νεκρός || Annabeth Chase x Fem!OC

Vol. 2.5-19: There's a ghost in the house

TEMPEST

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I came back late in the day, since the stupid airport guys thought I was a terrorist and I had to kind of do some disguised, daughter-of-Apate magic, but in the end, I made it home.

I knocked on the door and Dr. Chase let me in, looking pleased to see me. I went up to Annabeth's room immediately, hesitating outside it for a minute. I rested my hand on the doorknob, pausing to collect myself.

I turned and tried to open the door, but it was tightly kept shut. I tried again, pushing with more force, but to no avail.

"Dad, I said go away!" Annabeth yelled inside.

I hesitated.

"It's Tempest."

I heard a soft gasp and stepped away from the door, waiting for her to open it. I heard something like wood scratching and saw her shadow moving around under the door. I tilted my head, wondering what she could've done. Then the door flew open and she stood there, breathing heavily. Her blonde hair was greasy and unwashed, her eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with black, and her lips were nearly white and split open. I still thought she was beautiful, though, even more so because I hadn't been around to appreciate it. I just stared at her, lost for words.

She surged forward, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me close. I held her there for a minute, stroking her loose hair calmly. She cried softly, staining my borrowed Led Zeppelin shirt with her tears, but I didn't mind. She pulled away after a few moments and sniffled, wiped her eyes, and pulled me into her room.

I noticed the dresser was out of place, so I guessed that's what she used to lock herself in. Her room was in total disarray, which was very out of character for Anne.

Then she blurted out, "I'm sorry."

I stared at her in disbelief. She was shaking and looking down at her feet, so I couldn't see her grey eyes. "I... You're sorry? Anne, if anyone's sorry, it's me. You didn't do anything wrong."

"You were right," she whispered, her voice still breaking. "You were right about Luke."

I stepped forward and pulled her close. "Anne, I didn't... I didn't go about the situation very good. None of it's your fault, okay?"

She just sobbed and buried her face in my shoulder. "I didn't mean anything I said about you, Tempest."

"Just take a moment," I whispered. "Just breathe."

It occurred to me that Annabeth wasn't processing anything. Anything at all. The wound from Luke's visit was still fresh in her mind. I'd been gone for five days, and had moved past it and discovered what to say and how I messed up. I took a breath, spending time with the Jacksons and such.

What had Anne been doing?

I realized, suddenly, that I had run off, and let Annabeth rot in her bedroom for nearly a week. I didn't so much as try to call or check in on her, despite knowing her email and phone number by heart.

Then it hit me. I don't even have a heart. No wonder I'm such a bad friend.

She calmed down enough for me to talk to her a little more. When we were done, the first thing I did was get her to take a shower. I love her, but it's obvious she hadn't touched a bathtub in about five days. While she was showering, I took to organizing her room and cleaning things up the way she likes. I took her dirty clothes to the laundry room and started a cycle. I made her bed. I swept. I put the dresser back in place. I locked her weapons back up. I cleaned the surfaces and cleared out her dirty dishes. When Anne came back, her hair wet and skin clean, she looked at me with a face of utter shock.