AN: This is more like a Soulmate canon-divergence then an actual AU. But that would have made the summary sound a little weird, so…AU it is.
This is just a world where Aphrodite or Cupid or whoever gave everyone a soulmate.
WARNING: Mentions of blood is the reason I gave this a T rating, with major character death ahead. If you're not into that kind of thing, then I'd recommend you skip.
Please enjoy!
Hey. Stay with me just a little while longer. Please?
Annabeth had always known she was going to die early. Not only because she was a demigod (though that was probably one of the reasons she was going to die early), but because of the words splayed over her heart.
Sure, it could be the last wish of her beloved before she died at the ripe old age of eighty, but demigods just don't live that long. It was a fact, especially the ones with their deaths already signed.
Many people didn't like to share their soul-words, Annabeth included. Who would like talking about the last thing one's soulmate would ever utter to them?
The only person she ever knew who was open about their soul-words was Luke, but then Thalia died. Her last sentences, "Go on ahead! I've got this! You can trust me!" weren't even close to the words over his heart. He never talked about them again. He was just like everyone else in that aspect.
Of course, Annabeth knew of a few others' soul-words, too. There will always be incidents in the locker room (We had a good life together, yeah? was the sentence on Clarisse la Rue's skin), the accidental piece of clothing being whisked away in the water while the naiads were playing (Hello, Travis Stoll! Nice to meet you!), even just sharing a cabin is enough (Malcolm had a simple Goodbye. Forever. over his heart).
Only three–well, two–people knew about Annabeth's soul-words, and this was a number she was determined to keep. After she walked in on Drew Tanaka changing and learned that someone could have no sentences over their heart, she started pretending that she didn't have any, either.
Her soul-words were a desperate plea to a young woman with a lot more to live for, but no time to live. She was going to die young. That was a fact. The fact.
A lot of people in this camp cared for her, and she cared for them in return. They would be devastated to know she was going to pass away in a matter of days, weeks, months, years. Soon.
So she kept up her nonchalant shrug and told them that she would never get to meet her soulmate when they asked.
No one guessed that her clock was ticking fast, even when she picked up a sword and shield and trained until she threw up.
If she was going to live a short life, she was going to make it damn well memorable.
;
Told you I'd protect you.
Percy had always known his soulmate was going to die before him.
His mother told him that he was lucky to have a soulmate that cared a great deal for him. The words splayed over his heart were the ones whispered after one takes a bullet for him, not the ones boasted after a person drives a knife in his back. (Just because you're soulmates, doesn't mean you're in love.)
But it freaked him out, because he doesn't want his soulmate to give their life up for him. He's not worth it, really.
Many people told him it was a good thing, because many of them do have words of betrayal over their hearts.
Smelly Gabe wasn't Mom's soulmate, though. Percy was sure of it. Even though he knew that soulmates were capable of despicable things, his mom deserved better.
He stood up to Smelly Gabe. If his soulmate could make the ultimate sacrifice for him, he could take a couple hits for his mom.
;
Clarisse met Chris, and Malcolm met Pollux. Annabeth was sure the two pairs were soulmates, though she guessed she would never live long enough to find out. Travis met a mortal at his school, but she ran off before they could converse farther than his soul-words. Her face was all over the news the next day; a victim of overdose.
And Annabeth? Annabeth met Percy. He startled her, with his friendship with Luke and with her and his parentage and the way he could make her blood boil and her heart race at the same time.
By the time they're thirteen she had a sinking feeling that he's her soulmate, but still, she looked him straight in the eye, shrugged, and told him she would never get to meet hers.
;
Annabeth swore on the River Styx to protect him, once. A shot of panic and a string of "could she be?" went through him.
But then he remembered that she doesn't have any soul-words, and he released a heavy breath. He's glad Annabeth isn't his soulmate. They could have made it work, he supposes, in a different life with different words over both of their hearts, but in this life, he's content with knowing that she won't die because of him.
Until he walked in on her mid-change. He skipped right into the Athena cabin, ready to boast about how he finally bested Clarisse sword-to-spear, but her shirt is in her hands and not on her body.
She quickly tugged on her shirt and he spun on his heel, covering his eyes for good measure.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to that was completely inappropriate of me–"
"You're good. You can turn around now."
And he did. Even though Annabeth gave him the go-ahead to look, her face was still as red as the sports bra she was wearing and–oh my god shut up you dumb fourteen-year-old brain.
He cleared his throat. "I…thought you said you didn't have soul-words."
"What?" She looked surprised. "Wh-what are you talking about? I don't have soul-words."
"Annabeth. You had your shirt off. I-I saw them–your soul-words, I mean."
