Percy Jackson One Shots And Crossovers

Thanks For The Memories

This is for kaetlynzjk. Hope you like it (though I may have gotten a bit carried away), but I really liked your request, and this is the first one I actually finished on the same day as it was requested.
_

Percy Jackson had thought about death a lot (how could he not, with the life he was leading) and had long since come to terms with the fact that he would probably never reach old age and die peacefully (though the gray hair would still come soon enough, thanks for that, stress).

Don't get him wrong, he didn't want do die, he would very much appreciate staying alive, mind you. Especially now that things had finally quieted down. He was in his late twenties, there had been no large-scale battles since the Queen Dirt-face fiasco, no new wars or should-we-kill-Percy-Jasckson votings (he hoped, you could never be sure with Zeus and his temper).

Things were good. He and Annabeth had settled down, a small house near long Island Beach, close to Camp Half-blood, but still far enough away to lead an independent life.

From time to time, young demigods would come knocking, scared, confused and in desperate need of help. Their home had become a beacon of safety for half-bloods, a place where children knew no harm would come to them, and that Percy and Annabeth would get them safely to camp.

The shadow of the past, of war and loss and pain would always linger in the back of their minds, but they learned to deal with the terrors of their childhood. They would never stop mourning their friends (the latest was Jason, the message of his death had hit them both hard, causing them to return to camp for a few month), but the couple (married for a few years now) was keeping close contact with the friends they still had, the people they loved.

Both heroes had started a life together, with a house with a white picket fence and two small children.

The boys, twins, had Percy's sense for mischief and Annabeth's calculating eyes. The smaller one of the two, Luke (the name was Percy's idea, Annabeth had been touched to tears, a grateful smile playing on her lips) had his jet black hair, through it was curly like Annabeth's. His eyes were a dull green, beautiful and perfect.

Their other child, Jason, (when they'd asked Piper to be his godmother, she had showered them with hugs for months), had lighter hair, the brown curls fitting perfectly with the blue-ish/grey-ish colour of his eyes.

Their life wasn't ideal (with the occasional monster attacks and all), but it was good, everything Percy'd ever wanted.

So of course, in true Percy Jackson fashion, things had to go downhill like a baby on a roller coaster.

Until today, Percy and Annabeth still had no idea how the fire had started, if it was accidental or if someone had actively tried to kill them.

(And succeeded, for that matter)

But in the end, it didn't really matter anyway.
Their house had burned like a sea of gasoline shot with a laser beam. (Heh, that rhythms)

It had been in the middle of the night, so the smell of smoke had woken them far too late. A falling beam from the ceiling had pinned Percy beneath it, the heat too great to concentrate on using his powers (not to mention the shock of being buried under a very heavy, burning piece of wood).

Annabeth had taken the children outside, before coming back in to help him. It had been useless, the ceiling carving in, burying the couple beneath layers of stone, grime and wood.