I stared at Annabeth, who was unconscious in a hospital bed, and, for the first time in ten years, I prayed.

I had said things like please don't let me die! but that just came in my line of work. I hadn't forgiven the gods for letting my past happen, especially the kidnapping. I didn't even pray to my father. Sure, I threw some food into the fire for him, but I still held a grudge again the Sea God.

But that didn't matter at that moment.

I prayed to every god, including the minors, a true prayer. I prayed that Annabeth would be able to scream at me and be so angry that she could just kill me again. She could never speak to me again, but I didn't care as long as she was alive. I would trade in my job, which I've come to love, for her safety. I never wanted her getting this job. It was too dangerous.

The agency hadn't been busy for a while, and neither of us had been in danger. I had been so thankful of that until the day I got this assignment. I had been working there since the day when I was eighteen and they brought me here. I wasn't given a choice for the last ten years, but, once that was up, I was given a choice. But I didn't take it. My job was all I had in my life at that point.

On my eighteenth birthday, I stayed up until midnight, talking to Annabeth on the phone. When she hung up, claiming her dorm advisor would be pissed if Annabeth didn't, I told her I'd call her that morning, but I never got the chance. I fell asleep, and I woke up in a metal room with a table and a woman in her mid-twenties sitting at the other side. She told me about what happened. She told me what would happen in my future, and I hated it all. I fought for a year, wanting to get back to Annabeth and my old life. Then, I saw Annabeth again. It was from a distance while I was on a mission, and I realized she was better without me. My job gained me some enemies, and I couldn't live with myself if I put her in danger.

So, I let go. I worked until I was the best at my job, and the agency began to trust me, giving me the option to move out of the safe-house if I wanted to, but I didn't. I worked in the dangerous cities for years until I was given a promotion down south. I would work higher class cases and get a higher paycheck. So, I moved down to a nice, quiet beach in North Carolina. Surprisingly, the agency was run out of there, and, even better, they paid all of my expenses and for the million dollar beach house on the shore.

No one could recognize me as Percy Jackson. My usual green eyes were chocolate brown, and I dressed completely differently. My Bieber-like black hair was also brown and perfectly cropped, reminding me of a teacher I knew at the agency. Everything about me was different, except for the tattoo on my arm and the scar on my back from the Achilles Heel.

But I didn't look like that now. All of the brown had been washed out of my hair until I had pitch black hair again, and I hadn't gotten around to cutting it in a while. I took out my contacts, and I was wearing a Camp Half-Blood tee shirt. I felt like Percy Jackson, not my alias Noah Harrison.

For the last five years, I hadn't cared that I didn't even know the name of the place I worked for and was forced to call it the 'agency'. I hadn't cared that I spent just about every night alone. I hadn't cared that I hid my pictures of when I was Percy Jackson in my closet under a bunch of sweaters I hate.

I simply didn't care.

Then I got a new partner…

A Few Months Earlier:

Annabeth:

I scanned through the file I had been given on arrival to JFK, where I took a private jet out to North Carolina.

I was eighteen when my boyfriend went missing, and I hadn't gotten over it. Instead, I threw myself into my work. After finishing Olympus, I got tired of that and went on to a new challenge. I was twenty three when I got the offer to join an elite task force, made specifically for Demigods.

We didn't have an office like the FBI.

I logged onto a special email service, which is un-hack-able, and got my assignments. I did that for five years when I got an offer to go to North Carolina, which is where the Agency is ran out of. The legit business is an airplane company which rivals with Delta and stuff like that. This upgrade offered a higher pay and a harder job, which are my two favorite things.

In Boston, I was myself. But, while I had the same name, I wasn't the same person in North Carolina.

My mom died in childbirth, and I have a phobia of it due to that. My dad is a college professor, which he actually is, but I loved my Step Mother. I never ran away from home but got into an elite school when I was a child. I was very close to my father, and I had a thing for the idea of flight. I hate chocolate more than anything, and I was a pilot for about three months. Then, I started working in the company, and I've worked myself up. I am close friends with Noah Harrison, who I am sharing a deluxe home on the shore with. We met at a work fundraiser and became fast friends. I have commitment phobia because of my last relationship. I was staying with my sister while my apartment was being remodeled, and I came in to check on it. And the only thing being nailed was my fiancé.

"Noah will be your partner. You will work assignments together, which is why you two will be living together," Anna Holmes, if that was her real name, told me across her desk. My flight got in an hour ago, and the car the agency gave me was waiting at the airport. The GPS was set to go here, and I did. It was the main center for Zeus Airways, and I went first to the seventh floor before taking the secret elevator to the basement, where these talks were always to take place.

