skotia

darkness

Darkness.

Nothing but eternal darkness.

That was all Annabeth could see. It was suffocating her, and she gladly fell into it's deadly embrace.

All around her was nothing, and that's all she knew. She even forgot her own name. She was darkness, and the cold, and death, and all things that were empty because that was all she knew.

"Fight," a small voice said from deep inside her. Suddenly, a figure shone brighter than light, shattering away the darkness around it. "Fight it."

Standing in front of her was a girl. A tall, muscular, blond-haired girl, who held a knife confidently in her hand. She had stormy gray eyes that looked at Annabeth skeptically. The girl stared at her fiercely, a fire burning inside of her. A fire that Annabeth knew that she did no possess.

"Fight it," the girl said, no more than sixteen years old. "Or will you just give up? Your fatal flaw is pride, Annabeth Chase. I don't think you'll give up after one memory."

Annabeth Chase.

That was her name. That was who she was. She wasn't darkness or death or the cold or empty. She was Annabeth Chase.

"They're waiting for you," the young girl said encouragingly. "Everyone. Percy may have been the spark to start everything, but a spark is useless without a fuse, and you're the fuse, Annabeth."

"Who are you?" Annabeth asked, surprised to find that she had regained use of her voice. Maybe it was because this was a dream. Maybe because the memory had shocked her into speaking. Either way, she could talk again, and she was glad.

The girl smiled sadly. "I'm you. I'm the you that everyone knows and remembers."

"I-I'm not you?"

She shook her head. "No, you're not. But, no one else is the same either. Everyone has been changed somehow, most for the worse. I'm the Annabeth Chase that was smart enough to hide her memories from Dolos, and, unfortunately, from herself."

"How do I get them back?" she whispered, asking the question out of curiosity more than desire.

"You have to want to. You have to come to terms with the fact that you're never going to be me again."

The words stung deep inside of Annabeth. Her half-formed hopes of regaining memories, thus becoming the confident, strong, stable girl before her, disappeared in a heartbeat.

"Why?" Annabeth whispered. "Why can't I be?"

She gives the other Annabeth a small smile. "That's not how the world works. After the war, no one's stayed the same. Everyone's just as shattered as you are. You just have to remember. Just know this: don't be afraid to fall."

"That doesn't make sense," Annabeth said.

The young Annabeth said nothing. Instead, she began to glow even brighter. She destroyed the darkness with her white light until it was all Annabeth could see.

|||||

Annabeth opened her eyes, prepared to see the young Annabeth standing in front of her. Instead, a concerned-looking boy was staring down at her.

"Thank the gods you're awake," Cameron said, sounding beyond relieved. He ruffled his brown hair, running his fingers through the strands. Annabeth watched, mesmerized, but he didn't seem to notice; he continued to speak. "How do you feel? Wait, don't answer, just drink this."

He gingerly placed a glass into her hand, and she sipped through the straw without thinking about it. The liquid was tasteless and cool.

"What happened?" she asked, her tongue feeling like concrete. But that fact was unimportant; she could talk, not just in a dream.

"You can talk!" Cameron exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "That's great! That means you're alright. You are alright, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Annabeth said. "Where's Drew?"

Cameron frowned at one of the four doors. "She left. Probably to track down some nightly company." Judging by the tone of his voice, he wasn't happy about that. "But she'll be thrilled to learn that you're alright," he added.

Annabeth just nodded. The windows weren't glowing with sunlight anymore; just a dull glow was emitted. The Sun must be setting, she decided.

"Do you need anything?" Cameron asked her tentatively. His eyes brushed over the dried blood and dirt still clinging to her skin. "You missed lunch and dinner, and you didn't eat breakfast. Aren't you hungry?"

Annabeth hesitated before answering. "Not really. I'm used to going a couple of days without food."

Cameron's expression was alarming. His face held such an intense concern and worry that Annabeth found herself scooting away from him. Cameron's sharp eyes followed the movement.

"Annabeth, you have to eat," he said softly.

She shook her head in disagreement. "I already had that square thing yesterday, and just then that glass of...whatever. My stomach..." she trailed off, pressing her hand against her stomach. The mere thought of eating made her queasy.

There was a thick silence. Annabeth looked away from Cameron, unable to meet the hazel gaze. There was something in his eyes that made her stomach turn. Something that resembled caring, which she was unfamiliar with.

"Annabeth how often do you get food? You know...in there." He avoided the word 'cellar'.

She thought for a second before responding, "I got water everyday. But food...once every three days. Four, sometimes."

Another long pause. Then, Cameron reached out, and placed his hand on top of her thin one. Surprised, Annabeth whipped her head to look at the boy.

"I'm going to help you," he told her softly. "Everyone here just wants to help you get better."

Annabeth's chin trembled, and she was helpless to fight it. "You mean you want me to remember."

Cameron shook his head, tossing his brown curls. "Not necessarily. We're here to help you get whatever you need. You don't have to remember to get better. But in order to get better, you're going to have to eat. You're going to have to- what's that?"

Annabeth followed his gaze to her wrist. She studied it, searching for what he saw, which was no easy task considering the grime that covered it. Then, she saw it.

