Percy Jackson and the Child of Victory (Annabeth Chase x Reader)

The Prophecy Comes True

 It's funny how humans can wrap their minds around things and fit them into their version of reality. Chiron had told me that long ago. As usual, I didn't appreciate his wisdom until much later. According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.

This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted me and three other adolescents in New York and brought us across the country on a ten-day odyssey of terror.

Poor little Percy Jackson and Y/N L/N weren't international criminals after all. we'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor and afterwards, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus ("Why didn't I remember him before?").

The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. After all, no kid could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, got a friend to take a photo, and notified the police. Finally, brave Percy Jackson stole a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach, and Y/N L/N punched the captor before the Police arrived. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled.

No fatalities had occurred. Percy Jackson, Y/N L/N and their two friends were safely in police custody. The reporters fed us this whole story. We just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't hard), and played victimised kids for the cameras.

The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for three tickets on the next plane to New York. I knew there was no choice but to fly. I hoped Zeus would cut us some slack, considering the circumstances. But it was still hard to force myself on board the flight.

Takeoff was a nightmare. Every spot of turbulence was scarier than a Greek monster. I didn't unclench my hands from the armrests or stretch my wings until we touched down safely at La Guardia. The local press was waiting for us outside security, but we managed to evade them thanks to Annie, who lured them away in her invisible Yankees cap, shouting, "They're over by the frozen yogurt! Come on!" then rejoined us at baggage claim.

We split up at the taxi stand. Percy told Annie, Grover and Me to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened. we protested, but I knew he had to do this last part of the quest by himself.

On the way home I explained everything that happened to me after they left the underworld, Kratos, The gifts, Everything.

-Timeskip-

We were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated us as if we'd won some reality TV contest. According to camp tradition, we wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honour, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where we got to burn the burial shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful—grey silk with embroidered owls—I told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched me and told me to shut up as she laughed with red cheeks.

Being the son of Poseidon, Percy didn't have any cabin mates, Neither did I, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make Percy's shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER was painted big in the middle. I almost used my new strength to punch them for that, but Grover held me back.

The Aphrodite kids offered to make mine, It was pink (Not that I cared) and then sewed numbers into the outline of it and made holes in it for my wings. The Aphrodite kids dotted over my wings and my new muscles and giggled at anything I said, Eventually, Annie pulled me away from them with an angry face.