Chapter Text
Three weeks had passed since Percy had shown Annabeth there was a softer side to the hateful boy on the surface. Since then, Annabeth had only seen him in passing. She’d walk into the kitchen and he’d be fixing himself dinner, or she’d walk past his room and see a glimpse of his figure laying on his bed or playing video games on the couch.
A part of her, deep down, had hoped that Percy would open up to her. Annabeth had entertained thoughts of becoming friends with him; of having long conversations with him as she cleaned, or going on midnight walks through the estate’s gardens together.
Those were simply dreams, however. In reality, Percy avoided Annabeth at all costs and had only spoken a few words to her. It had helped Annabeth to realize this was her place of work and it wouldn’t be smart - or morally right - to fraternize with her boss’s son.
Annabeth had the estate’s layout mostly memorized, however, there were a few areas with which she was unfamiliar. One such area was a small hallway that jutted off from the west wing. It was barely large enough to fit both Annabeth and her cleaning caddy which had deterred her from venturing into it.
Despite her fear, Annabeth had told herself from the first day that she would clean the estate from top to bottom, without any exceptions. This is why she was currently midway down the hallway, the light of her phone’s flashlight clearing a path for her. She had hoped to find a light switch at the end so she could see properly but still had yet to come across one.
Annabeth was nearing the end of the hallway when her foot knocked against something solid on the floor, causing her to nearly lose her balance. Catching herself on the wall next to her, she shifted her light to the floor to reveal a small brass handle protruding from a large wooden trapdoor built into the ground.
A curious person by nature, Annabeth couldn’t help but lean down and examine the trapdoor. It couldn’t have been bigger than a couch cushion, coated in dust and rusting at the edges. Before she could stop herself, Annabeth’s hand closed around the handle and lifted. The door gave way surprisingly easily, revealing a dimly lit ladder leading down.
Annabeth hesitated for a moment, debating internally whether she should ignore it and keep cleaning, or explore the mysterious room beneath her. The ladder looked fairly new, its railings and steps lined with a soft velvet material and made of a deep mahogany that matched the rest of the estate.
She hesitantly set her foot down on the first step, pressing down gently. Annabeth was relieved to not hear a creak of any kind, just the soft crunch of the velvet beneath her shoe. She set her cleaning caddy to the side, vowing to return for it, and made her way down the stairs, tightly gripping the railing with one hand, the other holding her phone.
It took a few moments for the darkness to expand into a spacious room, lined with the same velvet as the ladder and covered floor-to-ceiling in various portraits. Some were painted, others were drawn, and the rest seemed to be taken by a very high-quality camera.
In each photo, a young man who Annabeth realized was Posideon stood next to a beautiful woman with long, brown hair and soft blue eyes. A few of the photos featured a small toddler with Posideon’s dark hair and green eyes, either being held by the woman or holding Poseidon’s hand.
Annabeth had just figured out the toddler was Percy when a loud slam resonated from behind her, causing her to jump and spin around. It took her a moment to realize the trapdoor had slammed shut. Panicking, she rushed up the ladder and pushed on the door, her heart sinking when it wouldn’t budge.
She spent the next five minutes searching for some sort of safety latch or handle on the bottom of the trapdoor, but to no avail. It seemed the door was too dated to have any sort of safety features installed. Annabeth sunk into the first rung of the ladder, defeated. She was trapped in an odd picture room, and there was nothing she could do.
***
Percy jumped in surprise as a loud slam echoed through the quiet estate, interrupting his gaming session. It was loud enough that he heard the sound through his headset. “Give me a second, Jase. Something just slammed.” Jason grimaced, familiar with the many break-in attempts made on the estate. With a property seeped in fame and old money, it was bound to happen.
“Good luck, man,” he responded as Percy slid off his headset and ventured into the hallway. “Hello?” he called, his voice deep and filled with warning. He usually wasn’t scared by these events, but he had another person’s safety to consider - Annabeth. “Annabeth?” Percy tried, searching for a flash of blonde hair or her soft, feminine voice. “Is anyone there?” Still receiving no answer, Percy searched each wing, flicking on light switches as he went.
Finally, he came upon the final area he hadn’t searched - the west wing. Percy generally avoided this wing as it contained two small hallways leading to the estate’s cellars. Poseidon had long since banned Percy from these wings and old habits die hard. Taking a deep breath, he started down the wing, stopping in his tracks when he spotted a cleaning caddy resting against the wall next to one of the small hallways.
“Annabeth?” Percy called, his heart beating faster. Suddenly, it was a very real possibility she was in danger. Gripping his phone tightly, he swiped on the flashlight and pointed it down the hallway. There was nothing. He was about to turn when his gaze caught on a small trapdoor halfway down the hallway. Percy stepped closer, shining his light directly at it.
A small ring of dust surrounded the trapdoor, and a shoeprint was barely visible right at the handle. Steeling himself, Percy reached down and lifted the handle, the door swinging open to reveal a dimly lit room. “Annabeth?” Percy called, suddenly unsure if he should make his presence known.
