Percy Jackson and the Olympians Mending The Cracks

There is so much blood. It's covering my hands because I'm holding her, keeping a hand on her stomach to stop the stream. My friends next to me seem unreal, like the ghosts of my panicky thoughts. I can vaguely make out Jason's paled face, shocked and terrified, and Piper's quivering hands, white at the knuckles, and Hazel's quiet prayers, sinking into my ears, making the horror story in front of me so very real. My heartbeat slows down to match her breaths, so soft, so low. Uneven. I clutch my fingers on her neck and at the backs of her knees. Everywhere I touch her, I try to give strength to her weak and maimed body.

Her face pales as every second goes by, and I start walking faster, trying to save her before time runs out. I don't want to run, for fear that she will get worse with the bouncing of being in my arms as I do so. So I speed walk instead, feeling as if with every step, I'm approaching the possibility that everything will be okay. After all, motivation is all I am running on right now.

The air seems too cold for the middle of summer, especially in Greece, with its sweltering temperatures. It shouldn't be cold enough for ice to be spreading through my veins, should it? And when did the sun get so dull? Wasn't it shining as bright as Annabeth smile just five minutes ago? Even the _Argo II_ doesn't look beautiful; the shiny wood floors seem unpolished and old. Unwelcoming.

After what seems like eons, the door of the sick bay comes into view. I shove it open forcefully, stride inside and carefully lay her down on one of the beds. I turn to the other five, all looking back at me with wide eyes, scratched faces, and grieved worried expressions.

"You guys should go get cleaned up," I croak. The sound can barely be heard, and I feel like nails are being hammered into my throat, stopping my voice from coming out. They all nod absentmindedly and turn around in a daze as they slowly clear the doorway.

I turn my attention back to Annabeth, still half-conscious. She groans with so much pain that I falter as I fumble for the ambrosia on the shelves. Even though my hands are trembling so hard I'm afraid they'll fall off, I manage to grab a couple ambrosia squares. I place a hand on her shoulder and quickly stuff the little squares into her mouth. Thank the gods that she has enough consciousness left to chew. I see her throat move and I know she has swallowed the healing ambrosia. Her breaths become even and long, and her eyelids are no longer fluttering.

Annabeth Chase looks beautiful even when her luxurious hair is sticky with blood, even when her face is deathly pale. Her long, graceful fingers rest peacefully on either side of her. Her eyelashes brush her cheeks in the most breathtaking way. She is more than anyone I have ever known. She is lovelier than anything the world has heard of. She is divine, beauty in its purest form, and the only person in the cosmos that can get me thinking these deep thoughts. I suspect it is her high level of intellect that's rubbing off on me. Her t-shirt can no longer be described as orange because what should stay inside is pouring out too quickly, too dangerously, and if it doesn't stop soon, Annabeth is going to be left a husk of a human being. There is a rip in the no-longer-orange t-shirt where Porphyrion's spear struck her. I remember the feeling of dread so clearly when it happened.

_I wiped the monster slime off riptide, grinning. All the six people around me looked battered, beat up, and exhausted to the core, but each and every one of them had a smile on their face. I couldn't believe it; seven teenagers had defeated an army of fifty-foot tall giants with supernatural Greek power with just a little grudgingly given help from the gods. Incredible. Annabeth stood close, her arm pressed against mine. It seemed like the sun had risen again, opening up the light to a new day full of possibilities. With Annabeth next to me, I thought of our plans, and how we could finally think about them. I glanced at the rest of the seven around me, feeling so relieved that they were happy and safe. Frank laughed at something Hazel had said, and out of good spirits, he lifted her and spun her around with ease. Her squeal made everyone laugh. Jason had one arm around Piper and another around Leo. The three talked and smiled among themselves. Despite the warm feeling settling in my stomach, a tiny little voice kept whispering in my head, making me feel uneasy. Out of all twelve giants, eight of them had been vaporized, but the rest, including Porphyrion, were only knocked out. It worried me, but we'd be out of here soon enough. Suddenly, Annabeth jolted next to me. I glanced at her. Her blond hair was gleaming in the Greek sunlight, looking like finely woven gold, and it famed her face perfectly. Her gray eyes looked less steely and stern, more like liquid silver. Even her simple outfit, a Camp Half-Blood shirt, shorts, and black chucks, made her look like someone worth bowing down for. _

