Hi! I've been working on this story for a while, and I really hope you enjoy it. Just an FYI, this is my first fanfiction.

Disclaimer: All of these characters belong to our dear Uncle Rick. :D

Annabeth

To be or not to be… that is not the question here.

I've come to terms with it. I can't relieve myself of my identity any more than Heracles could get rid of his bad luck. I can feel its presence everywhere, as if it's making sure that I can never let go of it. That I can never be truly happy. But at the same time, it's there for me at my worst, most vulnerable moments. Like when my father puts us in debt once again, or when one of my siblings gets thrown into jail, I know I can have my identity to count on.

I guess you could call me 'experienced' in my trade. I've been an assassin since I was twelve, two years after a woman who went by Fan Zhi (being American, I called her 'Fancy') found me begging for change in front of Walmart. She asked me my story, at which point I gave up on the whole stranger-danger thing, and I narrated an excessively dramatic and pitiful version of my life in hopes of some good cash. Once I finished, however, she took a nice, long stare at me and promptly left. I had contemplated calling out after her, but I decided against it, since it would make me seem even more desperate and pathetic.

The very next day, she came back and said, "A girl like you should learn how to defend yourself."

I had no idea what she meant by that, but I tagged along anyway, crossing my fingers that whatever she wanted me to do would me worth it. An hour later, we ended up shaking on a deal. For two years, she would teach me martial arts in the evenings, and in return, I would play housekeeper and caretaker for her two children when she went to work.

She didn't pay me much. Just enough to feed me and what was left of my family. But I was so grateful anyway. Martial arts lessons probably cost twice or three times what I earned on a monthly basis, so it was a loss on her part. And when she came back from work, she would feed me snacks that I hadn't had the luxury of eating in a long time. She would train me patiently but sternly, correcting every single detail regarding my form and execution. And she lost hours to spend with her family because of her dedication towards my ability to protect myself. She sacrificed so much to teach me what I now cherish with my whole heart.

Those years were easily the best of my life. But it all ended too abruptly.

I was baking cookies with her daughters when the door to the house opened. I was surprised, since it was 3 hours before Fan Zhi would normally come home. Sensing something out of the ordinary, I grabbed a kitchen knife and peeked around the corner.

It was her husband.

He stood motionless in front of me for a good minute, beholding the knife I had in my hand and followed it with his eyes as I placed it back in its holder. His daughters ran up to him, squealing with delight and asking why he was home so early, but his eyes divulged that he was not happy to see them. It was as if the sight of them caused him even more difficulty. Even more pain.

After calming his children down, he pulled me aside and firmly stated, "Fan Zhi is dead."

I was shocked, to say the least. I had never experienced loss this sudden. My own mother died of cancer, so I had known she was dying for quite some time. But for someone so alive, so healthy, to be gone within the span of a few hours? Unfathomable.

Through her husband, I learned that Fan Zhi was a lawyer, a very good one, who had been coerced into defending a man many people did not want defended. Unfortunately, one of those people had enough power, influence and lack of a conscience to force her into a car accident. One that ended up taking her life.

About a month after the incident, I accompanied the kids and their father to the airport. They were leaving for China, to return to their ancestral home and live with their family. They had nothing left for them here, and I understood. But saying goodbye to them that day was one of the worst moments of my life.

For two years, I had accepted food, shelter, and self-defense lessons, but I had also begun to accept a new family. I had become very close with Jenny and Daisy, who were like my little sisters. And Fan Zhi had been a mother figure for me, something I had been missing for a long, long time. Even her husband had been kind and compassionate, though he wasn't very social towards me. The past two years had given me not even a second home, but a first home. It was my only home. And it was a home that I was slowly losing, as I watched it go through check-in and disappear past the corner to reach security. I guess home is never a permanent thing.

The following months were full of misery. My father had just recently gone from drinking to betting and wasting money in casinos. My brothers still went to school, but quitting would have been a better choice for them, considering how often they skipped school to terrorize families in the nearby plaza. And I was still hurting from my loss, so naturally, I wasn't thinking straight. Yet it's funny how the most life-changing choice I've ever made happened when I wasn't thinking.

