Alright, so, as promised, here's another one-shot. I had it written out for a long time, but typing it up...that was a different story. But here it is, finally. It's different, bear that in mind. I don't really care if you don't like it or whatever, so there's no need to tell me. Because I like it, and that's what matters. However, if I made any mistakes, please tell me. But otherwise, enjoy this random little one-shot, and review afterward :)

Percy and Annabeth had had a fight. Not a light argument; those happened all the time, and their topics were absolutely trivial. They always ended with laughter too. No, this was a fight, the kind where Annabeth actually broke down into tears, which never happened, and Percy stormed from his apartment, looking positively murderous.

It had started when Annabeth had mentioned something about Percy having a superiority complex. He had narrowed his eyes and asked what that meant, and it had only escaladed from there. There had been an inevitable shouting match about said superiority complex and that Annabeth thought Percy played the 'tragic hero' card too often.

And now Percy was stalking down the streets of New York and into a place that he rarely ever went; a bar.

Within the hour, he was completely drunk. He leaned heavily against the counter top, swirling the contents of his glass absently. He'd been thinking about what Annabeth had said about him having a superiority complex, and his muddled mind was starting to think that maybe she was right. Ever since he had saved Olympus, he always wanted to be the one to fix everything. He even wished quite often that he had said yes to the offer to become a god, despite his relationship with Annabeth.

His invulnerability sometimes made him feel like he could do anything. But being invulnerable only meant that his body couldn't be injured. The same could not be said in regards to his emotions. That meant that when he thought he could fix something, tried, and failed, he played the 'tragic hero' card to try and get sympathy from his mom, or Annabeth.

Apparently Annabeth was sick of it. She said that he wasn't acting like himself, that maybe he had let the glory go to his head. Percy took a drink and sighed. She was right, of course. She always was. What sixteen year old wouldn't love to save the world. And what sixteen year old, after saving the world, wouldn't want just a little more glory? Apparently it got worse with age.

Percy let his thoughts wander their way back to Annabeth; the look on her face when he had left the apartment. He wondered if she'd still want to marry him. Probably not. He'd yelled at her and, in the process, he'd probably hurt her and their relationship beyond repair. Because he never yelled at her.

He leaned his head in his hand. How could he have yelled at her like that? She didn't deserve it, not in the least. If anyone did, it was him. He wished that she would have yelled back, hit him, anything but start crying.

His hand began to shake and his glass slipped from his grasp and went crashing to the floor, the shards of glass skittering away from his chair in a jagged circle. He ignored the bartender's angry shouts and, instead, crossed his arms on the bar and laid his head on top, feeling hot tears begin to spill down his cheeks. What would he do without Annabeth? He loved her more than anything. He was absolutely crazy about her. They were going to be married in less than a month. And now she may not ever want to see him again.

His head began to hurt as these thoughts constricted his heart, making it difficult for him to breathe. Without Annabeth, there would be nothing. He was certain of that. He ran frantic hands through his hair, already starting to formulate a plan for how he would rid himself of his pain forever if she really did leave him.

Then, as if he had inhaled a sudden breath of fresh air, he caught her scent moments before her hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up, and there stood Annabeth, her eyes red, a faint smile on her face.

"I thought I might find you here," she said quietly. Percy looked up at her and the only thought going through his mind was how shocked he was at seeing her standing in front of him.

Annabeth squeezed his shoulder gently. "I'm sorry, Percy, for what I said."

He shook his head, almost frantically. "It wasn't your fault," he said, slightly alarmed that she was apologizing at all.

Annabeth shrugged, looking like she was struggling with her words. Finally, she said, "Yes, it partially was. It's not up to me to state things like that in such an accusatory way."

"But," Percy protested, "what you said is all true. I'm a terrible person. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Annabeth crossed her arms. "Yeah, I won't argue with you on that one," she frowned at Percy's broken expression, "but I forgive you."

"You shouldn't," Percy stated immediately.

Annabeth looked at him in confusion. "You don't want me to?"

"I don't deserve it," Percy muttered, glancing at the bar, looking for a full shot glass.

"Percy," Annabeth whispered, placing a hand on his cheek and turning his head towards her, stopping his frenetic search. "Maybe you don't deserve it, but that's the beauty of forgiveness. You can receive it whether you deserve it or not."

He blinked up at her, and the expression in his eyes was illegible.

"And you don't need any more to drink," she admonished. "You didn't need any to begin with."

"I'm sorry," Percy said quietly.

Annabeth shook her head. "You are the strangest drunk ever. Most guys have a temper when they're drunk, but not you. You just sit here looking depressed and it's making me depressed too."

"I'm sorry," Percy repeated, looking up at her and sounding for all the world like a small child talking to his mother, knowing he did something wrong.

"Stop saying that," Annabeth said sharply. "You've apologized enough."

"I'm-" Percy caught himself.

"What am I going to do with you?" Annabeth asked, sighing. They were silent for a while, then Annabeth touched Percy's arm gently. "Percy, can we go home now? Those guys are leering at me."