_ "Shoot." She muttered. _

_ "What's wrong?" I asked her softly. _

_ "I left my sword back there. Just a second, I'll go get it." She turned and jogged over to the left, much to close to Porphyrion for my liking. The gorgeous blond curls on her head bounced up and down, literally glowing. A gleam of white told me her sword rested right next to the giant's spear-adorned hand. A bad feeling started spreading throughout my whole body, making my stomach churn. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Porphyrion twitch just as Annabeth's back was turned when she bent to grab her sword. My heart started rising in my throat and I couldn't move, speak or warn Annabeth. I was powerless to do anything but watch as Porphyrion rose to his knees, and swung his arm at her. As the spear struck her, she threw her sword, stabbing Porphyrion right in the chest. He vaporized in an instant, and Annabeth crumpled to the floor. I tried to run to her as fast as I could, but it felt as if I was running through a wall. Time slowed down, and it wasn't Kronos. I heard a hoarse shout that could have been me, because my throat felt raw after it ended. The pool of blood around her was tainting my vision, turning everything red. _

My breathing gets heavy just thinking of it, because I am so ashamed. So ashamed I just watched and stood, so ashamed that I simply didn't do anything. Now my Wise Girl is barely breathing, with a slice down her ribcage that cuts down to the bone. She has lost so much blood. Instead of being safely locked inside her body, it's on my hands, my arms, my shirt. Her blood has become my scars. Scars that I'm sure will haunt me forever, and every time I see them, I will feel her pain, see her fear, live the tearful moment. Again and again and again.

I stand slowly, knowing that I must do my best now, if I couldn't then. My whole body quivering, I grab the bandages from the shelf above my head. A roll of bandages in one hand, I reach out the other and cup her face with it. I feel the frost from her skin spreading into my fingers, travelling right into my heart. Hoping she can hear me somewhere in there, I say, "We'll make you okay, Annabeth."

I place down the bandages on a table to the side. Taking a warm cloth dipped in nectar, I wipe it over her wound, lifting her t-shirt to right below her chest to do so. Slowly, gently, I clean the blood. I wince when the gash comes into my sight. It's about half an inch wide and nearly a foot long. The red line stretches from the top right corner of her torso to the middle of her stomach, right above the waistband of her shorts. The cut is horrible, worse than her injury during the titan war. I understand her scream now. Why it was so painful…

_Her mouth was open wide, emitting a high, intense sound of pain. It travelled to my ears and rang through my body, rattling my brain, bouncing off the walls of my throat, slicing my heart in half. The world was spinning faster and faster, as if the gods thought it was a basketball. The scream wasn't stopping. Instead, it was receding, getting quieter, weaker, and lifeless. As she fell backwards in slow motion, her eyes travelled to me, letting out a single tear. It was the same tear that fell when she sobbed about Rachel, her, and I, almost a year before. It was the same tear that splashed on my face when she cried for me in Tartarus. The tear that splashed like a waterfall on my head, dampening the sun, darkening the hope, cracking my heart, once again appeared. Her head was tilted back, one leg off the ground and her sword arm extended from throwing her weapon at the wretched giant. Blood blossomed on her t-shirt before my very eyes, blooming like horrible roses, like a reminder that I couldn't be faster than death. But that wasn't true. It couldn't be. _

_ Clouds seemed to gather rapidly, circling over my head threateningly. I wanted to catch her before her head hit the ground, so I pushed my body, running so fast I could see the floor starting to move as well. I reached just in time to have her hair slip through my fingers. _

"_ANNABETH!" _

I remember what had happened five minutes before the battle started. Had we admitted our love only to have it broken? No, it can't break; it won't break, because I am holding it together with my bare hands. I have finally admitted it, that I am surely, most definitely smitten with Annabeth Chase. I haven't gone through the overwhelming sensation just to have it not take affect. I mean, sure, a few stolen glances and kisses during the battle are exhilarating, but I want, no, _need _a lifetime of her love.

