Ago Vitam (To live life):

Besides his family, what does he have to live for? Percy's speculated this too many times as the battle with Kronos draws nearer and nearer. He rolls on his side, facing the wall. Should he live? What was the point of him living? He was just a pawn for the Gods; being used and used again. For a moment, he can see Luke's perspective. Why he felt betrayed. Why he joined Kronos. But the feeling immediantly fades because he would never do something like that. He may be being used, but at least he was being used for the good of civilization and humanity. Luke was still being used, but for evil. Couldn't he see that?

What was worth living for?

Percy blinks, fed up with the mental debate inside his head.

Percy is familiar with insomnia, but tonight he knows that even if he didn't have a severe case of the annoying sleep disorder, he wouldn't get any rest tonight anyways. Tomorrow was war. Tomorrow people would die because of him; he could die. For the first time ever, a monster isn't the enemy. Time is. Which is ironic considering Kronos is the lord of time, and that synopsis makes it worse. Percy nearly laughs at the connection, and when a laugh does slip out of his cracked, salty lips (from crying) it's hysterical. Broken. He can't do this. He can't do this. Why did everyone follow him? Why did all the campers look up to him, why did they think he was some kind of hero? Percy is not a hero, not in the very least. He just simply did what he had to do to keep Grover alive. To keep Nico and Thalia alive. To keep Rachel alive, to keep his brother Tyson alive. To keep Annabeth breathing. To make sure that when her grey eyes close that they would eventually open. His stomach churns in anxiety, in betrayal at the mental mention of the daughter of Athena. She had distanced herself from Percy when he needed her most. He knows the reason why. Luke. He has to kill Luke, and Annabeth hates him for it. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't she see that he hurt her, backstabbed her? The traitor nearly killed her for Zeus' sake! For someone so intelligent, she was so blind. Why was it his fault? Why was everything always his fault? He doesn't want to kill Luke, but a part of him does. The protective, enraged part that snips and sneers about how he had hurt her beyond repair.

He doesn't want to feel so malevolent, but Annabeth- he hurt her. Why can't she see that? Why can't she see that Percy is the one who protects her, he's the one that has been there for her, he's the one that lov-

No. He can't love her. Not now. Not when he needs to shield his emotions to be able to kill Luke. Maybe afterwards he could love her, even though she would hate him for killing Kronos. There wasn't a Luke anymore, not that he could see. Or was it just envy that was blinding him?

Chiron had told him earlier that heroes become different after the war. Angry. Evil. Crazy even from people who had died, from the mental scars of war, from getting tortured or hurt. He won't be like them, he promised. But Percy didn't mention to Chiron that the only way that could happen is if Annabeth...he shudders at the possibility.

There's a low, timid knock at his door, and he shivers in fear. Was it already time to go to war? He's scared. Percy Jackson is afraid. All he wants is one more year, one more month, one more week, even one more day. But life isn't fair, and it doesn't take a genius to figure that out. Percy's darkened green eyes glaze to the ceiling, stretching his body out, flexing his fingers. Another knock. This time it's more firm, nearly panicked. He sighs and decides he has to answer it before the mysterious disturber wakes the entire camp up in panic. He considers pulling on a shirt, because all he has on is pajama pants, but he figures that he has worse problems on his mind than attires. Hesitantly he pulls the door open, and is more than shocked by who he sees standing on the cabin porch.

Her blonde curls are messy; as if they were hastily tied into a ponytail and half the hair didn't make it into the band. Her grey eyes look stormier than usual, and the edges around them are rimmed with red. Her expression is somber, and the only thing she has on over rather short shorts and a baggy t-shirt that reached her knees is an overly big jacket (probably borrowed from her half-brother Malcolm) that she shivered against.

"Annabeth?" His voice is incredulous, and he suspects his green eyes are wide with surprise. That's when he notices it- that's why Annabeth is wearing such a strange outfit for August. It's freezing. "The camp borders."

He can see her visibly swallow. "They're weakening. I think it's because the presence of Kronos is increasing." They sit in a silence for a moment, although it isn't awkward. It's as if they're both swept up in chilling fear. Annabeth clears her throat after another few moments. "Are you going to invite me inside, Seaweed Brain? It's freezing."

Percy feels like kicking himself for not realizing how pale she looked sooner, and immediately pulls her inside into the warmth of his cabin. He shuts the door, and Annabeth sighs in relief, tugging off her jacket and hanging it on the post that Percy rarely ever uses. He wishes she hadn't; he can make out her curves in those shorts that are way too short in Percy's opinion, when in reality they're not, and the only thing covering her tanned skin is a t-shirt. It may be baggy and lengthy, but he can still see her recent...developments. He blushes, feeling like a pervert. She's his best friend, and friends shouldn't be having thoughts like...like that. Percy shouldn't be staring at her long, tan legs. He shouldn't be admiring how curvy she is. He most certainly be checking out his best friend.

"Why are you hear, Annabeth?" He questions firmly after he collects himself. The daughter of Athena shrugs, but he can see her cheeks tinting to a marvelous shade of red.

"You may want to...um, put on a shirt." Percy's cheeks flush again, finally realizing that he's shirtless. If it was any other day, he would tease her asking her if he was distracting her. But this wasn't any other day, was it? He tugs on the first shirt that he sees, facing Annabeth afterwards.

Her eyes are on the floor, then they slowly flicker up to Percy. "Can I stay here for tonight? I-I don't want to be alone." A tear escapes her eye and she brushes it away. Percy doesn't think twice before pulling her into his arms, wrapping them around her protectively and holding her as she cries. His shirt collar begins to soak with her tears, and she sobs into the crook of his neck.

