Percy Jackson Series. Annabeth Chase X Male Reader Story

We Get a Free Makeover

Percy's POV

I woke up in a rowboat with a makeshift sail stitched of grey uniform fabric. Annabeth sat next to me, tacking into the wind. I tried to sit up and immediately felt woozy. "Rest," she said. "You're going to need it."

"Tyson ...?" She shook her head. "Percy, I'm really sorry." We were silent while the waves tossed us up and down. "He may have survived," she said half-heartedly. "I mean, fire can't kill him." I nodded, but I had no reason to feel hopeful.

I'd seen that explosion rip through solid iron. If Tyson had been down in the boiler room, there was no way he could've lived. He'd given his life for us, and all I could think about were the times I'd felt embarrassed by him and had denied that the two of us were related.

Waves lapped at the boat. Annabeth showed me some things she'd salvaged from the wreckage – Hermes's Flask which was now empty, an airtight bag full of ambrosia, a couple of sailors' shirts and a bottle of Dr Pepper.

She'd fished me out of the water and found my knapsack, torn in half by shrapnel. Most of my stuff had floated away, but I still had Hermes's bottle of multivitamins, and of course I had Riptide.

"Where's (Y/N)?" I asked as I nursed my headache, but the last thing I remembered was him being snatched by Scylla's teeth, Annabeth just stuck to rationing our resources. "He's gone..." She said softly.

We sailed for hours. Now that we were in the Sea of Monsters, the water glittered a more brilliant green, like Hydra acid. The wind smelled fresh and salty, but it carried a strange metallic scent, too – as if a thunderstorm were coming. Or something even more dangerous.

I knew what direction we needed to go. I knew we were exactly one hundred and thirteen nautical miles west by northwest of our destination. But that didn't make me feel any less lost. No matter which way we turned, the sun seemed to shine straight into my eyes.

Clarisse had apparently been in the other lifeboat when the wind from the flask went off, she had been pulling it down at the time, we don't know what happened to her after that.

We took turns sipping from the Dr Pepper, shading ourselves with the sail as best we could. And we talked about my latest dream of Grover. By Annabeth's estimate, we had less than twenty-four hours to find Grover, assuming my dream was accurate, and assuming the Cyclops Polyphemus didn't change his mind and try to marry Grover earlier.

"Yeah," I said bitterly. "You can never trust a Cyclops." Annabeth stared across the water. "I'm sorry, Percy. I was wrong about Tyson, okay? I wish I could tell him that." I tried to stay mad at her, but it wasn't easy. Our salvation came half an hour later.

Annabeth looked startled as the bird dropped a small cluster of leaves into her lap. "Land," she said. "There's land nearby!" I sat up. Sure enough, there was a line of blue and brown in the distance.

Another minute and I could make out an island with a small mountain in the centre, a dazzling white collection of buildings, a beach dotted with palm trees and a harbour filled with a strange assortment of boats. The current was pulling our rowboat towards what looked like a tropical paradise.

"Welcome!" said the lady with a clipboard. She looked like a flight attendant – blue business suit, perfect makeup, hair pulled back in a ponytail. She shook our hands as we stepped onto the dock.

Then again, our rowboat wasn't the weirdest ship in port. Along with a bunch of pleasure yachts, there was a U.S. Navy submarine, several dugout canoes and an old-fashioned three-masted sailing ship.

There was a helipad with a 'Channel Five Fort Lauderdale' helicopter on it, and a short runway with a Learjet and a propeller plane that looked like a World War II fighter. Maybe they were replicas for tourists to look at or something.