The bandage is clean and white and soft. Starting from the bottom of the wound, I wrap the cloth round and round her middle, losing my thoughts while doing so. Will she forgive me for what I've done? I wouldn't. Nobody forgives an idiot who just _lets _his girlfriend walk into the arms of danger. Nobody forgives people like me. Why would Annabeth? Any fair and rational person would see me for what I really am. A monster.

I'm being selfish. What about her? What about Annabeth? Will she be okay? Will I see her again, hear her beautiful voice again, feel her every breath again? I want to see her blond princess curls bouncing up and down, feel them tickle my skin. I yearn for her gray eyes, like crystal orbs, observe every thing on a deeper level, and unravel all the secrets the world has to hide from them. I want to hear her say it, _Seaweed Brain_. The small laugh she always stifles as she says it, the little smile that plays on her pink, pink lips, the tenderness in her voice as she teases, I want to hear it all. I long to feel her body against mine, perfectly fitting in, closing all the gaps. I need her arms around me, wiping away everything that is bad. But most of all, I want her lips. I want to kiss her till I'm out of breath again. I want to kiss her like I did right before we went to fight. I want to kiss her like I did at the bottom of the canoe lake at camp, nervous, carefree and sweet.

When the bandages are covering the whole wound, I pull down her shirt again and clear the hair from her face. It is completely relaxed, lips full and soft, nose graceful and straight, and cheekbones high and beautiful. Her eyelashes are dark, unlike her blond locks, which always make her eyes pop out, their gray startling. Sighing, I trudge over to the little wooden chair next to Annabeth's bed and slump down on it. I tilt my head back so that I look at the wooden ceiling. Small ceiling fans hang from above, slowly rotating. They blow the scent of cinnamon that always lingers in the air in the sick bay into my nose. Pale yellow curtains shield the blinding sunlight pouring in from the portholes on the wall to my left, filling the whole room with a yellowish tinge. The quiet creaking of the ceiling fans, the dim light, and the gentle rocking of the ship make my eyelids feel as heavy as lead. Before I know it, my mind is venturing into the dreams that await me.

…

"Percy," a quiet and low voice whispers. I look around wildly, wondering who is calling my name at the bottom of the ocean. No regular human's voice should be heard hear, should it? I forget how to respond to that because everything is becoming blurry and out of focus. The world tips upside down and I am nearly blinded by the bright light coming in from the portholes. Someone must have drawn the curtains. I look around, wincing; my neck is stiff from falling asleep in a hard chair. Frank's face comes into view.

"Mm?" I murmur sleepily, unsure of what I'm doing in the sick bay.

"Percy, you've been asleep on this chair all night. I think you should go get some breakfast." Frank says.

I want to say that I am not hungry, but just then my stomach emits a loud growl. So instead, I nod, stretch my arms above my head and stand up. What I see before me makes me dizzy.

A blond girl lies on the bed in front of me. She is in a horrible state, with a gray, clammy face and bandages peeking out from below her shirt. I remember so forcefully what happened, that I have to grab Frank's shoulder to steady myself.

"Annabeth…" I sigh.

A miserable expression shadows Frank's face. "Hey," he says quietly, "you go to the mess hall and I'll look after her until you come back, all right?"

I turn the idea over in my head. While I don't want to leave Annabeth, I think a while out of this room would help. I wouldn't feel so…horrible.

"Yeah," I croak, "Yeah, okay."

Without waiting for a response, I shuffle out of the room. The fresh air greets me, dancing around in my lungs. The sense of dread slowly recedes, and possibilities seem brighter. I stand taller and make my way to the mess hall, looking forward to the plush recliners after a night on an old, rickety wooden chair.

The _Argo II _is sailing down the Mediterranean, towards the Atlantic Ocean, towards home. The waters of this sea are so different than in the States. There is so much history hidden in every drop, that it makes the sea come alive. It is a brilliant blue, reflecting the clear sky. The salty ocean spray flicks onto my face, instantly making power surge through my body. The air is tangy and smells strong. I smile contentedly; I've always loved the smell of the sea.

With a new spring in my step, I walk down the hall, up a few stairs and into the mess hall. The door creaks open to a silent room. The smell of freshly made bacon wafts up my nose. The rest of the seven sit around the table, silent. It seems too quiet, too serene. Except, there's that tension in the air, the unwanted anticipation that appears when you're just waiting for the bad news to come. And it's like somebody just switched my internal lights off again.

