Heroes of Olympus Series. Annabeth Chase X Male Reader Story

Hitting The Place Over the Rainbow

(Y/N)'s POV

Feeling yourself both live and die, was not how (Y/N) had expected his departure from the hotel to go, and it was not something that was easy to comprehend mentally. His body felt safe, his mind could process that he was in no danger.

But there was a feeling in his body, like it was in fight mode, like he had to move, he had to run. To escape even, it built up in him, like a pressure, and an anxiety that was hard to explain made his body tremble.

He walked until his legs couldn't carry him, in a trance of sorts, away from the building that seemed to glare down at him, the one he was never entirely sure if the rest of the world could see.

He had stepped outside and within a second, he was drenched to the bone. Thunder shook the sky and storms brewed overhead, he could tell that they were somehow targeted towards him directly, like one of those old cartoons, just on a larger scale.

But he was unconcerned with the rain for once, it didn't bother him, not in the slightest, in fact, he didn't have any feeling towards it whatsoever. The warning signs in his head were all gone, he was too inexperienced to remember this feeling, or where it came from.

So at the time, he had no idea what this feeling meant, he had no knowledge of his trip over the bridge, he had no clue that he had passed over the wrong rainbow. All he knew was, he needed to run.

Though he didn't know why he felt that. He didn't know that he was being attacked, or killed, at this very moment. Or that the last remains of something very important to him were being stolen from him. If he had...oh who was he kidding, it wouldn't have mattered.

(Y/N) felt powerless, not just in the moment, but in general, it was like the feeling washing over him made him weaker, or dulled his senses, until only his instinct to run away remained.

It was like a panic attack in a way, he felt like he was in mortal danger but he wasn't, and his memory was so foggy that he didn't know why or what he was scared of, he attributed it to enemy territory, and the sound of thunder.

He walked with conviction at first, something in him told him that he needed to get away from here.  But with no direction or motive. Even as his pace increased, and he felt his shoes slipping in the rain, all he could think to do was to run faster.

It was like there were eyes on him, staring at him, trying to figure out where he was, there were conflicting emotions rising up in him during his sort of fugue state, his body was moving, but at the same time it wasn't, like it was being pushed, but he didn't actually feel himself walking or running. But he was.

Maybe it was the cold rain making his body numb, but even as he moved, he didn't feel anything, no impacts of his feet, or shudders of cold from his body. He never realized it was because they were being stolen from him.

He felt like he was constantly being watched, but at the same time this emptiness in his chest made him feel alone. The conflicting emotion threw him off so much that he wouldn't realize the origin of the feeling until it was too late, and the connection was broken.

In the final moments, his pace slowed to a halt, his breath seeming to catch like he was fighting for air, the sensation of eyes staring at him felt so strong that they almost hurt him, burning into the back of his mind.

And then, in his last seconds, he couldn't move, tiredness and fatigue washed over him, he wanted to go to sleep, to just keel over and rest on the pavement. A memory swelled in his mind, and he looked up at the pouring rain.

For once, he didn't hate it, even as his freshly ironed clothes stuck to his skin and his bruises ached in protest, the feeling made him almost happy. It reminded him of a better time that he couldn't quite remember. But remembered vividly in his last moment.