Percy glanced over, finding the perpetrators. They were all grinning in Annabeth's direction. Percy instinctively grabbed Annabeth's hand. He got to his feet, albeit clumsily. "Alright, let's go."

They began towards the door, but were blocked by the three drunk, leering gorillas. They looked at Annabeth, ignoring Percy, who was glaring at them pretty fiercely for being drunk and supremely uncoordinated.

"Hey babe," the biggest slurred. "Why don't you ditch pretty boy here and let us show you a good time? He don't look worth it anyway," he said with a dismissive glance at Percy, who was slowly getting angrier, causing various glasses of water to begin bubbling.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes, a look of disgust on her face. "Not on your life," she spat, punching him in the face.

"Now don't be like that," Gorilla Number Two said, grinning and grabbing Annabeth's arm, ignoring the first guy, who was holding his cheek and swearing colourfully.

"Don't touch her," Percy said, his voice quiet but menacing. Annabeth wrenched her arm from Gorilla Two's grip and smirked.

"I wouldn't make him too angry, if I were you," she advised them.

"And what's he going to do?" asked Gorilla One, laughing despite his now swollen cheek. Annabeth just shrugged cryptically.

Gorilla Three advanced on Percy, cracking his knuckles. "This'll probably be painful," he said, grinning. However, before he even had a chance to throw a punch, Percy hand stepped forward, his drunkenness suddenly overtaken by adrenaline, and punched the guy in the face. Then, as he stumbled back, nose beginning to bleed profusely, Percy ran at him and kicked him, karate style, in the head twice. Gorilla Three fell to the ground heavily, unconscious.

The bartender ran over, yelling. "Hey! No fighting!" He glared at Percy.

Percy glowered back at him. "They were harassing my fiancé."

"Don't mean you could fight!" The bartender crossed his arms. "Get out, and take your girl with you."

Percy muttered something under his breath, then grabbed Annabeth gently and pulled her from the bar.

They were a block away when Percy's adrenaline rush wore off. He stumbled and Annabeth put her arm around his waist to support him, and they made their way thought the night time New York crowds back to Percy's apartment.

~*~

When Percy finally opened his eyes, he was lying on his bed in his apartment and his clock informed him that it was nine in the morning. He sat up and winced at the sudden pain in his head. He frowned when he realized that he was wearing a pair of jeans but no shirt. Percy left his bedroom in a bit of a daze. Something had happened the day before. He and Annabeth had had a fight, that's what it was. He'd gone to a bar, and from there he couldn't tell if his memories were real or a dream.

He stumbled into his little kitchen, but stopped mid step when he saw Annabeth at the counter, making coffee. "Annabeth?"

She turned around. "Percy. You're up." She smiled.

"Uh, yeah, I am," he said, clutching a hand to his head as the pain intensified for a moment. "What are you doing here?"

"Making coffee," Annabeth said.

"When did you get here?"

"Last night," Annabeth said casually, as if it really didn't matter.

Percy blinked. "You spent the night?"

"Yeah."

"Where did you sleep?"

"Your bed." Annabeth poured some coffee into a mug and handed it to him, along with some Advil.

"Thanks. Wait, what?" Percy frowned. "Alright, what all happened last night? I mean, after I knocked a guy unconscious. I'm pretty sure that happened."

Annabeth nodded. "It did. After that, we came here. Well, you were half unconscious, so I had to sort of drag you. But we got back, you took off your shirt, then collapsed on the bed, absolutely thrilling creature that you are." She rolled her eyes. "I changed into the pair of pajamas I keep in your dresser, went to bed, and here we are."

Percy shrugged in acceptance. "Alright." He wandered over to an armchair and collapsed in it. "I feel awful," he groaned, then took a sip of coffee, downing the Advil along with it.

Annabeth poured herself some coffee, then sat on the couch. "I can imagine. You drank a lot yesterday. Like, a lot."

Percy winced. "Yeah. Mental note never to do that again."

"Yeah, you'd better not," Annabeth said. "Or I dump your sorry butt. No wedding for Percy Jackson, Son of the Sea God." She leaned back against the couch and found herself staring, absently, at Percy's bare chest.

Percy sighed. "So you're still going to marry me? Even after all that stuff yesterday?"

"Of course, Percy. One fight isn't going to get the best of our relationship. But no more crap from you," she said threateningly, looking up from his chest to his eyes.

Percy nodded solemnly. "No more crap from me," he agreed.

"Good." Annabeth got to her feet and walked back to the kitchen. "Now go shower and brush your teeth. You smell like vodka or something, you know?" She wrinkled her nose.

"You know what vodka smells like?" Percy asked with a laugh, then a wince, before draining the rest of his coffee.

"No, I don't," Annabeth said defiantly. "And you'd better not either."

Percy winced. "Well...one time..."

"Perseus Jackson, just stop talking and go clean up before I get really mad!"

Percy nodded and, leaving his empty mug on the coffee table, went hurriedly back to his room. Before closing the door though, he stopped.

"Love you," he called.

"Suck up!" Annabeth replied, but after the bedroom door closed, she whispered, a smile on her face, "Love you too, Percy."