Hazel lifts her head as I walk in, anticipation etched in the crease of her eyebrows.

"How is she?" Her words ring through the air, upsetting the calm and heightening the worry.

Images flash in my mind and I am sucked back in time.

_The thud wasn't really that loud, but it felt like I had just witnessed the most deafening explosion the world had ever seen. It was sickening, a dull crack, sending hairline fractures right into the deepest crevices of my heart. My world was flipping over as I saw the color drain out of her skin. The brush of her hair still tickled my fingertips, soft and faint, like a fading memory, present in every part of you, but only just, slowly slipping away. The shocked breath she inhaled as she hit the ground still lingered in the air, a poisonous gas that was constricting my lungs. Her eyes were still open, wide and shocked. The gray orbs stared right at me, not really seeing anything. It hurt more than a sword to the heart. I heard my friends' paused breaths; the shock lay in the air like a ticking bomb, just waiting to explode. She took loud, choking breaths, in, out, in, out. I tried to do the same. In, out, I told myself, in, out. Even though the fall had caused a lot of damage, that was nothing compared to the monstrosity on her torso. I wanted to run and hide in a box to get away from the injury, away from a still Annabeth. In, out, in, out, I screamed at my short-circuiting brain. It caused too much pain, too much guilt. I felt like all the negativity in the world was closing in on me, crushing down on my sanity and yelling whispers about everything that I didn't want to hear. In, out, in, out. I saw her mouth open slightly and immediately felt grateful for movement, _something_. _

_ "Perce," she mumbled, her voice like cracked china. _

_ In, out, in, out. It tore me up me to see her like this, so fragile, so broken. Where was the Annabeth that would battle the worst monster Tartarus could conjure without breaking a sweat? Where was the Annabeth that crossed her arms and stubbornly refused to not be challenged? _

_ "Snap out of it." Even half unconscious, she was stern, and I saw a little of Annabeth again. _

_ Then I realized that my vision was misty, and everything kept falling and spinning. It felt like I was stuck in a rotating circle that kept tossing and throwing me around, and every direction was down. I shook my head and picked Annabeth's cold body up from the rocky floor, bridal style. Without wasting another moment, I speed walked back to the ship. In, out, in, out. Step after step, in, out, in, out. _

I grab the doorframe for support. Hazel looks at me with big, brown concerned eyes. I stare back, uncertain and dizzy.

"Percy?" She asks softly, "You okay?"

All the energy drains out of me and I want to slump onto the floor and just lay there till I become wrinkled and dusty.

"No," my voice is barely a whisper, a lost trail of emptiness.

"Sit down," Hazel breathes back. She places a hand on my back and another on my arm as she half drags me to a chair. I lean my head back and get lost in a daze. Piper has to force-feed me a jam donut, some orange juice and a piece of toast. I only swallow it because she uses charmspeak on me, and though I could resist if I tried, I know I should eat the food. I look away from the rest of them because I cannot stand the sympathy that is present in their eyes. I cannot bear the anxiety in their voices, cannot look at or think about anything. So instead, I stare at the pictures of Camp Half-Blood being displayed on the wall in front of me, missing home.

It's only when Frank bursts open the door and says a few meaningless words with the most important mixed in them that I am alert. I fly out the door as soon as he says _Annabeth. _

My heart races as I fling myself blindly to the sick bay. I trip and stumble and nearly crack my head open, but I don't slow down. The small door comes into view as I turn the last turn. As if acting on a sudden impulse, I pull the brakes. I do not even know what Frank asked me to do. What if…what if she's awake? Panic builds up in my throat. How will I look at her with all the guilt inside of me? I won't be able to stand the disappointment in her voice. I have failed her, and that is a thought I cannot bear. I almost run away, try to hide in a dark corner where no one will find me, when I hear Annabeth's voice. It sounds younger, less battle-worn. _You're a coward Percy Jackson! _The words play in my head again and again and again. She had screamed them at me, before the Titan War, back at Camp Half-Blood. And that is when I know she will hate me if I back away now. I have to face it, I have to face Annabeth. I drag my body forward with all the energy I have left. The smell of cinnamon wafts into my nose, awakening every receptor as I walk into the sick bay.

