Percabeth - Timeless AU

Chapter 5

ANNABETH

Suddenly the pieces fell into place. Annabeth was reminded of Kate's column. The people on board: John D. Rockefeller, Jr., Omar Bradley, Igor Sikorsky. All heading to the King's Coronation. Rockefeller was going to help form the United Nations. Bradley's crucial to planning D-Day, Sikorsky invented the helicopter. They're fundamental throughout history, weaved amongst the spine of every book she'd ever opened.

Maybe that's why Luke Castellan is saving the Hindenburg. Not to blow it on the way in, but to blow it on the way out? The damage would be tenfold if one of those people goes down, but all of them?

Annabeth voiced her concerns in a rant, Percy and Grover frowning and trying to follow along.

"Hands up!" The sheriff runs in with his own gun drawn, his deputies in tow. One of them nods to the dead body and Annabeth curses under her breath. They are so screwed.

~~~

Annabeth bites her lip to stop herself from saying something she'll regret as the Sheriff shoves them into two cells, Grover in one, Annabeth and Percy in the other.

Grover says something, inaudible to Annabeth, but she doesn't miss the way he's shoved into the cell with a rough "Shut up, boy,".

When the Sheriff leaves the room, Percy rattles the door of the cell and inspects the lock. She raises her eyebrows to ask a question but Percy shakes his head. "Would be easy with a hairpin, but I guess you don't have one of those."

She decides its better to stay quiet than make a retort.

When he begins pacing, Annabeth sighs. "We're going to rot in here," Percy starts, "while all those people die..."

"You're thinking about Kate." It's a statement, not a fact. He doesn't disagree. "What is it about her?"

He shrugs childishly. Fine. She can be childish too.

"I didn't think you were the kind of soldier to blow off orders because of a girl." Annabeth pursed her lips, just waiting for a rise out of him. It never comes.

Percy closes his eyes and mouths something almost like a prayer.

"Kate reminds me of my mom."

Oh. Oh.

She keeps quiet, knowing the conversation was more than she bargained for.

"Single mom, late husband was a soldier, she's a writer. They even look alike, a little."

Nodding, Annabeth lets him talk. It seems difficult for him to admit and Annabeth senses there's more churning emotion between the lines than in them. There's something in Percy's history that is hurt, scarred and tortured. She doesn't dare push in case he falls apart at the seams.

"My dad died on a tour when I was young. Mom is all I've had for as long as I can remember. She worked so hard. She's had at least three part time jobs on the go since I was born. She's my hero. And so to see Kate like that and for you to just... I can't just accept that she's going to die."

Annabeth nods. She could try to sympathise with him but she knows what it's like to have a rough past. No amount of 'that sounds tough' and 'I know what that feels like' will ever make it feel better. Instead, she opts to lift the mood.

"She sounds wonderful."

Percy smiles and Annabeth feels herself relax. "She is. Honestly, she makes the best cookies. They're blue and she always adds twice as many chocolate chips as it says in the recipe."

His eyes light up again, their sparkle returning.

"What the hell kinda gun is this?" A deputy enters, waving in the air.

Annabeth's gaze hardens and she glares at Percy. He softens under her 'I told you so' look.

Something must have clicked in his head because when Annabeth frowns, he winks. She could swear his eyes swept over her chest but surely not. Percy waves to get Grover's attention and asks him to create a distraction.

"Excuse me, sir?" The deputy ignored Grover. "Excuse me? Can I get a drink of water?"

The deputy turned to sneer at Grover. "Swallow your spit, boy."

Percy moves his hands in motion to get him to continue.

"I- I'm not a boy, actually." The deputy takes a step towards his cell as Grover speaks and Annabeth's heart climbs up into her mouth. "You have eyes, correct? You can tell I'm not a child, correct? And I am definitely not your son. So don't call me 'boy'."

"I'm not sure you realise where you are, boy." Is all the reply he gets.

Annabeth only met the guy a few hours ago, but she knows him enough to figure that confronting an irrelevant old deputy on his racism is not on the top of his agenda. Her heart swells with pride though, when Grover clears his throat.

"Oh, sure I do, I'm in the dam stone age. But man, I hope you live a good, long life. Long enough to watch Michael Jordan dunk. Michael Jackson dance. Mike Tyson punch. Really just any black guy named Michael! Or see who's President in 2008! That's gonna suck for you! I hope you see it all! Cause the future is not on your side, boy!"

The deputy doesn't seem too bothered by Grover's words and turns to leave the room, a thin smile creeping across his face. Grover mumbles, anxiously. As soon as the door shuts, Percy turns to Annabeth.

"Take off your bra."

Annabeth splutters. Before she has a chance to make a retort, Percy persists.

"Your modern bra."

It clicks. The underwire.

It's certainly an awkward manoeuvre. She faces the corner wall, trying to keep what remains of her dignity. Thankfully, Percy and Grover look the other way, eyes trained on the door and waiting for the deputy's return.

She whisper-shouts his name and throws the bra, one arm keeping her shirt tightly bundled around her chest. Annabeth winces as he uses his teeth to rip a hole in one side and pull out the wiring. When he throws it back to her, she allows herself a split second to grieve her bank account - this will be an expensive one to replace.

Slipping it back on is more difficult because suddenly there's a lot happening behind her. When she's finally presentable, both cell doors are unlocked, Grover is nervous bleating again and Percy just landed a brilliant shiner on the deputy's nose. She thinks the deputy is unconscious but she can't be sure, either way, she spots the baton in his hand and is grateful that the man isn't moving.

"Go, go, go." Percy calls, making a mad dash for the exit before anyone can see what they've done and lock them up all over again.