It happened after I had just returned from a bout of begging in front of the same Walmart as a couple years ago. I opened the door to my family's shack only to find a grown man in a business suit staring at me. He looked as if he were in his early twenties, with a mustache and stubble on his cheeks. His dark, rectangular glasses drooped beneath the bridge of his nose, as if he were an old lady instead of a businessman. He looked somber, as if his pet had died, and he was about to ask me to bury it.

Naturally, I was very confused, so he pulled me inside and told me he needed to talk to me. He was much too tall to stand straight under our six foot tall ceiling, but he insisted in staying inside anyway. And so we did. Sometimes I wish we hadn't, but I know that if I had taken an alternate option, my life would have been at least a hundred times worse than it is now.

He went straight to the point. "I was a friend of Fan Zhi's and I have a proposition for you."

And immediately, I was game. Any friend of Fan Zhi's was a friend of mine. I owed my life to her, so I could, at the very least, listen to what her friend had to say.

He went on. "She told me that she trained you in martial arts, and I have a need for someone of that skill set right now. I know you're probably going to hate me for this, but please. Just think about it. I can pay you more than you can ever imagine."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "How about you tell me what it is before you apologize for it?"

He sighed, "I...I want you to kill someone for me."

I gasped. That was not what I was expecting, in the least. I was thinking he would ask me to train him or his kids, or even shove me into some random martial arts TV show that would make me look like an idiot. But kill someone? That was crossing the line.

Was this how Fan Zhi died? Did some random, rational-looking guy just walk up to a financially struggling person who was good at defending himself and bribe him into killing a bold, compassionate, and purely innocent woman? Did this man, standing idiotically in front of me, even consider the fact that the person he wanted killed might have been another Fan Zhi? Another sweet, innocent soul with a loving family and a promising career?

So I turned away. "If you were Fan Zhi's friend, you wouldn't be asking me to do this."

He grabbed my arm, but I slipped out of his grasp and shoved him away. "Don't ever touch me again. Now get out of my house."

But he had a desperate look in his eyes. "You don't understand. The reason I'm asking you to do this is because I'm Fan Zhi's friend."

That caught my attention. "What do you mean?"

He planted his feet firmly into the ground and stared me down, something that very few people dared to do. "The man I want you to kill is the man who took her life."

This is the part where you, the reader, start protesting loudly and calling me a complete idiot for succumbing to the desire for vengeance and being irrational. Remember how I told you I wasn't thinking?

So I did it. I studied how to use a gun. I practiced every day at the nearest shooting range, donning the disguise of a woman 10 years older than I actually was. Within a couple months, both the man and I thought I was ready. He told me that he had hired another man to lure him into an isolated warehouse, and all I had to do was shoot him. So I did it.

I thought I would feel some sort of relief after I had done the job. As if a weight had been lifted off my shoulder. I was wrong. It did satisfy me, knowing that the man had been served justice. The money that I got from doing the job (which was a lot, by the way), did improve my family's state, and let us buy an actual couch, which also made me slightly happier. But I felt nothing else. The grief I felt for Fan Zhi and her family did not fade. The anger for her death that was coursing through my veins did not dissipate. The kill did nothing to ease my mental pain.

Shortly after the job was done, the man returned. He said that he was impressed at how cleanly I completed the task, and that I had a promising future ahead of me. He gifted me a knife as a reward. He also told me his name. Luke.

Luke helped me kickstart my career as an assassin. He referred me to his powerful businessman friends, and he helped me figure out which offers I should take and which were too risky, or not worth it. He is now one of the few people whom I can trust with my life.

But one thing I should tell you, now that you've judged me to be the worst person you've ever known, is that I always make sure my kills are justified. I have never failed to determine who my client really is, and why they want a certain person killed. In honor of Fan Zhi and my own moral conscience, I make sure I know the truth behind all of the people I get involved with. I have never, in my life, killed somebody who has not killed another. So, long story short, I'm not a complete crazy.