“Percy?” a soft voice replied, and Annabeth appeared below him, her face flushed and fear etched across her features. “Oh, thank God,” she exclaimed, looking up at where he was perched on the first step. “The door slammed shut behind me. I couldn’t get out.” Percy tried to calm his racing heart as he glanced around the room. “What is this place?”
“I don’t know,” Annabeth admitted, her voice uncertain. “Curiosity got the best of me when I was doing my rounds. Can you help me out?” Percy started to nod before he noticed the wall of photographs behind her. “Wait, what are these pictures?” Annabeth sighed, slight exasperation in her tone. “Percy, you should know better than me. You live here.”
Percy shot her a look, beginning to descend the ladder. “What are you doing?” Annabeth exclaimed, watching as he made his way down. “I have to see what this room is. I was never allowed in this wing as a kid.” Percy had just reached the last step when he saw Annabeth’s face drain of color. “Percy, the door!” she yelled, and they both watched as it slammed shut behind them.
“Hell,” Percy muttered, watching as Annabeth’s face swapped between expressions before landing on anger. He couldn’t remember a single time he’d seen Annabeth angry. Even when he watched her clean a particularly hard spot to reach - no, he didn’t stalk her, she was just mesmerizingly attractive when she was in the zone - she never showed an ounce of frustration or disdain towards her task.
“How the hell are we going to get out of here now?” Annabeth spat out, throwing her arms in the air. Percy couldn’t help but notice how cute she was when she was mad. “I don’t know,” he responded, sliding a nonchalant expression onto his face. He wasn’t about to reveal his fear of being trapped to Annabeth.
“You don’t know?” Annabeth was inches away from him now. Percy’s mind drifted back to three weeks ago when she was inches away from him, when he let himself touch her arm. Clenching his fists at his side, he steeled his expression and nodded. “I’ll just call my father.” “Already tried that, idiot,” she retorted, holding up her phone. “No cell reception.”
Percy scoffed, her words confirming themselves when he saw zero bars at the top of his phone. “Don’t call me an idiot, Beth. I’m not the one who stuck their nose into places they shouldn’t.” “Oh, stop it with the cryptic messages. I was hired to clean this estate, so I’m going to clean every damn inch of it!” Annabeth yelled, so close she was almost pressed against his chest.
“Also, don’t call me Beth.” “Or what?” Percy responded, raising an eyebrow and enjoying the sparkle of challenge in Annabeth’s eye. Who knew the quiet housekeeper was full of fire? “Or…” Annabeth began but stopped as she seemed to gauge their proximity. Percy’s eyes were trained on Annabeth’s mouth, the urge to mess up the lipgloss shimmering on her lips overpowering.
Percy was about to lean in when his gaze caught on a picture behind Annabeth, his body going still and a small gasp escaping his lips. Annabeth stepped back, turning around to see what he had reacted to. “Oh, do you know who that woman is?” Annabeth’s tone was conversational as she observed the photo before her. It was a digital photo, printed and placed in a beautiful wooden frame with ornate carvings across its surface.
Percy’s head was spinning as his eyes moved from photo to photo, the image of his mother repeating in each one. He barely registered his father or himself beside her, the memories of his complete, happy family swirling around in his head. Percy could hear his ten-year-old self laughing as he ran into the kitchen, his mom setting down a warm plate in front of him.
He could see her warm blue eyes, feel her arms around him, smell the scent of her famous cookies. Suddenly, the walls he’d spent the last four years building around his heart came crumbling down. His breath caught in his throat as tears began to fill his eyes. Before he could register what was happening, he felt his legs give out beneath him and he sank to the plush, carpeted floor.
“Percy!” a voice broke through his thoughts, a warm pair of arms wrapping around him. At first, his muddled brain couldn’t place who was holding him. Was it his mother? Poseidon? Then, he caught a scent, one so familiar yet new. A scent he smelled as he walked down the hallway, one that often accompanied the citrusy scent of her cleaning products.
The spell on him broke, and Percy found himself on his knees on the cellar’s floor, warm tears coating his cheeks and Annabeth’s arms wrapped around his waist. He buried his face into her soft, curly hair, letting the final remnants of his pain fall down his cheeks. It took a moment for his racing heart to return to normal and for his breathing to even out.
“Annabeth,” he breathed out. “I’m here, Percy. I’m here.” He pulled back enough to study her face. “Why?” he whispered, reaching out and brushing a curl out of her eyes. “Why what?” was Annabeth’s reply, biting her lip and drawing his attention to her mouth once again. “Why are you helping me? Comforting me? I’ve been nothing but an asshole to you for almost a month.”
“There’s good in you, Percy. I saw it, that night you fixed my dress strap, and I saw it earlier when you came looking for me. You care.” Reaching out, Percy wrapped his arm around Annabeth’s waist, pulling her into his lap. She let out a soft squeak of surprise before sinking into his chest and looking up at him.
“That’s all I needed to hear,” Percy whispered before capturing her lips with his. Annabeth sighed into his mouth, sliding her hands into his hair and pressing her body against his. Percy groaned, kissing her harder. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, Beth,” he whispered against her lips, the taste of her sugary lip gloss overwhelming his senses.
