𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 (Annabeth X Malereader)

[10] Fatal flaws

Percy was happy.

Really happy.

He'd finally found something he was good at. The Queen Anne's Revenge responded to his every command. Which ropes to hoist, which sails to raise, which direction to steer, he knew it all. Annabeth tried to be a look out, but sailing didn't really work with her, and after almost throwing up she decided to lay down in a hammock. Which Y/N didn't mind. He and Percy could have some quality bro time.

Sometime after midnight, they came up on a volcano. The shore around it bubbled and steamed from the lava. "One of the forges of Hephaestus," Y/N said. "Where he makes his metal monsters."

"Like the bronze bulls?" Percy questioned.

Y/N nodded. "Go around. Far around."

They steered clear of the island, and soon it was just a red patch of haze behind them. Y/N sat down, leaning against the mast.

"Some lettuce for your thoughts?" Y/N said, raising an eyebrow.

"Lettuce? Where?" Percy whipped his head around. Y/N burst out laughing. Percy blushed furiously. "Shaddup." 

"Looks like you're still a bit of a Guinea pig, huh?" Y/N teased. Percy groaned.

"Tell me about it. I've never wanted to eat vegetables as much as I do now."

"You would have made a good pet, I'm sure." Y/N chuckled. Percy raised an eyebrow.

"And you would have made a good slave." Y/N cringed, rubbing his temple.

"Don't remind me." He sighed. "It felt like someone pulled out my brain, spat on it, then stuck it in a washing machine."

"I think you would have become Circe's personal washing machine." Percy laughed.

"I would have liked to see that." A voice said behind them. Annabeth stumbled up the steps, her face still a faint shade of green. Y/N got to his feet.

"Annabeth, you're still seasick." Y/N chided. "Go lay down for a little longer."

"What are you? My dad?" She gritted her teeth, steadying herself on the mast. She sighed, before sitting down, her back against the mast. Y/N frowned, before sitting next to her.

"Soooo..." Percy began. Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "The reason you hate Cyclopes so much... the story about how Thalia really died. What happened?"

Her expression darkened, or maybe it was because it was already dark. "I guess you deserve to know," she said finally. "The night Grover was escorting us to camp, he got confused, took some wrong turns. You remember he told you that once?" Percy nodded. "Well, the worst wrong turn was into a Cyclops's lair in Brooklyn."

"They've got Cyclopes in Brooklyn?" Y/N asked.

"You wouldn't believe how many, but that's not the point." Annabeth sighed. "This Cyclops, he tricked us. He managed to split us up inside this maze of corridors in an old house in Flatbush. And he could sound like anyone, Percy. Just the way Tyson did aboard the Princess Andromeda. He lured us, one at a time. Thalia thought she was running to save Luke. Luke thought he heard me scream for help. And me... I was alone in the dark. I was seven years old. I couldn't even find the exit."

She brushed the hair out of her face. "I remember finding the main room. There were bones all over the floor. And there were Thalia and Luke and Grover, tied up and gagged, hanging from the ceiling like smoked hams. The Cyclops was starting a fire in the middle of the floor. I drew my knife, but he heard me. He turned and smiled. He spoke, and somehow he knew my dad's voice. I guess he just plucked it out of my mind. He said, 'Now, Annabeth, don't you worry. I love you. You can stay here with me. You can stay forever.'"