It's like last year, when she flew into his arms, scared of losing Tyson, Grover, and him. Only it was different. Much different. Annabeth wasn't this broken-down, and Percy didn't really know how to touch her without offending her. How things change.

"What's wrong?" He asks, even though he knows it's a stupid question.

"What isn't?" She chokes out, and he runs his fingers through her tangled curls. "I'm scared, Percy. I don't want tomorrow to come. I don't want to see our friends die, I don't want...I don't want to lose...you."

He pulls away from her abruptly, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He bites his lip so roughly that for a second he thinks that he'll break skin. Percy's eyes narrow in a look of frustration, but not anger. Puzzlement overweighs the betraying feeling that presses down on his chest. "I don't understand. You ignored me, Annabeth. You didn't talk to me all year. And now you're saying that you care about me?"

Her expression contorts from sorrow to a look of utter disbelief and slight anger. "Of course I care about you, Percy Jackson! How could I not? We've been through everything together! I-I'm sorry about isolating myself; that's on me. But I needed time to accept things. I needed time to..." her voice trails off, and her gaze slip from him to the fountain that was glowing ominously in the room. His knees seem to buckle slightly, and his arms tremble as waves of emotions crash over him. Anger, resentment, guilt, betrayal, sadness.

"To what?" Percy snaps, continuing her sentence cynically. "To accept the fact that I have to kill Luke?"

Despite Annabeth's weak state, Percy knows that just because she's crying doesn't mean that she'll take that. Her eyes blur with tears and they narrow in anger. She throws up her arms in a mixture of different emotions, and she wraps her arms around Percy's neck. "It was never about Luke, you idiot!"

Percy's anger dispatches, and his muscles relax. His eyes are wide; perplexed and baffled. "Then...who?"

"It was always about you."

Percy can feel his heartbeat accelerate and spike, and he prays to the Gods that she can't hear it. "Oh." Annabeth laughs forcibly, brokenly at his Seaweed Brain answer, more tears beginning to fall down her face. She presses her seemingly frozen body against his, and Percy wipes the remaining tears from her eyes with his index finger.

"I was confused. I know now that I shouldn't have done that. I thought that if I was around, I was just an obstacle to you. A problem that you had to deal with." She looked vulnerable, completely defenseless. Percy's worries about her wane, but not completely fade. Annabeth has never been truly honest with anyone before. She never let people know what she was thinking, feeling. She was scared of spiders as much as she was afraid of showing weakness.

He shook her shoulders gently, but their grip on each other didn't decrease. "Let's get one thing clear; I never thought that. When you were gone, I was completely lost. I need you to get through this, Annabeth. I can't do this without you."

"I can't lose you, Percy."

"I won't leave you, Annabeth. I promise."

Her voice wavers mid-sentence. "Don't make promises you can't keep. Just promise me you'll try not to die, okay?"

A small smile forms on the son of Poseidon's face. "I promise."

He doesn't remember getting into bed, but it happens, Annabeth coming along with him. His arms are wrapped around her waist, Annabeth's forehead resting on his. They're eyes are burning into each others, the digital clock beside the bed counting down the minutes before Percy's most-likely death. His fingers subconsciously trace patterns on Annabeth's ribs, and a gasp escapes her lips during the process. He ceases, knowing that he kept doing that it would lead to much more, and he isn't ready for that. Percy can't do that, not before they might all perish in the hands of the Titan lord.

"Percy?" She whispers, and he tucks a strand of hair from her face and gently lets it rest behind her ear.

"Yes?"

"I don't want it to happen. I just wish we could have another day. Just one more." His chest constricted, and he had to fight back the urge to cry. He couldn't fall apart, for her sake. Annabeth was terrified as it was, and he didn't want to let her know that he was afraid. She knew, but that didn't mean he wanted to show it.

"Me too. But we can't." Her eyes cloud with sorrow and he kisses her gingerly on her forehead. Annabeth shuts her eyes at his touch, a single tear escaping and cascading down the middle of her cheek. He expects her to open her eyes sooner or later, but when she doesn't and her breathing transforms from ragged and hoarse to steady, he realizes she had fallen asleep. He pulls the majority of his blanket from him onto her, covering her completely. Percy wishes he could shelter her, hide the truth. He wishes that she could be ignorant to the concept of word. He longed to protect her, but he can't. Not from something as inevitable as this. All he can do is be there for her. All he can do is be strong for her. All he can do is win. He has to win. He has to live- for Annabeth.

He brushes more strands of hair that hung across her cheekbones-making a thick, honey-blonde colored curtain- and placing them behind her ear and away from her face. The lines of care and toil had smoothed and almost disappeared. Her eyelids closed against the dim light of dawn and her breathing deep and relaxed, all the muscles in her face and body were totally at peace. He smiles, tucking her into his chest even more. Not a twitch, not a spasm, barely any movement of her breasts rising and falling with each intake of air such was the depth of her oblivion. If he stares at her long enough, he can make out the twelve-year-old girl he had met four years ago. Her stress lines gone, worries evaporated, he can see the innocent, know-it-all kid who longed for more than anything to go on a quest. That light inside of her was nearly gone, but it was still there.

Besides his family, what does he have to live for?

Sooner or later, he would lose them. Whether it be by old age, or by a monster attack, he would lose them. Every single one of them. His mom, Nico, Thalia, Rachel, Grover, Juniper, Silena, Chiron, Paul, Silena, Travis, Connor- everyone. Beckendorf had already died attempting to save his sorry-ass.

Wouldn't it just be easier to let Kronos kill him?

What does he have to live for? He's so tired of fighting Kronos. He's so exhausted of swimming against a current that would never let him rest.

"I promise you," he whispers to the slumbering Annabeth Chase. "I'm going to live. I'm going keep on fighting. Because you're something worth living for."