The first thing I see is her hair, looking like strands of pure gold. It lies about her head, making it look like the sun itself is behind her skull. Each string of sunlight sits in perfect curls, and she looks like a true sleeping beauty. Except she isn't sleeping anymore.

"Percy?"

Her voice travels in waves around the room, bouncing off walls, interrupting the silence. All I can do is stand there. I feel useless once more, just like I did when it happened.

"Percy," she whispers again. "Talk to me, please."

The only thing that is real is her voice, every beautiful note of it. I cannot move, cannot think. I am cloaked in a spell that has frozen my muscles, immobilized my whole body. And I hate it. I'm not strong enough to fight it. I hear the words again; the words that I am afraid are the truest statement that has ever been said. _You're a coward Percy Jackson! _

"Please," she pleads in desperation.

That's when something clicks. Annabeth, begging? No, no, no, that cannot happen. The anger and shock that enters me when I hear her pleading gives me the energy to break the spell. I imagine strong arms ripping through the horrible silence that separates Annabeth and I, and burst through it, running to her side.

I kneel next to her bed and caress her face. Her skin is warmer than before, and the thought reassures me. I feel my heart pumping hard; so hard that it rises up, sitting in my throat. She closes her eyes as my fingers brush against her cheek, pressing her face against my hand. I work my way up to her hair and comb through it with my fingers. The softness of it sinks into my skin and deep down to my heart, making it expand. Her breath hits my forearm, calm and subtle. A cold inhale, and a warm exhale, so steady, so sure. Annabeth was coming back, materializing from beneath the weak and frail girl I could not recognize. And suddenly, so shockingly, relief surges over me. I act on impulse and kiss her. Annabeth sucks in a breath as I my lips close on hers, but I don't stop. It feels so good, after worrying and longing for so much time. I place a hand on each of her cheeks, and she pushes deeper into the kiss. We break apart after what felt like a century of bliss.

"Annabeth," I gasp, my face only an inch away from hers.

"Yeah?" I can hear the strength slowly coming into her voice, returning to where it belongs.

I gulp. The nervousness is making my blood boil, erupting like powerful volcanoes in my body. "Annabeth, I-"

"Spit it out, Seaweed Brain." She says, her eyebrows creasing.

My breathing turns shallow. She hasn't sounded upset yet, but what if an apology will remind her that I am responsible for the bandages on her stomach? What if she will never want to speak to me again? I can't stand the thought, but I also won't be able to live with myself if I don't fess up now.

"I-" _Say it Jackson! _a voice in my head commands. "I'm sorry."

I wait for her eyes to turn steely and cold, I brace myself for the bitter silence that is about to come, because when Annabeth's mad, you need to be prepared or the horror of it might just knock you right over.

"Why?" she asks, looking genuinely confused.

I am not ready for this. She doesn't know why? But I can't explain, it would just hurt so much more. The whole room starts spinning, round and round and round. I'm going immensely dizzy, so I hold onto Annabeth. She is the only real thing, the only stable thing. My anchor to sanity. And now I might lose her for good.

"Y-you," I take a deep breath to steady myself. "You don't know?"

Her questioning look says everything. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods. I squeeze her hand so tight it turns red, but she doesn't complain, or even wince once. Holy Hephaestus, I love her so much. How do I tell her? She will hate me, I'm almost sure. Why wouldn't she? I would hate me. I can see Annabeth's eyes get that faraway look that they always take on when she's thinking. There's something new, though. Something I can't identify and it perplexes me because I thought I knew all of Annabeth's looks. It makes her eyebrows rise and her mouth open slightly. Her eyes lose the sharpness they usually bear. I am amazed; I have never seen Annabeth's eyes look…clouded. It takes me a moment, but I identify the look. Cluelessness. Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena is clueless. With this newfound information, that Annabeth can actually be unaware, I am tempted not to confess. She doesn't know, and if nobody informs her, she never will. The thought makes me despise myself. How can I be so selfish? So cruel? This is Annabeth, the love of my life, and if I don't tell her, I won't ever be able to look in a mirror again.