Percy

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again - that basically defines my life, whether I want it to or not.

My mother had me young, with her high school sweetheart who promptly left around a year after I was born. She, the angel that she is, raised me all alone from then until I was about 15, and trust me, I was not easy to handle. Then, she got engaged to a man named Paul Blofis (I personally approve - his last name sounds like blowfish). But basically, she's awesome, and I love her to death.

About the me not being easy to handle, I'm not exaggerating. Up until high school, I never attended the same school for more than a year, and it was always because of some stupid accident that was only 40% my fault. Like, for example, that time in elementary school when I accidentally blew up my school bus on a field trip? An accident with a Revolutionary War cannon, which, to be honest, shouldn't have even been loaded. Also, it's not like I wanted to destroy that bus. It was my only way home. But even though I really didn't do much, I got expelled anyway. I tried to be better the next year, but that majorly failed. Let's just say that it was my first time swimming with sharks.

But I kept trying.

My life was pretty much filled with those kind of accidents. And some on-purposes. But mostly accidents. I was an incredibly hyperactive kid, especially considering I have ADHD. And not only that, but I have dyslexia too, meaning I absolutely sucked at school. My best subject was PE, by far. I was also bullied pretty often. Much of what I know about self-defense was learned through those torturous years of getting beaten up for no reason at all. The highlight of the first half of my life was me finding my best friend, Grover, who's stood by me through every high and low point of my life. I can only hope he feels the same way about me.

Eventually, my life settled. Starting sophomore year, I managed to not get expelled, and I actually started doing better at school. My grades started improving significantly, with my GPA consistently above 3.0. I joined the swim team and was one of the toppers throughout my high school career.

I also got some version of a social life. I dated this girl named Calypso for a bit before I got a serious girlfriend, Rachel. Unfortunately, she broke up with me at the end of junior year, because she realized she didn't like me more than a really good friend. I guess the feeling was mutual? But I was still bummed out when that happened. I also got a larger, more solid friend group, and I still keep in contact with some of them to this day. Basically, I peaked in high school.

Many would probably disagree with me on that point, though. I mean, you're currently reading the story of Perseus Jackson, age 28, known for founding a company that's sweeping the world with its mission to protect aquatic animals from harmful human activities and other factors that threatens their existence.

I created Thalassa at 24, having just earned my masters in marine biology. It was a difficult project, to say the least. But I was determined to make it work. I kept trying.

And now I'm so happy with how much it's grown. I feel like a proud father. We work closely with the EPA and hold fundraisers all over the world, including the annual Triton gala, which has just begun to attract all of the biggest celebrities. We've raised an unfathomable amount of money, and we've used it to organize animal rescue operations, cleanup events, and educational presentations throughout schools across the country. Recently, I opened up a branch of our company which focuses on creating tech that will eliminate water pollution and improve our aquatic environments in various ways.

But I have this sinking feeling that Thalassa isn't heading in the right direction. It seems more like a publicity stunt than an organization that's actually making a difference in the oceans. Especially considering how much more the tabloids talk about 'my hotness' than our actual mission. I feel like, the more Thalassa grows, the less control I have over what it does. I have to factor in more people's opinions, deal with more people's arguments, and come up with one path to benefit us all. Half the time, my choice is opposed by over half the company, oftentimes for their own selfish reasons. I wish life didn't work that way.

So there I was, yesterday, at a bar, wishing that things would just magically happen for the better, instead of me repeatedly having to work my butt off to come up with some great idea or solution that I never would get acknowledged for.

I don't normally go drinking. But just this once, I needed to calm myself. I needed to feel like I wasn't carrying the weight of the sky.

I plopped myself down into the barstool, pulling my hat down low so the bartender wouldn't recognize me. "A beer, please."

He nodded and grinned at me. "Rough day?"

I shook my head. "Beyond what you could imagine."

He poured my drink and set it in front of me with a flourish. "Don't worry. Things have a way of working themselves out for the better. Just be patient."

