Disclaimer- Unless Rick Riordan is a 16 year old girl, anything from the Percy Jackson series is not mine. Enjoy:D

I've wanted to be a soldier since before I can remember. I was never happier than when I was marching around the living room, in dad's old uniform, pretending I was leading my men into battle.

Now here I am, Private Perseus Jackson, out on patrol, in the scorching heat of Afghanistan. It's a battle to stay focused with each extra metre; the heat and our heavy gear make it almost impossible to keep going. We reach the compound, it's eerily quiet. We're all on high alert, watching for any movement. The shout goes up! Movement to my left, I twist towards it. Next moment I'm on the floor screaming. A bullet has ripped through my chest.

I was supposed to be indestructible. But, as only a shell of my former self, I know that was just a lie. Scars litter my body, joined like a path leading to the mangled piece of skin where the bullet hit. It ripped through me, burning as it burrowed its way towards my heart. I'm lucky they said. Lucky that the little ball of fire missed my heart. Lucky that it only made a small hole in my lung. Lucky that I'm still alive. I don't feel lucky though. My one goal, making my dad proud, has been snatched away from me. I still have Annabeth, I think. Annabeth, with her stormy grey eyes and long blonde princess curls, praying for me to heal. I tell her over and over not to worry, that I'm her hero. She laughs every time. Glancing at the plain white clock in the corner of my hospital room, she stands , showing her tall, athletic build off, kisses my cheek and tell me for the hundredth time that I'll be home tomorrow, before being ushered out the room by the witch-like nurse.

I return home, knowing that I'll never go back to the army. I'm okay with that, I suppose. Disappointment lingers in my sea-green eyes though, she sees it. I flash my classic cheeky smile, making her go weak at the knees. I sweep her off her feet, like they do in fairy tales, and carry her to our room.

We lie there, me staring at the ceiling joining the dots, and her tracing her crimson nails over my scars. 'What happened?' she whispers, curiosity and concern lining her voice. I ignore her question, like I've done to everyone else who has asked. I won't tell them, I can't.

'Percy, please.'

'I can't Annabeth, you don't need to know', I reply mentally begging her to stop. I'll tell her one day, when the wounds are healed. Time, that's all I need, and a little bit of love.

'I'm here for you, when you want to talk,' she reassures me. I know she's there, she loves me, she has since that summer.

We were twelve; I had just started at Camp Half-Blood. We went everywhere together, day trips, meals, activities, we were best friends. Then in our last year, at 16, she kissed me. For that we got dumped in the lake. To everyone else it seemed inevitable that we'd be together forever. But I never thought we'd be together eleven years after that kiss.

I'll marry her; I've been planning to for ages. That thought kept me going in that dusty landscape. I have the ring already, with a gorgeous deep blue sapphire on it. I just need the right moment. Soon, I think, as I drift off into my dreams.

She's gone! I wake up to an empty bed. I launch myself out of bed and down the stairs, skipping the last two steps, thinking they'll make a difference. After practically running the length of the house, towards the kitchen, I stop. I see her, dancing around the kitchen to an unknown song, in one of my old, faded, orange camp tops. Leaning against the doorframe, I watch. I run my hand through my messy black hair, trying to make it go flat.

I notice a lot about her by just standing here. I notice the way she swings her hips as she sings along to the radio on the windowsill, the way her princess curls look almost gold in the morning sunlight and the way she lightly makes her way around the room on her tip-toes, almost like a ballerina.

I stop watching, take three large, steady paces and wrap my arms around her tiny waist, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around.

'Good morning Wise Girl' I whisper into her neck, once she's back on her feet.

'Morning Seaweed Brain', she twists in my arms and delicately places a kiss on my waiting lips. We spin towards the heavenly smell that appears to be pouring from the frying pan. Pancakes, delicious! Blue orbs completely coated in chocolate spread and whipped cream. Don't question the blue colouring; it's a thing between us.

I take her out to dinner that night at her favourite Greek restaurant. She wears her stunning short crimson dress, which matches her nails. Holding hands we stroll towards the restaurant, laughing about everything. We go in, sit down and order. The whole time, the little black box in my pocket feels like its burning. Starter and main course done. I prepare myself to ask Annabeth to marry me. I stand quickly and walk over to her seat.

'Annabeth Chase,' I drop down onto one knee, 'Will you marry me?' I ask, showing her the ring. Nodding, she leaps off her chair and into my arms. I look into her eyes, see them glistening, and kiss her as though my life depends upon it. We break apart to hear thundering applause from the surrounding customers. As we leave and wander through Central Park, I know that I'm on the way to finding Perseus Jackson again.

Any Good? It's my first fanfic. Not sure if I should continue this or leave it. Any ideas? Review if you can please, it'll make me very happy. Thankyou:D

Love Carly3