Heroes of Olympus Series. Annabeth Chase X Male Reader Story

Not Taking Advantage of the Situation

Fortunately Hedge had put his pants and shoes back on, so Piper didn't have to explain the goat legs. It broke Piper's heart to see her dad like this—pushed beyond the breaking point, crying like a little boy.

She didn't know what the giant had done to him exactly, how the monsters had shattered his spirit, but she didn't think she could stand to find out. "It'll be okay, Dad," she said, making her voice as soothing as possible.

She didn't want to charmspeak her own father, but it seemed the only way. "These people are my friends. We're going to help you. You're safe now." He blinked, and looked up at helicopter rotors. "Blades. They had a machine with so many blades. They had six arms ..."

When they got him to the bay doors, the pilot came over to help. "What's wrong with him?" she asked. "Smoke inhalation," Jason suggested. "Or heat exhaustion." "We should get him to a hospital," the pilot said.

"It's okay," Piper said. "The airport is good." "Yeah, the airport is good," the pilot agreed immediately. Then she frowned, as if uncertain why she'd changed her mind. "Isn't he Tristan McLean, the movie star?"

"No," Piper said. "He only looks like him. Forget it." "Yeah," the pilot said. "Only looks like him. I—" She blinked, confused. "I forgot what I was saying. Let's get going." Jason raised his eyebrows at Piper, obviously impressed, but Piper felt miserable.

She didn't want to twist people's minds, convince them of things they didn't believe. It felt so bossy, so wrong—like something Drew would do back at camp, or Medea in her evil department store. And how would it help her father?

She couldn't convince him he would be okay, or that nothing had happened. His trauma was just too deep. Finally they got him on board, and the helicopter took off. The pilot kept getting questions over her radio, asking her where she was going, but she ignored them.

They veered away from the burning mountain and headed toward the Berkeley Hills. "Piper." Her dad grasped her hand and held on like he was afraid he'd fall. "It's you? They told me—they told me you would die. They said ... horrible things would happen."

"It's me, Dad." It took all her willpower not to cry. She had to be strong for him. "Everything's going to be okay." "They were monsters," he said. "Real monsters. Earth spirits, right out of Grandpa Tom's stories—and the Earth Mother was angry with me."

"And the giant, Tsul'kälû, breathing fire—" He focused on Piper again, his eyes like broken glass, reflecting a crazy kind of light. "They said you were a demigod. Your mother was ..." "Aphrodite," Piper said. "Goddess of love." "I—I—" He took a shaky breath, then seemed to forget how to exhale.

Piper's friends were careful not to watch. Leo fiddled with a lug nut from his tool belt. Jason gazed at the valley below—the roads backing up as mortals stopped their cars and gawked at the burning mountain.

The man had busied himself with wrapping the hand that was fried by Piper's dagger in a wrap of bandages and seemed to be muttering to himself about something, not really paying attention.

Gleeson chewed on the stub of his carnation, and for once the satyr didn't look in the mood to yell or boast. Tristan McLean wasn't supposed to be seen like this. He was a star. He was confident, stylish, suave—always in control.

That was the public image he projected. Piper had seen the image falter before. But this was different. Now it was broken, gone. "I didn't know about Mom," Piper told him. "Not until you were taken. When we found out where you were, we came right away. My friends helped me. No one will hurt you again."

Her dad couldn't stop shivering. "You're heroes—you and your friends. I can't believe it. You're a real hero, not like me. Not playing a part. I'm so proud of you, Pipes." But the words were muttered listlessly, in a semi-trance.