Directly on her wrist was a white mark in the shape of a horseshoe.

"What is that? How did it get there?" she asked Cameron anxiously, rubbing it.

"All I know is that's a Greek letter. Omega," Cameron shrugs. "It wasn't there earlier, was it?"

"Not that I know of."

The mark did more than unsettle her; it filled her with a terror. A terror of something explainable, of the unknown. The comfort she had managed to find earlier crumbled to pieces.

|||||

Cameron watched the daughter of Athena bite her lip almost savagely as she glared at the mark on her arm. For the first time, he noticed just how different the girl was from who she used to be.

The first time Cameron ever saw Annabeth Chase, he was new at Camp Half-Blood, and somehow had to fight in the Battle of Manhattan. He was so scared then, but this girl was unwaveringly brave. She was in charge, and no one questioned his orders. Especially not Cameron. The first time he really saw her was after she took a knife for Percy Jackson. Because of his parentage and the fact that he was a stranger, unlike Percy, he wasn't trusted around her, but he still went to visit her briefly because Cameron had to see for himself who this girl was.

He had approached her quietly. Annabeth was sleeping then, and wasn't aware of Cameron's presence. He had looked at her for a minute or two before rushing away, filled with that elation of breaking the rules.

However, she didn't stay that way for very long. The girl was back on her feet in no time, and continued to fight in the battle. She had said one thing to him that day. After Cameron was caught in a barbed net, courtesy of one of Kronos' many lackeys, Annabeth had helped him back to Olympus. And she had spoken to him.

"You're a hero," she had told him. "You're a warrior, and warriors never truly fall."

She had disappeared after that to find Percy, but it was enough for Cameron to be noticed by her.

Later that year, when Percy Jackson was taken away, Annabeth was much more frazzled and unsure of herself. Cameron had never spoken to her, not even when she left to fight the giants in Europe.

No, Cameron had stayed at Camp Half-Blood, where everything was slowly going to Tartarus. He was needed to help everyone fight. News about Annabeth Chase and the rest of the Seven was hard to come by at Camp, seeing that they were across the Atlantic. But everyone knew what happened in Rome. Rachel Dare, their oracle, received a message claiming that both Annabeth and Percy had fallen into Tartarus. That was enough to send everyone at Camp into panic, including Cameron. Hardly any demigods survived Tartarus, and the ones that did were never the same.

Looking at Annabeth Chase now, it was easy to tell that she wasn't the same. However, it wasn't wholly the fault of Tartarus.

Once Annabeth and Percy had escaped Tartarus, they were reunited with the Seven once more, and they set out for Greece to destroy Gaea and her giants. However, the blood of Olympus was spilled upon the ancient grounds, and Gaea woke up. The Seven were left stranded in Greece while Gaea went to destroy Camp Half-Blood. The gods ignored their plea for help.

According to Piper McLean, who became the spokesperson for the surviving Seven, told everyone the story. Everyone managed to seek cover near the coast of the Mediterranean except for one. Right after Gaea woke up, everything had gone to hell. The giants were attacking, and everyone was running for their lives. Annabeth Chase was never seen again, and the entire demigod world believed her to be dead.

Until Cameron heard her voice in the darkness.

Seven months ago, Cameron was trying to fall asleep when he heard it. A whispering voice crying out. And he recognized it. But this time, it wasn't telling him that he was a hero and a warrior. No, now it was asking for someone to help her, or for someone to kill her.

Annabeth Chase was alive, and she was in danger. So Drew had managed to locate her, and they formulated a plan, along with Clarisse and Chris.

But this wasn't the Annabeth Chase Cameron remembered. And it seemed like Annabeth didn't even remember who she once was.

Not for the first time, Cameron looked at her and saw just how filthy she was. The girl was coated with years worth of dirt and blood.

"Do you want to take a bath?" he asked her gently, distracting Annabeth from rubbing at her wrist.

She raised her head and looked at him with those heartbreakingly empty gray eyes. Annabeth nodded slightly.

"Okay, then."

He released a shaky breath before standing up to draw water for the bath. From behind him, Annabeth released a whimper. Cameron turned to face the girl, and saw panic lining her face, her eyes widened with fear.

"What is it?" Cameron asked.

"Don't-" her eyes swam with tears. "Don't leave me."

He mentally kicked himself. "No, no, I'm never going to leave you alone, Annabeth. Can...can you walk?"

She looked down at her legs doubtfully. Cameron noted how skinny they were. No muscles bulged out the way they did on Drew and Clarisse. But, he reminded himself, they had been fighting and training for the past few years.

"Never mind," Cameron said, shaking his head. "Never mind that. Here, let me help you."

Cameron slid one arm underneath the crook under her knees and his other arm bracing against her back. He lifted her off of the bed, and she almost went flying through the air. She was much lighter than she should be.

Annabeth whimpered as they slowly made their way to the bathroom. Cameron made sure to take each step carefully, in order to not jostle the girl.

Finally, they stepped over the threshold to the bathroom. Cameron gently sat her down on the counter by the sink, and he turned the water to the bathtub on. Hot water flowed through the faucet.

