Betrayed But Never Forgotten

birthday headcannon

Happy birthday Annabeth!!!!

Roses are red
Cookies are blue
I hope percabeth lives too!!!

                                * Special head cannon time *

      

Annabeth sat on her bed, staring at the blank wall of her cabin with a hollow feeling in her chest. It was her birthday, and no one had acknowledged it. Not her siblings, not her friends, and most painfully—not even Percy. The realization stung more than she wanted to admit, a subtle ache that had been growing since she woke to find no messages, no cards, no whispered congratulations.

All around her, her siblings were engrossed in their usual activities—some reading books so intently they might as well have been in different worlds, others hunched over architectural plans and battle strategies with furrowed brows. The familiar scene of focused concentration that usually brought her comfort now only amplified her sense of isolation.

Malcolm looked up from the bed across from hers, finally noticing her unusually subdued demeanor. "Why do you look so grumpy?" he teased, his tone light but eyes showing a hint of genuine concern.

Annabeth met his gaze and forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Today was a special day and nobody remembered," she admitted, hating how vulnerable the words made her feel. Daughter of Athena or not, some hurts were universal.

For the first time in recent memory, Malcolm looked genuinely confused, his analytical mind visibly working through possibilities. "Is it yours and Percy's anniversary?" he asked, leaning forward.

"No," Annabeth replied flatly.

"Then what is it? Your birthday is months away, and Percy's birthday is in August," Malcolm reasoned, confidence in his encyclopedic memory of dates evident in his voice.

Annabeth glared at him, the painful truth crystallizing—everyone really had forgotten her birthday. The oversight felt like a small betrayal, all the more painful because it was so ordinary. No monsters to fight, no gods pulling strings—just human forgetfulness that somehow hurt worse than a knife wound.

Without another word, she stood up and pushed past Malcolm, walking out the door with purposeful strides. Her feet carried her automatically to the beach—the place where she always felt closest to Percy, even when he was the source of her hurt.

As the sound of waves grew louder, Annabeth twisted the ring on her finger—a simple silver band with "Wise Girl" carved on the inside. Percy had proposed just a month ago, on this very beach, under a sky full of stars. The memory should have brought warmth, but today it only highlighted the contrast between that perfect moment and this forgotten milestone.

"Do you want to be alone, or could I join you?" a familiar voice asked from behind her.

Annabeth turned to face Percy, his raven-black hair tousled by the sea breeze and that trouble-maker smile playing on his lips. For a moment, she considered sending him away—letting him feel a fraction of the hurt she'd carried all day—but found she couldn't. Even now, his presence was a comfort she couldn't bring herself to reject.

"Sure," she mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.

She started walking again, and Percy fell into step beside her. They walked in silence, the only sound the gentle rhythm of waves caressing the shore. The tension between them felt both foreign and familiar—like the calm before a storm they'd weathered many times before.

After a while, Annabeth realized they had made it to their special place—the large, flat rock where they often sat to watch the sunset, where Percy had knelt and asked her to share his forever. The rock that held some of her most precious memories, now tainted slightly by the day's disappointment.

Percy smiled and grabbed her hand, leading her over to it. He sat down, and she followed, both of them facing the ocean. The water glistened under the emerging stars, silver-tipped waves reflecting the first few pinpricks of light in the darkening sky.

Annabeth glanced over at Percy and caught him speaking softly into what looked like a small box. He quickly tucked it away when he noticed her watching, offering a smile that seemed different now—secretive, almost mischievous.

"What are you doing?" she asked, suspicion and curiosity mingling in her voice.

Percy turned toward her, his sea-green eyes reflecting the last light of day. "This," he said simply, pointing out over the ocean.

Suddenly, the night sky erupted with color. Fireworks—reds, whites, grays, and greens—painted the darkness with light and sound. The display wasn't random; Annabeth could see patterns forming—owls in flight, tridents that transformed into books, architectural columns that morphed into waves.

Even more incredibly, dolphins began leaping from the water, their graceful arcs forming heart shapes against the backdrop of exploding colors. The impossible choreography could only mean one thing—Poseidon himself was involved.

"Happy birthday, Wise Girl," Percy said softly, leaning over to kiss her tenderly.

In that moment, understanding dawned—the whole day hadn't been forgotten at all. It had been orchestrated, a setup for this breathtaking surprise. The apparent neglect that had wounded her was part of a plan to make this moment all the more powerful.

"Thank you," Annabeth whispered, emotion thickening her voice. The day's hurt transformed into something different—not quite gone, but woven into a tapestry that made the joy of this moment more textured, more real.

She directed her focus back to the spectacular show, but not before catching Percy giving two thumbs up to distant figures she now recognized as Leo and a tall man with Percy's eyes who could only be Poseidon himself.

The bitter sting of feeling forgotten lingered faintly, a reminder of her vulnerability. But it was overwhelmed now by sweetness—the knowledge that Percy had planned something so elaborate, had involved gods and friends alike, all to make her birthday special.

As she leaned against Percy's shoulder, Annabeth decided that perhaps the contrast made it sweeter—like the dark chocolate she preferred, with its perfect balance of bitter and sweet. The hurt of thinking she'd been forgotten made the realization that she was deeply loved all the more powerful.

Best birthday ever, she thought, as the night sky continued to bloom with light and color—a celebration as complex and beautiful as love itself.