"Oh." Her shoulders dropped, and she wrapped her arms around herself. "You did, huh?"
He nodded. "Why do you tell people you don't have them?"
"They're–uh–they're bad, Percy. Whatever relationship my soulmate and I will have…it's going to end with me getting hurt. And, you know, never speaking to them again."
Percy understood right away–Annabeth's one of those people, the ones that would tell him his soul-words were a blessing. And now, he understood those people. If Annabeth went to such great lengths to hide her soul-words, whatever was going to happen between her and her soulmate would not end well.
"Well," he said, offering a grin, "I'll be there to help you back on your feet, yeah?"
Annabeth looked away, brooding for a moment, before turning back to him with a weak smile. "Yeah."
;
After that fateful day when a fourth person learned her secret, Percy and Annabeth grew closer. They paired up for training exercises and helped the other if they're (mainly Percy) on kitchen duty. He let Annabeth read her big textbooks to him and she gave his comic books a chance. She's invited to his house all the time so that they can share secrets and have sleepovers next to the fire.
Percy checked on her every time a new person came to camp, just in case she suspected they're her soulmate. He tried to get her to talk about love and soulmates and that kind of thing, but that's the one topic she refused.
He gave her a thumbs-up from where he's talking to some new Aphrodite kid named Michael, making sure he wasn't her soulmate.
Annabeth never even considered the idea, but she waved back anyway.
She looked back down at the page, though she wasn't reading anymore.
She thinks she might be in love with Percy. She thinks he might be her soulmate.
;
"Just like old times, huh, Percy?" Annabeth grunted as she slammed her shield into the face of a hellhound before driving her dagger into its eye.
"Sure." He laughed, but then stopped laughing, because he needed all his breath to decapitate this next dracaenae.
"Do not have such arrogance, little demigod," Kronos taunted, close enough for both of them to hear, but not for any of them to take a swing at each other. He continued his leisurely stroll towards them. "It will be your downfall."
Percy slammed the flat of his sword into a demigod's temple, effectively knocking her out, and drove his sword through another half-blood's arm. The wound not deadly enough to kill (if the girl were to get medical attention), just enough keep her from using one of her arms for her heavy, two-handed spear.
The demigod looked so much like Beckendorf (though, if he had to guess, the girl was probably one of Clarisse's or Annabeth's siblings) that he hesitated. She picked up her spear with a battle cry, but Annabeth, obviously getting impatient, came from around him and thrusted forward. Her knife plunged into the demigod's chest.
Annabeth didn't wait to see how the body slumped to the ground. "I know you want to save them, Percy," she said in response to his gape, throwing her shield at a dracaenae behind him, Captain America-style, "but next time, don't hesitate." She gave him one last look before catching her shield and returning to his back.
He took a single moment to stare down at the deceased demigod. Her helmet had fallen off. Glassy gray eyes stared back up at him and curly brown hair lay in a bloodied puddle on the pavement, and he recognized it as Annabeth's older sister, the one named Emma. She had a girlfriend who she had followed to the other side. Was the last thing Emma's girlfriend said to her inked on the skin over her heart?
He always wondered how Annabeth could do that–distance herself from other people's lives. They'd gotten in an argument the first time she'd killed a demigod in his presence.
She had explained that, being a daughter of Athena, her mind, her body, her entire being was built for war, and in war, there were casualties. You could either choose the casualties to be on your side, or theirs. She said she chose to keep her friends alive, and that meant distancing yourself from the other army as much as possible.
Then he'd bitten out something about Luke and neither of them spoke about it again.
He shoved his elbow into the snout of a hellhound trying to take his arm off, and slashed through another snake lady. He and Annabeth inched their way through the battlefield, bringing down monster after monster, almost until they were at the middle of the bridge. Dark shapes flew over them, and Percy saw Blackjack swooping down to kick a dracaenae in the face. The snake lady fell over, taking a few of her sisters down with them, several of them turning to dust.
Percy swung his sword in a deadly wave, killing at least two hellhounds. He really didn't have the time to count.
A shiver ran down his spine, like he could feel the Fates of the future dancing on his grave. Annabeth cried out in pain.
"Annabeth!" He turned around quickly, not caring as a hellhound tried to bite his shoulder. Annabeth fell to her knees in front of him, in slow motion, clutching her side. A demigod stood over her, his knife the same color as the blood that spilled onto the pavement.
In a flash, Percy understood what happened. The demigod had been trying to stab him. Judging by the position, he would've stabbed him in the small of his back–maybe out of sheer luck, maybe Kronos knew his Achilles' Heel. Annabeth had tried to get her shield up to defend him, but the angle hadn't been right for that, and she'd jumped in the way.