Satisfied, Cameron rose off of the ground and turned back to the sink. Annabeth looked at him blankly.

If she didn't want him to leave her, Cameron was going to have to stay in the bathroom. While she was naked. For some reason, despite all the monsters and terrors he had faced in the past few years, the thought of being in the same room as a naked Annabeth Chase terrified him.

"Damn," he cursed quietly. Cameron touched the golden medallion that hung from his neck and wrapped his hand around it.

Drew, get your butt in the bathroom, he said in his mind.

Almost immediately, a response came through, though not the person he wanted to hear from.

Why, exactly, is Drew's butt needed in the bathroom? asked an amused sounding Chris.

Cameron growled. Remember that supposedly dead girl that we saved? She's covered with blood and dirt and gods knows what else. I'm taking initiative.

Oh gods, Clarisse's voice sounded through Cameron's head. Are you trying to bathe Chase? This should be good.

Shove off, Cameron said to her. Drew, get up here before I flood the bathroom.

"I'm here, no need to get all worked up," said a bright voice from in front of Cameron. He opened his eyes and saw a smiling Drew Tanaka standing there.

Jackson flooded the bathroom once, Clarisse said, sounding strangely wistful. He was a pain, but gods, I miss that kid. At least he did something to save the world.

Yeah, well, I have Olympus's best hope up here with me. If she can't find Jackson, then no one can.

Cameron released the medallion and focused in on the two girls in the bathroom with him.

"Can you, er..." he tried to say.

Drew shot him a small grin. "I know how a person gets into the bath, Cam. Can you fill it with something scented? Bubbles, or something."

"Sure," Cameron said, relieved to have a job that didn't involve undressing Annabeth. He rummaged through the cabinet as Drew helped Annabeth off of the sink.

"She's in," Drew said. "Have you found anything?"

Cameron held up a blue bottle. "I found this."

"Pour it into the tub. I have to wash Annabeth's hair," Drew ordered.

He shuffled over to the white tub. Drew had filled the tub up so much that it almost spilled over the edge, but he didn't blame her: Annabeth was so dirty that she would need it. Carefully avoiding looking at the girl, Cameron dumped the entire bottle into the tub.

Annabeth sat, hardly even moving. Her eyes were glassy and distant, as if part of her wasn't in this room at all. Her long hair floated on top of the water, the tendrils of it twisting together.

"Find soap," Drew instructed while dumping shampoo onto her palm.

Cameron turned and went through the cabinet once more. He pulled out a full bar of white soap. He went to hand it to Drew, but she shook her head.

"Does it look like I have a free hand?" she asked sharply, gesturing to her hands that were rubbing shampoo into Annabeth's blonde hair. "Don't be such a twelve year old, and help her get clean."

"Fine," he grumbled.

Drew rolled her eyes at him. Cameron, meanwhile, took Annabeth's arm gently out of the water in order to scrub it.

"Hey, Drew. Have you ever seen anything like this before?" he asked and showed her the Omega symbol etched into Annabeth's skin.

Drew's eyes narrowed as she looked at it. "When Rachel wrote the Second Great Prophecy on the wall, she used an Omega as a header. Do you think that relates to anything?"

"Maybe, since she was a part of that Great Prophecy. But it's weird, don't you think? It wasn't there before just now, I don't think. She got it after she woke up."

"Try to wash it away," Drew offered unhelpfully.

"It doesn't come off."

They went back to washing Annabeth. After Cameron washed the dirt from her arms, he declared himself finished.

"Annabeth?" he asked her carefully. She blinked, and seemed to realize that she was in the bathtub. "Do you want to clean yourself?"

He handed the soap, which she took with a shaky hand. Annabeth stared at all the blood and dirt swirling together in the water.

"I have to go on patrol," he said to Drew, standing up. "Can you manage?"

She nodded. "Do you have your medallion?"

Cameron grabbed it and showed her. Drew inclined her head in acknowledgement, which Cameron took as an invitation to leave.

He closed the door to the bathroom softly. For a brief pause, he leaned against the door and listened to the splashing of water coming from the other side.

Cameron reluctantly peeled himself away from the door. He grabbed his bronze sword from where it leaned against the wall, and walked out of Annabeth's room.

He ran into Clarisse in the hallway. She gave him a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Careful," she warned him. "They're not in a good mood today."

"Are they ever?" Cameron responded as he continued to walk out of their house. He placed his mask of shadows over his face, and allowed the Earth to move him.

He was brought to a peaceful-looking glen, where a tall woman with brown hair resided in a throne woven from flowers and vines. A few other demigods were there, too, and not all of them were wearing a mask. Cameron winced as he looked at a girl, no more than fifteen, getting whipped by a masked demigod. She shuddered at each impact, but didn't cry out.

He couldn't help but wonder if, in the first few weeks, Annabeth ever cried, or if she was strong. Like this young demigod.

"What do you have to report, soldier?" Gaea asked him, tearing his focus away from the girl getting tortured.

Cameron allowed himself to smile wickedly at her. "Many things, my queen."