"Okay," I began, my hands quivering, "Okay."

"Just say it, Percy," she murmurs so softly I barely hear her. The tenderness in her voice takes me aback and the words come pouring out.

"It's all my fault." I whisper the words, afraid that the nonexistent wind will carry them away for all ears to hear. "I'm the reason you're hurt right now." Puzzlement flashes across her face, but now that I've started, I cannot stop. "Porphyrion rose and all I did was _watch_. I didn't try to help, didn't run to you and try to push down the giant! You got hurt and I just looked on like a completely useless, heartless, good for nothing person! And when I did run, I didn't run fast enough. I was so slow Annabeth. I was too slow to help you." I look at her, my vision blurry because there is something in my eyes that I'm desperately trying to hold back. A strange look washes over her face, one that I cannot quite identify at the moment, though it does look familiar. I turn my head down again, ashamed to be me.

"I'm sorry." My voice seems to trigger something inside Annabeth, since what comes next nearly blows me all the way to China.

A loud, free sound fills the room. It seems to brighten the light shining through the porthole, lighten the weight on my chest, and drive the shadows away. Surprise, no, _shock, _ripples through me. Annabeth's mouth is open wide, her eyes closed, and a look of hilarity on her face. What? This is not what I expected at all. Where is the cold, hostile look in her eyes I should be on the receiving end of? Where is the thick silence that is there when she is feeling icy? Where is my punishment?

My astonishment must be displayed clearly across my face, because she looks at me and stops her unexplainable actions.

"Why are you _laughing?_" I exclaim, frustrated that she isn't at least reprimanding me. The smile is wiped from her face.

"Because it's so ridiculous." She states it bluntly, all humor gone.

"Ridiculous? It's not ridiculous! I'm to blame, don't you get that?"

"It is ridiculous because it isn't your fault!" Her voice rises to match mine, and I'm getting slightly nervous as to where this will lead. I want to talk softer, show my crimes to her calmly, but I can't seem to stop the blood rushing to my head.

"How can it not be my fault? I could have saved you a lot of pain and tears if I just had an ounce of SENSE!"

"You do have sense Percy! You were just panicking! It happens to everyone."

"Yeah, well, it shouldn't happen to me! I should be protecting you, and I can't even manage that!" As soon as I say it, I wish I could take it back.

Annabeth's mouth goes thin, and her gray eyes go dark, like iron rather than silver. And when she speaks, her voice is dripping with cold venom.

"I am not some prize that needs to be protected. I can protect myself fine on my on, thank you very much." Waves of frost roll out of her mouth with each syllable, freezing my skin.

"Annabeth-" I begin, but she cuts me off.

"Just, please leave. I want to be alone." She turns her face away from me, showing that she does not want to talk.

"Annabeth, please, don't-"

"LEAVE!" she shouts, and her whole body quivers. Including her stomach. Blood rushes to her head and she gasps painfully. Fear clutches at my throat. She squeezes the sheets with her hands, her face tight with pain. I reach out with my arm in an attempt to console her, but she swats it away.

"Percy, just go. Let me be." Her voice catches on the last word, sounding broken. I am falling apart from the inside, each piece of the jigsaw slowly crumbling to dust. I want to stay by her side, help her trough the pain, but I respect her wishes. Bowing my head, I trudge towards the door, hoping to hear something. I listen sharply, looking for something to come from Annabeth's mouth. A gesture that will give me permission to run to her side, to hold her, be there for her. Silence. Nothing all the way to the door. I pull it open with a creak to find everyone aboard the ship staring at me, wide eyed. I don't show any signs of surprise, just keep walking down the hallway. Thoughts don't come in mind, nothing but blankness. The door to my cabin appears in front of me, a welcoming sight. As quick as I can, I flop onto my bed, because all I feel now is exhaustion.

