Again: A Percy Jackson Fanfiction

3: At least home hasn't changed

All main characters in this story belong to Rick Riordan, unless mentioned otherwise. A few minor characters to get the story flowing will be created by me.

Note: I'm sorry about the spacing on the first chapter. I attempted to fix it, but I couldn't, I'm sorry.

We drove home in silence. My mom had attempted to make conversation several times, but each sentence died off quickly, like a plate of blue cookies set on the table. Each time she tried to speak, I shook my head. Metaphorically, no one touches my cookies.

"Seaweed Brain, since when do you use the word metaphorically?" Annabeth asked me.

"Since I met you. Your super smart Athena genes are rubbing off on me"

"Percy, gods don't have DNA."

I tried to hold imaginary Annabeth in my mind, picturing her next to me in the car. She wore her camp half blood shirt, and jeans. Her unbrushed hair was pulled in a messy ponytail. Her startling grey eyes softened as she laughed at me. She was more beautiful than Aphrodite. I reached my hand out to touch her face, but my hand met only air.

"Annabeth..." I whispered softly as she faded away. I caressed the air where Annabeth's face was. My mom quickly turned to me, then her eyes were back on the road. I guess it looked weird to see me patting the air like that. From an outside perspective, I can see why I would need a therapist.

"We're almost there" My mom told me. I already knew. I recognized the streets and buildings as we approached our apartment complex.
She pulled in the parking garage, when I realized I had never been in there. My mom didn't own a car. In fact, I don't even remember what car I got into when I left the hospital. I was talking to Annabeth, who was telling me about a building she was designing. In past times, I groaned and sighed as Annabeth started talking. At the hospital, I hung on to my invisible girlfriend's words like a starfish to an algae wall.

We got out of the car, and I examined it. I saw the familiar Prius logo that I had seen on Paul's car.

Paul's car.

As my mom and I walked out of the garage, up the stairs, and into the lobby, she started to speak.

"When we get upstairs, Percy, don't be suprised. I.. met someone while you were in a coma. He's a really nice guy, and a teacher at a nearby high school. I would've had you enrolled, but you missed 5 years of education, and you'll need to be in a special program."

My ears tuned out everything but "met someone", "nearby school", and "special program". I got the gist. We walked through the carpeted hallways without speaking further. A woman's cat screeched. An open door revealed a family arguing and moving boxes back and forth. I didn't recognize them, so I assumed it was their first day here.

We reached our door, the same one as always. A silver painted "142" labeled the room number. My mom turned the key and we were in.

Things weren't that different inside than they were 5 years ago. The furniture was rearranged. The pictures on the walls showed a younger version of me, from ages 5-12. Last time I was here, pictures of me and Annabeth hung on the walls. The photo from my last Argo two reunion party was also absent.

"Paul? Paul, are you here?"

Paul entered the room in a suit with a toothbrush in his mouth. He tried to say something, but foam came out from his mouth. He spat in the kitchen sink.

"So this is Percy." He said to my mother. He smiled and walked over to me hand outstretched.

"Hi, I'm Paul Blofis"
I shook his hand, shocked to see him here. I guess it wasn't my doing that he crossed paths with my mother in the first place, so it made some sense to see him here now.

"I'll make cookies. Do you want to get settled in Percy?"

"Sure". Settled in? This is my home. Why would I need to be "settled in"?

I walked down the hallway toward what I knew was my bedroom. I turned the handle and opened the door. It was like going through a portal. My room looked like it did when I was twelve, but much cleaner. The bed was made, the clothes that would normally be strewn across the ground were washed and folded in the dresser drawers.

I held up a t-shirt. It was much too small for me now. It was a deep blue, with a goldfish on it. I remember when my mom bought it for me. I thought it was so stupid. Why would I want a shirt with a smiling goldfish with cartoon bubbles coming out of its mouth? But to make my mom happy, I wore it. I came home with a black eye the next day, and my mom didn't mention the shirt again.

I turned around, the shirt still in my hand. Annabeth was sitting there, giving me an exasperated look.

"Seaweed Brain... use that brain of yours. You aren't looking for me hard enough. Use your brain."

Her lip twisted into a pout. It was a strange look for Annabeth. She looked like a puppy dog begging for attention, but I was willing to give her my attention.

"The moonlace, Percy, the moonlace" My brow furrowed in confusion. Then I remembered. The plant Calypso had given me... the one that had been growing wild the last time I was here. I walked over to the window and pushed it open. I squeezed onto the fire escape. When I got there, Annabeth was sitting on the thin railing. If she was real, she would be in danger of falling.

"Be careful" I told her impulsively. She just pointed behind me. The flower pot that held the moonlace did contain flowers but none of them from a magical island. Roses were streaming from the pit, and were starting to weave on the walls and railing, growing thorns. I picked a red rose.

As I held it out to Annabeth, she took it with a smile. It crumbled in her fingers as she held onto it. The moonlace wasn't here.

She was gone as soon as she appeared. I brushed rose dust off my jeans and squeezed back inside. I shut the window, cutting off the New York chill.

"Percy! Come have cookies!"

Despite everything that was going on, I rushed out of my room, down the hall, and into the kitchen. A plate of blue chocolate chip cookies were waiting for me. I grabbed one and ate it instantly. Within 5 minutes, half the plate was gone. I was midway through my 7th cookie when my mom pushed the plate away.

"I have something for you. This was in your pocket during the accident. It probably doesn't mean anything to you, it looks cheap, but I kept it." She pulled a thin object from her pocket.

The pen did look cheap. I probably could get twenty of them for a dollar. But as soon as I saw it, my insides turned to ice. The pen was the exact one I had been carrying in my pocket the past five years. My trusty sword, Riptide.