"Now, we just need some last minute questions," Anna smiled as she brought out a thin tablet.

"Do you smoke?"

"No."

She made a check with the stylus.

"Have you ever lived with a smoker?"

"My half-sister and roommate until now used to smoke before quitting two years ago."

Another check.

"Are you close with your godly-half-siblings?"

"Yes, all of them."

Another check.

"Are you able to keep up a stable romantic relationship?"

I took a deep breath. This was a question I knew she would have to ask. I was asked it when I came to the Agency, and this was probably about the same importance. But it still hurt to think about. Images of Percy Jackson, my ex, filled my mind.

Technically, we never broke up, but he disappeared ten years ago, the day after his eighteenth birthday. It had been a decade. He wasn't coming back, but I still found myself hoping. I can't stay with a guy because I'm still in love with Percy Jackson.

No one's like him…

I watched as the rain angrily slapped against the cabin windows. I was caught in Percy's cabin, not that I would want it any other way. The end of the summer was coming soon, and we'll be seniors after that. Finally, I didn't have a roommate, which meant I could call Percy all night without getting a shoe thrown at me. Plus, the security sucks there. All I need to do is cross a few wires, and I can have Percy come up whenever I want.

"You okay?" Percy sat down on the hardwood floors beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I looked up from staring at the windows, and I instinctively stopped hugging my knees to straighten my spine.

I hadn't been okay .The sight of rain pouring down a window pane like blood from newly slit skin made me want to cry into Percy's perfectly toned chest. But, the moment he's around me, I become like a giddy little school girl. My lips formed a smile that was wide enough to remind me of those dumb cartoon characters who look like they need professional help from smiling so damn much.

"Yea, Perce. Just thinking," I rested my head on Percy's chest and closed my eyes for a brief moment to let the peace and greatness of this moment set in.

"About?" Percy tightened his grip on me protectively.

"Camp. School. You," I smiled at the last one.

"And?"

"And," I smirked, "I was thinking about our past…"

"I was thinking about you, but not our past…"

"What then?" I stared up into his sea green eyes like a little kid listening to their father tell them a story.

"How much I love you," Percy leaned down to kiss me.

"No," I finally answered.

I took the keys out of the ignition and looked at myself in the car mirror.

My eyes were still grey, and I looked exactly the same as I did when I was a kid. Well, other than how my hair was short and had been professionally straightened. But I didn't feel like Annabeth Chase. I hadn't in ten years. I forgot how it felt to be her, which was the worst part.

I forced my mind off of that and grabbed my purse from the passenger seat. Clothes had been delivered for me, and personal things I needed had also been sent before me. All I had to do was put the key in the lock and I lived here. The place was beautiful, like one of those houses that you wonder what kind of people live there as you drive away. Noah, my new partner, was inside, ready to get our stories straight. I knew that his BMW X5 was sitting in the garage (my bio stated that I hated parking in garages, and he loved it), and I also knew that he would be sitting in the living room, which was the first thing you went into, with a pizza on the coffee table (Beef deep dish, my alias's and my favorite). My stomach growled from how I hadn't eaten all day.

I got out of the car, taking the pre-stocked purse with me. It held things girls need, like cash and three credit cards (one for work use and two for personal). My assignments usually went like that, or at least the ones that took a long time. I was given a gun, a wallet, clothes, and a room. But this was going to be harder than any job I had done.

I couldn't just get in a car and drive away when I'm done. This is my life now, even if I don't want it to be. Shaking off the thought, I focused on how hard it was to walk in my Chanel heels. Heels had always been my forte, but these were like walking in a ball gown on a tightrope.

The key slid into the lock with ease, and I was surprised by that. Every safe house I had ever gone to had a security system that was even better than a bank. But I guess I was expected. The front door was heavier than plain mahogany. Maybe fifty pounds of steel or more.

The inside was beachy chic and probably costed more than the first five years I earned. The pizza was sitting on the coffee table, and a tall man lounged on a white sofa. Shock registered through his brown eyes, and there was something familiar about him. His features were prominent, but they were masked to try to seem normal. Noah's brown hair was perfectly colored, but I knew it was fake by small tip offs, as well as his eyes.

"Noah Harrison?"

Noah shook off his surprise and nodded.

"Annabeth Chase," his voice was cool and melodic, like many of the Agents I had met over the years, but his seemed forced.

There was something about him. I don't know what it was. It wasn't his looks, definitely not. It was his voice. It was his atmosphere. It was something 'Percy' about him, and I began to wonder who he really was. Some agents get caught and have to start all over.

I forced my hopes back down. He wasn't Percy.

Percy was gone.

This is just a pilot. I don't know if I want to continue it since I suck with action :(