…

I awake with guilt eating away at my heart. Except, it isn't for the reason it was for before. In my dreams, her words kept echoing again and again. _LEAVE! I want to be alone. Let me be. Just go. Please leave. _My head swims thinking of them again. I want to run to the sick bay, grab Annabeth and hold her in my arms so that she knows how sorry I am for thinking I needed to protect her. I want to believe that I didn't actually mean it, but I would be lying to myself. I do try to protect her. For some reason, I think that I need to keep her safe. But I'm also learning something new, she's strong enough to protect herself. I guess I've always known that, but I always push it in the back of my mind. And I can't find a reason for it. If I can't explain my actions to myself, how will I tell Annabeth? I've probably messed up so bad she will never forgive me. What if this is…the end? I mentally hit myself. No, I will not think like that. I've got to hope with every last bit of energy I have, because that's what being a demigod is all about, right? Right. I can't let everything fall apart right now, even though nothing seems clear, not with the tragedy the Fates are spinning my life into. The thing is, being a half-blood, you're reminded everyday that you most likely will die before adulthood, before you live out all your dreams. Soon enough the knowledge becomes a part of you, woven into your daily routine, and all you can do to delay that final breath is fight. Fight, fight, fight. But when it does come, the final breath, no one is prepared. You've kidded yourself into believing you're ready for it, but it isn't real, the possibility doesn't exist, not really, until it's staring you in the face, ugly and big and _right there. _

With that pleasant thought in my head, I lift myself from the bed and shuffle over to the bathroom.

The smell of breakfast greets me like it always does when I walk into the mess hall. My original plan was to drop by the sick bay first, but since my last visit, I want to give Annabeth some space. I see everyone seated around the table, but something surprises me. They're all smiling. There is laughter and joy and _fun _in the air. Something I haven't witnessed in a while, and, frankly, it seems like a foreign concept. I look for the cause of this sudden change in mood, but it finds me first.

"I was beginning to think you'd sleep till dinner, Seaweed Brain." I can hear the smile in her voice, and I wonder if she has forgiven me. I turn to face her, and she takes my breath away, like always. She looks so much better. That glow that is always on her face has returned, and her hair shines, healthy and strong. She looks happy, truly content, until I see her eyes. Her eyes are storm clouds. They thunder with fear of a kind I have never seen before in her. She is terrified beyond her limits, past panic, past nervousness. They ask a thousand questions, scream a hundred thoughts, and look completely…dead. I need to know what is bothering her. I don't care if she's mad at me, I'm her boyfriend and I deserve to know.

"Annabeth?" I say, "Can I talk to you for a second?" I gesture to the deck, and she gets my message. The same fearful look flashes across her face, but she hides it quickly. Not in time for me not to catch it though. Painstakingly slowly, she drags her chair back and stands. She makes her way over to me, and as soon as her back is to everyone else, the fake happiness drains from her face. And without knowing the reason, I want to stop whatever is causing it. I ask her with my eyes, questioning her miserable aura. She gives me a clear response, one that leaves me unsatisfied and itching to know: _wait. _When she approaches me, she places a hand on my arm and leads me towards the deck.

When we are standing underneath the open sky, she turns to me. I wait for her to say something, but she doesn't. The silence is threatening.

"Annabeth-"

"Percy-"

We stop and stare at each other. Annabeth and I just spoke in unison.

"Okay, that was weird." I say, stating the obvious. My heart is racing, and it feels like it is August again, and I'm asking my new girlfriend out on a first date.

"Yeah," she agrees, still looking out of it.

"What's bothering you?" I blurt out, anxious to make her smile again.

She looks surprised. "What's bothering me? Oh, um, well…"

I wait.

"Well, you see, I-"

I mime tapping an imaginary watch.

"Oh, stop it! It's just that-argh!"

I rotate my hand, motioning for her to go on. I know I'm being a total jerk, but it's too much fun to see her be the awkward one for once.

"Percy! I'm afraid you're going to break up with me, okay?" She huffs, and her face sags.

I feel a strange melting sensation spread through my body. Something softens, something hardens, and I don't know how or why or even what I'm doing next.

"What? Why would you be afraid of that?" I ask dubiously. The anger is already boiling up in me.

Annabeth looks at me, taken aback. "Because…I basically kicked you out yesterday! I didn't listen to what you had to say."

"You did not kick me out! I chose to leave by my own choice!"

She scoffs. "You left because you listened to me."

"Gods, Annabeth, stop thinking your word is law, okay? Because it isn't!"

