not knowing about Annabeth. That would have killed me.

This is actually originally for my Creative Writing class, where we had to do a piece having to do with flashbacks. I got to thinking about Annabeth and what she went through during those eight months he was missing (6 of which she knew where he was...sort of.) I kind of thought that she might start just...remembering. That's probably what would happen to me if something like that happened to me. So, after changing a couple of sentences (and basically setting this up as a fanfiction that originally didn't mention any names) this is what I came up with.

This is placed sometime between when Percy goes missing and when they find out that Percy is at Camp Jupiter. So, essentially, sometime in the first two months he's missing.

Anyways, enjoy, and please review.



These days are the worst, she thinks to herself as she sits huddled by the lake, crying her eyes out. The ones when a simple comment or a trivial motion sets her off and she starts remembering.

It's strange how her mind can go from a boy in the park gesticulating wildly and laughing, telling some wild story to watching him at the campfire, his eyes sparkling and his head thrown back with laughter. It's hard to forget, because she doesn't want to (while at the same time, she does).

It hurts to remember that magical night when they just sat there under the stars by this very lake with him stroking her hair gently and reveling in each other's presence. It hurts to remember his smile, his kind eyes, his fierce expression as he led his comrades into battle, the way his dark hair fell into his sea-green eyes.

The fight was over, the war had been won. Why then, why had he been kidnapped, taken far out of her reach?

Two months. Two happy, blissful months of peace after the war had ended, and now look where they were. Back at the beginning again, with probably another war brewing and her boyfriend missing and everyone panicking and in shock. Why did this happen? How could this have happened? Why him?

She swallows hard as tears run rampant down her cheeks, remembering. She flashes back to happier times…well, happier times than now, anyway. After all, the five years she's known that impossible boy, normal was not a word that even graced her vocabulary. Peace had been disintegrating for years; it was only a matter of time until that monster that had once been her best friend, her surrogate father of sorts, rose and destroyed the fragile bonds of peace and harmony.

But that was all over, or so they had thought. Yes, they had to begin the long and painful process of grieving and rebuilding, but there was to be no more fighting. The bad guys had been defeated, the monster had been slain. Look where that thinking had gotten them.

A camp full of despondent demigods, four shocked and angry best friends, and a desperate girlfriend, that's where. She feels helpless; it's not an emotion that comes easily to her, as she's normally so capable of defending herself. Athena always has a plan. Annabeth never backs down, never gives up, and is quite handy with a knife and can whip your sorry butt any day. But now she just feels powerless, unable to help or do anything useful. She's reduced to scouring the country for him and crying her eyes out by the lake.

It's not a feeling she's accustomed to.

She puts up a strong front in front of the others. She pretends that she's fine, that she's not cracking with the pressure to find him and his absence. She pretends that she's holding up well enough to lead the search for him (as though the others would deny her the right to lead the search for her kidnapped boyfriend…that would just be suicide on their part). She pretends that she's not crying her eyes out at least once a week by the lake. She is supposed to be strong. She is supposed to be intelligent. She is supposed to have a plan.

She is not supposed to be weak, to cry her eyes out over some boy. She is not supposed to have no clue where to look. She is not supposed to break down.

But she is. She might not admit it (and if anyone ever mentioned it, she'd probably murder them) but she is slowly cracking. Her armor is breaking, and the illusion is starting to shatter.

Which is why when the flashbacks started, she didn't attempt to stop them. It was her escape, her little slice of heaven in the midst of all this turmoil and hurt in her life. Of course, it made returning to the real world even harder and sometimes she feels like just staying in her world of memories and half-remembered lines. It makes her feel pathetic, that she's relying on some stupid memories to get her through the day, but as long as she doesn't forget his face, his smile, his eyes, she honestly doesn't care.

She doesn't even know if he remembers her, and that just makes everything worse. What if she finds him and he doesn't know who she is? Can her heart even take that? No. It's not even a possibility. He will remember her. He has to.

She's become dependent on these flashbacks, and it's not what she wanted (it's not what he would have wanted either), but as long as he's gone, she'll take what she can get. While she searches the country for him, following month-old leads and rumors that are only half-true, she has only pictures and her memories to remember him by.

So as long as he's missing, she'll deal with her flashbacks. And when she finally finds him (and after she's given him the kiss of his life, followed by the biggest slap he's ever gotten) she'll probably break down in tears and fold, letting him hold her and rock her and just be with her like he hasn't been in over two months. She'll let him stroke her hair and murmur in her ear that everything was going to be alright. She'll wrap her arms around him and never let him go.

And his kidnappers will have hell to pay. She is his girlfriend, and they had climbed too many mountains, leaped over too many obstacles to be together. She would never, ever let anyone tear them apart, not again.

She swears this to herself, in the dark and misty corner of the lake where she sits, her head buried in her knees.

And in the meantime, she contents herself with her memories, with those bright days of playing on the beach and underwater kisses, of fighting side by side and taunting jokes passed between them.

Because really, what else was there?