PJO Oneshots

Siren Song

The last thing Annabeth remembered was the severed rope. Watching its tail trailing behind her as she sunk lower and lower. A vague wish to not be eaten. There was a song being sung, and it sounded like hopelessness in it's most melodic form. She was drowning, drowning, drowning.

And, she also remembered how she felt. An odd sense of calm overtook her in the water. As she sunk further and further into the terrible blue, she noted how reluctant she was to scream. She knew she was dying, but it was the most peaceful she'd ever felt.

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When Annabeth woke, she couldn't feel her legs. They were numb and immoble, almost as if amputated. At that thought, her eyes widened and slowly, she sat up and lay her hand against them. Instead of feeling skin, she felt scales, like that of the fish in Long Island Sound. Annabeth could feel her heart beating faster and faster as she ran her hand back and forth along her conjoined legs.

But they weren't her legs. It was a tail. Like she had seen in the children's books in her youth. It glittered golden in the light seeping in from the waves, teasing her. As she waved it back and forth in the water, she noticed how menacingly the gold sparkled. It parted the water in large gulps, almost propelling her backward off of her underwater seat.

And then something clicked in her mind, drawing the swinging spotlight of her thoughts upon itself. She was under the ocean. Breathing it.

Then suddenly, the memory came rushing back like the churning waves of the ocean she was under.

Sirens. Percy. The rope snapping. Sinking. Percy.

She was a siren now. One with the ocean. (She wasn't quite sure how she came to that conclusion, only that it barreled towards her without her permission). She would never see Percy again. She would never see camp again. Her friends would assume she was dead.

Annabeth wanted to scream.

Annabeth was not an impulsive person. Her decisions were well thought out and fuled by reason. She would not. She would assess the situation and her surroundings, and deduct the best plan of action that, if executed properly, would lead her right back to Percy. She would not scream.

All reason left her mind when she felt the water flooding her nose with her next inhale.

A loud, shrill, siren scream came from her mouth, opening her lungs to infiltrating water. The bubbles left her mouth and reached the surface, teasing her with their taste of freedom. She screamed further when she heard how much it sounded like the songs that had drawn her in initially, emptying her lungs into the water.

Another scream sounded in response, sounding more melodic like a song. It stopped as soon as it came, a whine ensuing afterwards, sounding more curious than impeding. A creature, presumably the one who had made the noise, swam next to Annabeth, tilting her head to see her more clearly.

The creature was half girl and half fish, what Annabeth presumed she was now. The girl was a siren.

The girl flung her body rapidly around a scared Annabeth, swimming in circles and observing her like a predator with their prey. Her eyes swept Annabeth rapidly, bouncing off of the features Annabeth was trying so desperately to make small. The wild girl soon deemed Annabeth unimportant, presumably because she was now her own kind.

And with a sharp intake of breath, and an involuntary twitch of her tail, Annabeth realized something. Sooner or later, she would become that girl. Feral. Animalistic.

How many girls were once like her? Drawn to the siren song, only to drown and become one? How long did it take for them to forget themselves? How long did it take them to forget their lives?

How long would it take her to forget Percy?

-

It had been three years, and she still hadn't forgotten Percy. He was the only thing she hadn't forgotten, flitting through her mind occasionally like a small fish that lost its school. She couldn't quite decipher what the memories made her feel though, seeing as they came and go quicker than she could dwell on them.

But, she was fully aware that those small thoughts were what had her swimming full speed towards Long Island Sound, her destination only vaguely known to her.

There was a snippet of memory shown to her that showcased her and Percy smiling and laughing on the sand. Her lack of a tail confused her quite frankly, and her skin was much more tan than it was now. While all those things made her stomach swirl with unease, she did not neglect to notice the water lapping the shore just inches from their feet.

She knew exactly where that water was, and where the shore lied against the sea.

She didn't know, however, if he would be there. As soon as the memory had crossed her mind, she launched towards the direction of the shore in her memory, vaguely concerned if he would be there and ignoring the twinge in her stomach that told her he wouldn't. Another part of her told her to look before she lept, but it was a quiet voice. Her own, but less impeded by music and siren song. It was her voice before her fall. She didn't like it.

-

The journey took a half a day. Somewhere in between her determination to reach her destination, and her thoughts getting more and more clouded with past memories, she began running from the reminders. Her direction attempted to become hazy, but she steeled it into a pathway to Percy. (edit).

When she was just feet from the shore, she began to feel a presence. It was walking the edge of the presences of sailors she so often felt, a deep and profound intuition of a human near. But it was deeper still. More powerful. Someone was standing stoic on the shore, waiting.

Percy.

With that sentiment came the flood of memories that took every ounce of willpower in her body not to respond to.

An unsteady breath, and she was ready. Tentatively, she gracefully bobbed her head above the water, meeting his eyes quickly. It was unceremonious, she knew. His eyes widened, and his hands came out of his sweatshirt pockets to meet his mouth. She hadn't seen those eyes in three years. Annabeth dove under, unintentionally showcasing her tail to a bewildered Percy whose eyes went wider still.