I glanced at his nametag and smiled back at him. "I really wish that were true. Have a good day, Jeff." Then, I picked up my glass and migrated to a corner of the room, so I wouldn't have to socialize with anyone. I'm not normally like this, but last night, I just wasn't in the mood.

At least, not until I had downed my second drink, and saw a beautiful blonde walk through the door with a pocket knife shoved into her back pocket. I literally could not stop staring as she ordered her drink, and took a long, observant look around the room. Her bluish-colored eyes had a calculating look about them, as if she was searching for trouble and couldn't wait to find it. Her wavy, golden hair was pulled back into a high ponytail which barely grazed the top of her spine. And...damn. She wasn't insanely skinny like those models that you see on TV, but it's not like she was fat either. She was toned and muscular and rounded in just the right places. And somehow, just like that, I wanted more.

It wasn't often that I felt that way. Correction: I had never felt that way. Yeah, being a young guy, I've had attractions and stuff that really meant nothing except for the fact that I had hormones. But that night, just the sight of her made my skin feel like it was on fire and yet freezing cold. I felt a need beyond anything I had ever felt before. It literally put my heart on overdrive, it was beating so fast.

At some point in her analysis of her surroundings, she saw me. And she started walking towards me, and I felt like a teenager again. The 13 year-old girl inside me was squealing away, and my legs shook at a faster rate with every step she took towards me. That was when I realized, her eyes weren't blue. They were grey. Grey like the storm clouds that blocked out the sun, yet at the same time provided the rain that would sprout new life and let the plants grow to their full potential. Woah. That sounded like poetry. What was wrong with me?

The moment she seated herself beside me, I folded my hands over my lap, just in case my body decided to betray me. Nervously, I croaked, "Hey."

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and smirked, which naturally made my cheeks burst into flames. "Hello, Perseus Jackson."

I freaked and pulled my hat down to cover my eyes. If she could recognize me, then there was a high chance that someone else in the bar had too. And if they had, then they probably called the paparazzi on me. Meaning I had to sneak out asap and most likely take the long, windy backroad home.

She chuckled in her smooth, silky voice that my made my hairs stand on end. "Don't worry, Perseus. Nobody else here knows who you are. Otherwise, you would have known long ago."

I gulped, and in the most confident, lighthearted tone I could manage, I stated, "I go by Percy."

The smirk on her lips relaxed into a smile. "And I go by Annabeth. Nice to meet you."

Before I could come up with some smooth line that would make her blush instead of the other way around, Jeff the bartender called out to her to give her the drink she ordered. Obligingly, she got up from her chair and walked towards the counter. I contemplated following her, but I thought it would make me seem like some tame puppy, so I decided against it. Maybe I should have just done it. That would have prevented what happened afterward, and probably would have given me more time to talk to my mysterious Annabeth.

It was your typical old, drunk guy grabs a girl's butt and almost gets killed story. I didn't think she would actually try to use her pocket knife. But she held it to the guy's throat like it was nobody's business and shoved him away.

Jeff the bartender promptly yelled at her to get out, since there were no weapons or violence allowed in the bar. So she angrily stomped out, and me, being the enamored guy that I was, paid for both of our drinks and rushed after her. Before I could leave, Jeff called out after me, "She's trouble, son. It's best you stay away from her."

I just threw an awkward grin in his direction and slipped out the door. She may have be trouble, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Wasn't it?

So I caught up to her and said, "Well, that guy was an idiot."

She glared at me, making me think that I never wanted her to look at me like that again. "Well, so are you."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

She scoffed, "Following a girl is creepy on so many levels."

I stopped in my tracks. "Oh. I just thought…"

She swiveled around and stared straight at me. Her eyes were filled with thunder. "Thought what? That I wanted your company? That I sat next to you because I so desperately wanted to talk to you, Mr. Famous Guy? Not because you were the only rational-looking guy in the whole club?"

"I'm sorry. I..."

She turned back around and stomped away. "Sniveling, stupid little male blockhead."

Thankfully, those 2 drinks weren't enough to push me out of a rational state of mind. Needless to say, I didn't follow her anymore.