Hello readers!

I decided to add to this story. I had some free time and really wanted to try out the character of Annabeth and her feelings during that time. I hope I did her justice. I'm thinking about added another chapter, because I definitely left you with a cliffhanger (Sorry!) Let me know in the reviews if you would like me to add on to this story! I'm thinking ten reviews will get me typing J

This was done pretty fast and I don't think it's my best work so I highly encourage you guys to read through and leave me your thoughts! I'd love to hear about ways I could improve my writing.

All rights go to rick!

Enjoy!

Because of You

It was 1 o'clock in the morning when Annabeth Chase came to the conclusion that she was developing another ulcer. Of course, due to lack of sleep, stress and the core contents of her stomach being caffeine and the occasional stack of saltines she wasn't too surprised. She knew she should be sleeping right now; her day was suppose to start in four and a half hours for God's sake, but, like most nights, she couldn't put down her pencil.

Annabeth was just a mere hour away from finishing the outline for the second floor of the Argo II, and she wasn't about to quit now. Plus, there were maps of California to scour over, battle plans to create; sleeping wasn't going to progress any of those projects so why do it? Sleeping meant lying in bed and lying in bed meant having time to think. If she allowed her hands to stop writing and her mind to stop calculating the real emotions buried deep inside her mind would start to crawl out until they would wind their hands around her throat and squeeze until she couldn't breathe; and that wasn't something on her list of things to do today, thank you very much.

When Annabeth really thought about it, the early hours of the morning were her favorite part of the day. No one except a small group of demi-gods were awake; and the group that wasn't slumbering were at Bunker 9 working on the Argo II. She was never bothered at this hour, which she quite enjoyed. And it was finally quiet; with only the soft lulling whispers of the ocean and the scratch of her pencils.

And of course, that's what she told everyone when he or she questioned her moving out of Cabin 6 and into Cabin 3. Though she was well aware, from her half-siblings sympathetic smiles and eyes clouded in pity, that they had all guessed her real reasons for moving here. But she always got the necessary plans done early and didn't disturb anyone with her late hours so they kept their mouth shut.

She did like it here too. The waves helped clear her head at night, and when she needed a moment to sit down and breath without the prying eyes of her fellow Cabin Leaders, the warm private beach outside accommodated her just fine. The sweat smell of salt reminded her of memories she held close to her heart. And sometimes, if she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the ghost of a hand gently caressing her cheek.

But then, of course, she would open her eyes and realize she was alone in the Posiden cabin; and the ghost of Percy Jackson would dissipate into the air as quickly as it had came.

She began to write faster, forcing the tiny suffocating hands of those, now painful, memories back into her head. Annabeth gasped and sat back into her chair, clutching her throat as if she could swat the little monsters away.

A dozen memories forced their ways through to cracks that were suppose to resemble the wall she built to force them away. His wind-swept hair that was soft to the touch. His bleary eyes, thick with sleep when she came to wake him up in the morning. His smirk when he made a smartass comment, the way his eyes would twinkle at her when they met hers during some cheesy movie they wasted ten dollars on. The way his arms felt against her torso, the way his lips molded to hers and felt scalding hot against her neck. They way his bare skin would feel against hers.

She pressed a shaky hand to her sweat-ridden forehead and tried to calm her erratic heart. Annabeth hastily swiped under her eyes, smearing the wet tears she would find there. She winced as her palms made contact with the greasy mass that was suppose to resemble her hair.

Geez, when was the last time I washed my hair?

She couldn't remember.

Her skin felt itchy and hot; she could still feel his arms around her, the way he would hold her. And she couldn't handle that, not tonight, no not tonight. She stood up, the chair squealing as it was pushed abruptly backwards.

Her heavy feet led her to the bathroom; her legs scrambling over stray pencils and crumpled up balls of paper. Once Annabeth reached the bathroom she promptly shut the door; the noise sounding almost eerie in the otherwise quiet atmosphere. She leaned against the doorway and tried to catch her breath.

Calm down, Wise Girl. I can practically see the gray hairs popping up.

Annabeth cringed at the achingly familiar sound of his voice. She couldn't believe that after all this time, even being a thousand miles away or wherever the hell he actually was, his voice still had the same affect on her. Like it was Percy standing next to her, not her overzealous imagination that loved to pick at her heart strings. She hated, hated, hated it. Mostly, because Annabeth wasn't a touchy-feely kind of girl. She would much rather settle an argument with weapons than words. She loved Percy because he knew that about her and even liked that about her. But now it was Percy himself that was making her feel all these emotions at once and she hated him for it. Even when she knew there were higher powers-godly powers that were behind his disappearance he was still a seaweed brain for getting his but dragged into this regardless. She hated how much she needed him. She hated how naked and hopeless she felt without him.

Annabeth turned the shower on shakily; thankful for the noise that drowned out her hysteric breaths. She slowly peeled the clothes off her body and stepped into the falling water. The daughter of Athena let the warm water uncoil the tight muscles in her back. She pretended the sobs that wracked her body weren't hers and that the hot tears dripping down her cheeks were from the showerhead. She scrubbed her skin until it was bright red and aching. However, no matter how many times she lathered her curls in conditioner the snarls wouldn't untangle. Giving up, she turned the water off and pressed her face into a puffy blue towel. She shook out her hair and wrapped the towel around herself. Taking a deep breath, she used her had to smear away the steam the hugged the mirror and looked at herself curiously.

Her cheekbones looked sharp in contrast to her now thin face. Dark circles surrounded her eyes and her collarbone poked out of her chest. She was aware of the weight she lost, but it still surprised her to see the effects of her malnourishment.

Annabeth slipped a Goode High Swim Team T-shirt over her thin frame and slipped into some boyshorts. Still towel-drying her hair, she slipped out of the bathroom.

Something was different. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the atmosphere had been changed. Her frail chair was tucked back in underneath the desk and the pencils that had rolled off the table were now snuggly beside the unfinished blueprint.

"Your hair looks like Medusa's…but I like it."

Percy.

Sorry for the cliffy! Again, I would love to add another chapter, but would really like to get your guy's feedback on this chapter.

Did I do Annabeth's character justice? What can I improve upon? Any requests for other chapters?

Please let me know! 10 reviews will get me typing J That would be the goal!

Thanks so much for reading!