A/N: A thought that came from nowhere, because really, it seems odd to be that this would never be covered.
Annabeth alone would progress. The others – they'd live forever. Or forever, perhaps, is too general a term. They would surely surpass her though, their lives spinning beyond hers.
The Fates would cut her strings years before they would cut her friends'; she would be long gone by the time they road the River Styx.
They were immortal. Maybe not in the traditional way, but that was more or less the result.
Thalia would see their descendents' birthdays, Annabeth knew. Yes, she could die in battle, but there was a small chance of that occurring. She would see times that were beyond Annabeth's imagination, and most days, Annabeth was happy for her friend.
Sometimes though, it seemed like a curse. Immortality. Unnaturally long life. Either way, Annabeth did not think she would wish it. Percy's declination of it was the moment she was most proud of him.
It was the greatest ultimatum ever to plunge to earth, and thank the gods it vanished quickly. Forever was synonymous with deformed.
However, Percy was still invulnerable. He would outlive her, nearly without a doubt. How could he die, after all? Old age. And yet, Annabeth's more slender string could be cut by so much more. Fire, water, stone. They were all dangers to her almost-mortal life. So yes, she would surely leave him behind on Earth's arched back.
Once again, Annabeth felt it was a blessing. She would never have to worry of Percy's death; she would never have to worry of abandonment. She might die first, but it was a small price to pay for such a grand relief.
Her other friends, they would also exceed her with their days. Nico was a son of Hades, Grover was a Satyr. They were each different in their short escape from the inevitable, but Annabeth was still the first to go.
She had no alibi, no excuse. She was mortal, without strings attached. There was nothing about her to earn her any extra years, and secretly she was glad.
The freedom of forever was a line she never wished to cross. Nico, Grover and Percy – she was always grateful that their lives would end one day. It was too hard, too endless to withstand forever. To be the last one, watching everyone fall behind you? She was glad that Thalia had her huntresses at least, but it still seemed too hard. It was not worth it, not even a little bit.
Annabeth was glad to be the first. She would be old, just as she hoped, and she would peacefully make the transition. Her friends would all be around her, purely because they could be. She would never have to know their group with a piece missing; she would never have to see them slowly crumble.
And most of the others would follow. Their lives were longer, yes, but not quite long. It would be a countable distance until they joined her.
The gods, they've always had such a burden to bear. Forever. It was never a question, just a part of their position in the sky. Perhaps it was why they looked down on their kin; they were jealous. They were jealous of the end, however simple it might have been. They wanted their children's gift of death.
The wise one. They'd said that about Annabeth, and she smiled thinking they might be right. She understood the gift that the gods had bestowed years ago, and she knew enough now to appreciate it. Even at her father's funeral, years later, when she had children of her own, she knew enough to feel grateful. He was lucky to die; they all were.