"WHAT? Why would I think that? Why are you so mad anyways?"

I am about to reply back nastily, when I actually listen to what she said. Why am I so mad? "Because…" I think aloud. "Because you don't realize what a horrible person I am."

"A horrible person? How could you be a horrible person? You're anything but that." She says it like she doesn't understand.

"That's not true! I didn't come with you to get your sword, and when you needed to be treated immediately, I just stood and watched you, as if I couldn't move!" Annabeth tries to say something, but I raise a hand to signal that _I'm not done. _"And yesterday, I shouted at you when you were freaking hurt, Annabeth! Then I wounded your pride by saying I had to protect you. I lied, because I don't need to protect you! DON'T YOU SEE THAT I'M AN IDIOT?"

"Percy-" her voice sounds exhausted, but not yet angry enough. I need to show her my true self, she must know.

"I can't treat you well!"

"Percy,"

"All I do is bring you pain!"

"_Percy._" The sternness in her voce is what gets me to stop rambling. I look at her, red faced and frustrated.

"I love you." She whispers it so softly it could be whisked away into the air with a slight push. And it still hits me hard.

"Gods, I love you Percy. Stop trying to make me mad at you, because it's not going to work. You really aren't at fault for any of this. Accept it and move on, eh, Seaweed Brain?" Her voice is fragile, like a single blow will shatter it into a thousand pieces. There is something glittering in her eyes, threatening to spill.

Meanwhile, my heart is running a marathon in my chest. Its pumps are so deep and resonation that my brain rattles every time it goes _BOOM. _I can't think, my head is shaking, trembling, spinning. I am vaguely aware that there are five people gathered at the top of the stairs, staring right at us, Annabeth and I. Her face looks exhausted, and for the first time, I consider how much effort it must have taken her to even get up this morning. I spot a bulge under her shirt, around her torso that can only be the bandage. The pain is reflected in her eyes, shining with strain to keep from crying out. The calm, content mask she had on a few minutes ago has faded to a ghostly whisper of something that is entirely impossible right now. I really am an idiot.

Since I don't trust myself to speak, afraid that I will blurt out something that will damage us forever, I step forward and wrap my arms around her trembling body. After a moment, her arms snake around me as well. I bury my face in her hair, soaking in the delicious lemon scent. I am trying to be strong enough to hold the both of us, so that she knows I care. She nearly collapses on me, her arms going limp, I hold her up so that she won't fall.

She looks up at me with great big gray eyes, shining like the sun. Her perfect pink lips are slightly parted, warm breath pouring out of them. She sucks in a huge and painful breath and is about to speak when I hold a finger to her mouth. Her eyebrows shoot up, and her eyes widen, and then glance down at my finger.

"Sshh, quiet." I whisper, a small smile playing at my mouth. I smooth her hair with the hand that isn't holding her up, and she closes her eyes at my touch.

"I love you, too." I say, and she gasps, but it's so small that you can barely, hardly spot it. Her eyelids flutter open to reveal the beautiful orbs that have such a strong grip on my heart; I don't think I will ever break free. I know I don't want to. I sound all calm and confident, but on the inside, I am ready to pass out. Blood pulses through my veins alarmingly fast, running up and down and around my body. I think I am going to explode.

She doesn't speak, just keeps staring at me with this strange look. It looks deep and powerful and meaningful. Almost like longing. Her cheeks are tinted, but she still looks pale and ghostly. I adjust my hold on her, securing her in both my arms. She tries to hide it as a cough, but I see the grimace and hear the groan when her torso moves.

"Oh gods, Annabeth, are you okay?" There is a tremble in my voice I'm sure even the most oblivious of fools can hear.

"No?" She replies with a quiet and weak voice that rattles me to the bone. I place a hand on the backs of her knees and lift her. As I'm walking briskly toward the sick bay, with Annabeth in my arms, she keeps tracing a pattern on my chest. _I love you I love you I love you I love you. _And with every touch, I melt.

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**AN: If you viewed this before 21/07/14, all the formatting would have been showing. I don't know why, it's really weird. Sorry if you had to go through that nightmare. But, here it is, so I hope you enjoyed it and please leave a review!**


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Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Hurt-Comfort