A/N: Yes, it's finals week. Yes, I should be studying. And yet, I decided to write this instead. Funny how that works.

First Birthday

Frederick is unused to being a father. His daughter, Annabeth, is perched on his knee. A friend of his said that if you bob a child up and down on your leg, it calms them down. And yet, she continues to wail. She does that sometimes, and Frederick still hasn't learned how to make her stop.

He didn't want to be a father. Not now, anyway. Not ever, unless he found someone that would make it worth it. He had, in a way, but she had gone and had left a bawling baby in her place. Irony of ironies, and Frederick wondered if he should reexamine his principals.

"What's today, Annabeth?" Frederick asks the child, gently pulling her wisps of hair from her face. He talks to her sometimes, when things get too quiet. In this case, he is referring to the date, as he has a meeting with a pilot on the eighteenth.

Times and dates always manage to escape his memory. It's one of the reasons he isn't meant to be a parent, scheduling is one of his more pronounced weakness. A quick glance to the wall's calendar, and his mouth opens slightly. Oops. It's the third. Not only is he off by several weeks (a sure marker that he's slowly losing his mind), but it is also the anniversary of Annabeth's birth. At least, it is the day he received her.

"Happy Birthday, Annabeth," he whispers, pulling her closer to him. She's stopped screaming now, and is softly hiccupping as most one-year-old's do.

He never tells her about the incident, even once they grow closer. What she doesn't know won't hurt her.

First Safety

She's been scared many times. Monsters, monsters everywhere. Some kids talk about having them under the bed, but she has them in the closet and the yard too. She can't hide anywhere: not at home, not at school, not anywhere in the world.

Or so she thinks. Home is the worst though, because she feels as if no one is protecting her. Her father, he doesn't want her. It doesn't even take someone of her intelligence to realize that much. She's never safe, but at least if she's on the run she doesn't have to feel like such a burden.

A burden. It's a lot for someone to feel in childhood, but Annabeth has never really felt little. She's taller than all of the kids at her school, and smarter than them too. She knows so much more than they do, and it's the single thing she can be proud of.

Leaving home feels good. It isn't like with most kids, running away when they got mad at her parents. No, she isn't mad at her father, exactly. She's just… uncaring. He doesn't protect her, and she feels unsecure in his house. It is only years later that she actually resents him for his parenting.

Getting rescued by Luke and Thalia feels even better. For the first time, she belongs somewhere. She is safer than she's ever been, and she finds herself feeling young for the first time. They take care of her, more than any adult ever has, and for once she allows someone else to hold onto her life's choices.

Protection. It is the first time she'd ever felt such a thing, and she loves the warm way in which it lets her relax. She can go to sleep, without worrying about unfriendly hands shaking her awake. The presence of their safety lets her breathe, and it's something she'll always remember about her ambiguous guardians.

First Loss

"Annabeth, come on!" Luke shouts. He's fairly hysterical, and it freezes Annabeth in her spot.

She's not naïve; she knows what happened to her friend. She knows why Luke is sobbing and why they are still running. Running, even though the Minotaur is falling behind them. Running, even though Grover the Satyr had come to save them.

And yet, even in his anguish, Luke remembers to hold her hand. Together, they run onto camp borders, just in time to see a tree burst from the ground.

Grover gives a small gasp, falling towards the ground. They'd all become friends, sort of.

"Luke," Annabeth whispers, pointing tremulously. She knows the myths; she knows what it means.

He hugs her tightly, not allowing her to look at it. The mere sight will crush her with too many memories; she will surely fall beside Grover if she sees it for a moment longer. Thalia the Tree. She begins to cry, even as she is glad that they have this to remember her by.

Thalia was the first person who ever cared for her, and she was also the first to be lost. It taught Annabeth that her magical savior of a world could play cruel tricks. She never forgot it, even after she forgave the universe its act of evil.

First Kiss

She is eleven, playing archery. Grover is beside her, being patient and kind and all that things that you'd want from a friend.

She is still in a mood, though. Usually she feels fairly content with her life, but today she is too caught up in what-ifs. If she was not a demigod, what would her life be like?

"Are you okay?"

She doesn't hear him at first, and he has to repeat himself.

"Oh… yeah. Grover, have you ever dated anyone?" She feels bad that she's ignoring him, as he's been gone a lot lately. He's staying with some kid at his school.

It's an odd question coming from her, but Grover still smiles. "A couple of times, yeah."

"Is it fun?"

"Fun?"

Annabeth nods. "Dating. Kissing. Is it fun?" She hates herself for being everything she dislikes in people, but she's too curious to stop herself.

Grover's eyes soften; he understands her better than she can realize. "It is. Don't worry Annabeth, you'll go on plenty of dates."

Annabeth nods, thinking of the Aphrodite kids who already have. Sure, it will happen eventually perhaps, but she doesn't feel like being patient.

She wants to ask and he wants to offer, but neither has the courage. It would be awkward, even without the factor of the age difference. It has come up though. They've danced at parties, and she knows that they love each other as friends. They're close, and it would only have to be uncomfortable if she made it that way, but even so

Just as she decides not to even suggest such a thing, he says, "Do you want… a kiss on the cheek or something?" He blushes horribly, turning a wretched crimson. Both want to be sure that the other is aware of their intentions.

Annabeth smiles. She doesn't think about how she wishes it were Luke or how she wants it to be real. "If you want to…"

It is entirely platonic, but later the two still vow not to tell Percy. He doesn't need to know that it was his best friend who gave his girlfriend her first kiss.

First Daughter

"How do you feel?"

It's Percy, sidling beside her on the mattress. One hand is on her shoulder, and the other on their baby girl. His two favorite people in the world. This comes across with his smile and with his gaze, and Annabeth loves him so much for it. She doesn't have to ask; she never will have to be uncertain of how much he adores them.

"I feel fine." She cannot move her lips from their smile; she is too elated to be fully aware of anything.

Percy asks her more questions, but she only sits beside him and beams. Her attention is completely caught by their perfect newborn, and won't be pulled away for anything.

"Annabeth?"

"Hmm?"

"I said 'what do we want to name her'?" He is stroking her sweat-drenched hair, as well as holding their baby's hand.

Her grin widens, if possible. "Nothing Greek, okay?"

Percy laughs, pulling the baby into his own arms. "Agreed."

And they will be good parents. They won't ever forget their baby's birthday, or let her feel unsafe. She will go on dates, and lead the normal life that they never could themselves. It is a first for this reason, too. The next generation, they do not have to worry so much. Their parents, however ungodly they may be becoming as a race, know more than their forerunners did.

And that, in it of itself, is a first.