After a moment, Annabeth pulled back slightly, her hand coming to rest on Percy’s chest. “How long?” she whispered, her eyes wide. “Since you walked into this estate in that damn blue dress of yours.” Annabeth blushed, studying his face once again. “Who’s the woman in the photos?” Annabeth asked, her tone uncertain.
Percy smiled softly, reaching out and squeezing her hand. “My mom, Sally.” Annabeth looked up the photos, studying each one individually. “She was beautiful.” Percy glanced at her in surprise, and Annabeth gave him a shy smile. “You had a panic attack when you saw her photos and kept whispering about how you wanted to turn back time. I put the pieces together.”
Percy could feel a weight lift off of his chest as he observed no pity in Annabeth’s expression, just true understanding and compassion. “God, you’re perfect,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing Annabeth softly before pulling back. “We need to find a way out before my dad files a missing persons report,” Percy grumbled, glancing towards the trapdoor above them.
***
Twenty minutes and four broken picture frames later, Percy growled in frustration, throwing down the shattered frame of yet another picture he had attempted to use to pry the door open. Annabeth looked up from neatly arranging the photos from the frames into a pile, biting her lip in concentration. “I’m out of ideas,” she admitted, standing up and smoothing down her skirt.
Percy began to respond when the door suddenly flew open startling him so badly that he almost toppled into Annabeth standing behind him. “Dad?” Percy exclaimed, looking up at his father’s darkened figure at the top of the ladder. “Perseus, what are you doing down there? Where’s Annabeth?” “Right here, sir,” Annabeth replied, appearing at Percy’s side.
Poseidon’s eyes narrowed, glancing between the two of them before he addressed Percy. “You know not to come down here.” Percy glared at his father, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. "I’m nineteen years old, Dad. You can’t keep this from me forever.” Poseidon’s face shifted as he took in the room, his internal struggle displayed on his face.
“You’re right, Percy.” Posideon’s shoulders sank as he conceded, descending the ladder to stand in front of his son. “I’m sorry that I’ve kept this room from you. When I created it, you were too young and her death was too fresh. Since then, I’ve been scared of how you would react. You’ve become angry and spiteful, which I know is mostly my fault.”
“What do you mean?” Percy replied, his mind reeling at the revelation. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away when Sally passed. I shouldn’t have thrown myself into my work, stopped coming home for dinner, and hired nanny after nanny. There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have done.”
Percy stayed silent for a moment, studying his father. “You’re right. You messed up.” Posideon’s face fell at his words but Percy continued. “But there’s a hell of a lot of time to fix those mistakes.”
Percy reached out, pulling his father into a hug for the first time in over four years. Annabeth let out a soft gasp behind him, and Percy glanced back to see her eyes sparkling with unshed tears, a smile shining across her face.
At that moment, Percy knew everything was about to change - for the better.
***
“I will, Dad,” Percy spoke into the phone, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “I just made it back. I’ll talk to you later. Love you too.” Percy hung up the call, shifting the car into park and climbing out. The sprawling estate before him gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, its beauty never fading no matter how many years passed.
Percy pulled his suitcase out of the trunk and made his way up the front walkway, sliding his key into the door’s handle and pushing it open. The first thing he noticed was the wall of photos in the front entryway, their ornate frames shining in the light from the chandelier above.
He stepped up to the wall, his gaze landing on the photo in the dead center. It was a painting of a woman wearing a white apron, a mixing bowl perched on her side. She was holding the hand of a toddler with dark hair and mischievous green eyes, his small fingers reaching towards the bowl as the woman laughed. Percy smiled, laying a hand on the painting.
Percy registered a soft humming from the kitchen, paired with the familiar sound of a spoon against a glass bowl. He made his way into the kitchen, his heart beating in anticipation as he rounded the corner. A woman with curly blonde hair and a soft blue dress sat on the edge of the counter, a mixing bowl perched on her lap as she hummed softly to herself.
Percy watched, mesmerized, as the woman scooped batter from the bowl onto lined baking sheets, making perfect doughy circles each time. At that moment, the woman glanced up, a rosy blush spread across her cheeks as she caught sight of him leaning against the doorframe.
“You’re home,” she exclaimed, gently setting down the bowl and sliding off the counter. Percy held out his arms, wrapping them around her waist and lifting her slightly off the ground. She giggled, her arms coming to rest around his neck and her sparkling gray eyes holding his gaze. “I missed you, Perce.”
“I missed you too, Beth,” Percy’s voice was soft as he brushed a thumb across her cheek before pulling her mouth to his. A soft whimper escaped Annabeth as she melted into him, her tongue sliding across his lip and teasing open his mouth. Percy pulled back, a wicked grin crossing his face. “Careful there, Beth. Those cookies won’t end up in the oven anytime soon if you keep that up.”
Annabeth shot him a playful look, trailing a hand down his chest. “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing, Mr. Jackson,” she replied, her eyes trained on his lips. “If you say so, Mrs. Jackson,” Percy whispered before his wife’s mouth was on his and the rest is history.