Ink and Bruises (Heroes of Olympus Soulmates AU)

Annabeth

I roll over and stifle a groan. My entire body hurts. The beating from last night was a bad one. I wonder what so called crime Seaweed Brain committed to warrant such a beating. I hope he's ok. I sit up a sharp pain shooting through my ribs and I wince. It's not broken I don't think, just fractured. Ok, that's still kind of broken.

Oh well.

As I throw the blankets off myself I spot a flash of blue on my left wrist. My heart leaps joyfully for a second until I read the message,.

"I'm sorry." Written in blue ink like all the messages I get from him are. I sigh and grab the nearest pen to me, a purple gel pen. 

"It's not your fault don't be sorry" I scrawl underneath it. It really isn't his fault he gets beat, it's not his fault I feel every blow just as much as he does. I wish he would stop blaming himself.

I hardly ever get messages from my soulmate. If not for the daily beating and bruises that appeared I would have thought I didn't have one. But about a month ago he started writing and it's getting more and more frequent. I've found out a bit about him. The man who beats him is his stepfather Gabe. Gabe also forbade him from writing to me so he has to always wash the messages off and keep it hidden otherwise he'll be in big trouble. He's very loyal to his friends and I know he hates that I get hurt from Gabe because of him. He feels like it's his fault and I can't change his mind no matter how hard I try. He loves his mom and tries to hide that Gabe beats him because he doesn't want her to see him hurt.

I call him Seaweed Brain. He calls me his Wise Girl. I can't wait to find him. I haven't even met him yet and he's already one of the most important people in my life.

I walk to my dresser and grab clothes. I lift my shirt over my head and examine the bruises scattered all over my arms and torso. New ones on top of the old, coloured blue, purple, black, green and yellow like some sort of gristly painting. I pull on a long sleeved blue shirt and jeans and go down stairs to make breakfast and get my baby brothers ready for school. 

I pack three lunches, swallow a granola bar and make myself a cup of coffee. Then I tiptoe upstairs to wake up my twin baby brothers. Matthew and Bobby are seven years old and are in grade one. Depending on the day they love school or hate it. There is no in between. I'm hoping they'll be happy to wake up this morning, they should be, I put them to bed at a reasonable time last night. I walk over to Bobby's bed and kiss his forehead. 

"Good morning Bobby!" I say cheerfully. He opens his blue eyes and gives me a huge grin. 

"'Morning Annie!" He chirps. He hops out of bed and runs to his closet to pick out his clothes. I move to Mathew's bed but before I can wake him up he sits up and gives me a big hug. I hug him back laughing.

 "Hey monkey, how long have you been awake?" I ask as I toss him his clothes. Bobby likes to pick out his own clothes but Matthew doesn't.

 "Since you said goodmorning to Bobby!" He says as he sits up. 

"Alright you two," I say as I flick on the light and leave the room "get dressed and come down for breakfast."

I love my brothers.

I pour Bobby and Matthew each a bowl of Cheerios and I'm still hungry so I make myself a piece of toast with peanut butter. When they're half done their breakfast and I'm packing my bag I hear footsteps on the stairs. An aura of evil surrounds her, waves of hatred fill the room, Bobby and Matthew's lively chatter dies down to near silence as the step monster reaches the bottom of the staircase. She immediately comes into the kitchen and pours herself the rest of the coffee I made for myself. Then the lecturing/scolding starts. No matter what I do it's never enough for her. I try to be perfect because that's what she expects me to be. She's told me time and time again I'm the only thing that ruins the image of the perfect family she's trying to maintain, the only way i'll ever be good enough is if I live up to her every expectation. Something I never seem to be able to do. Not that I really mind. Sure, I hate Helen but I love the twins and they love me. I have my dad to when he's off of work, which he hardly ever is. Oh, well. I check the clock, if I'm going to get the boys to school and get myself to my first class I have to get going but Helen's scolding has progressed to yelling which is a red flag. It's usually a worse day than usual when Helen starts yelling.