Annabeth just saved his life.
But why? She didn't know Percy's weak spot. Nobody did.
Percy easily recognized the enemy demigod by the eyepatch under his bronze helmet: Ethan Nakamura, son of Nemesis. Somehow he'd survived the Princess Andromeda, which made Percy all the more infuriated. He slammed Ethan in the face with the hilt of his sword, not caring about the sizable dent he left in his helm.
"Get back!" Percy screamed, slashing the air in a wide arch. He took out another dracaenae, while the demigods were smarter than the snake lady and jumped out of reach. "No one touches her!"
"Interesting," Kronos said.
He had finally chosen to approach them. He towered over Percy on top of his skeleton horse (Annabeth was closer in height to Kronos than he was, but it was totally the skeleton horse), his scythe in one hand. He studied the scene with narrowed eyes, his body relaxed as if he didn't care if Percy came charging at him.
"Bravely fought, Percy Jackson," Kronos said. He brandished his scythe easily in a show of power and pointed it at Annabeth. "But it's time to surrender…or the girl dies."
"Percy, don't," Annabeth groaned, but those two words already had blood dribbling down her chin. She had to get out of here.
"Blackjack!" Percy yelled.
He quickly scooped up Annabeth. He deflected a blow from a demigod, and when he moved his arm to strike, something clamped on the back of his shirt and lifted him into the air.
At first he thought it was Kronos picking him up like a kitten, but then Blackjack panted into his mind, Don't worry, Boss. I got ya.
Below, Kronos screamed in rage. Percy looked just in time to see the bridge start to crumble from the impact of him slamming the butt of his scythe into the ground.
Porkpie swooped down under Blackjack. He gave Percy footing so that he could swing himself and Annabeth onto Backjack's back. Percy capped Riptide and glanced down at the battlefield.
The Apollo cabin was well on their way to escaping, mowing down the monsters in their way. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like the blond mass was still had about the same numbers as they did before the start of the battle. He sighed in relief.
"Go help them," he told Porkpie. The pegasus dipped his head in understanding, shooting down toward them like a bullet, and Percy turned his attention to Annabeth.
She was shivering and pale. Her shirt was drenched in red and more of it bubbled out of her mouth. Blackjack hit an air current, and she sputtered and choked on her own blood from the shock.
"Hey, hey, shh. It's okay," he soothed, wiping her mouth. Try to be a little more careful.
You got it, Boss.
Percy wiped more blood from her chin. She just needs a doctor. She'll be fine. She has to be. She has to.
Apparently, his thoughts were louder than he thought. Blackjack replied to him: Is…is she really gonna be okay, Boss?
"She has to be," he said, determined, but his hands shook with panic.
He peeled off his shirt and pressed it to her side, to which she groaned and actually vomited this time. It seemed to clear her throat a little, because she mumbled out, "Damn. This hurts."
"I bet." He chuckled with no humor behind it. She's going to be okay. She has to be. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Why…Why did you do it? I'm invulnerable, remember?"
She shrugged, then groaned as it stretched the wound on her side. "Don't know. Had…a feeling that you were…in danger."
Of course she did. She's his soulmate, he realized. She has to be. There would be no other reason why she knew, why she was the one who pulled him out of the River.
It didn't surprise him, really. He'd always known, in a sense.
He kissed her forehead. He wanted to kiss her on the lips, but that would cut off her airway. "You saved my life, you stupid, heroic, soulmate of mine," he admitted. She didn't seem surprised by the whole soulmate thing, either. Her lips ticked upward into a smile, and he had a feeling she had known. "Ethan…He would have stabbed my Achilles' Heel if you hadn't jumped in the way. I would have died."
Her hand–shaking, covered with her own blood–reached up to cup his face. She stared at him, looking into his soul, his heart.
"Told you…I'd protect you," she said.
His eyes widened. No. No, no, no, no, nonononono. They just figured out. She couldn't…she couldn't die. This isn't–They're supposed to be soulmates. They're supposed to get their happily ever after. He needed to take her to dinner, buy her flowers, get a ring, all that stuff soulmates are supposed to do. She can't die before that happens.
She didn't have the energy to keep her arm up, and it flopped back onto her chest. Her eyes slipped shut.
"Hey." He cupped her cheek. "Stay with me just a little while longer. Please?" He rubbed her cheek, trying to coax her into opening her eyes. Tears pooled in his. "Annabeth?" he whispered, voice breaking.
Her chest had already stopped heaving with each pained breath. Her lifeless body collapsed against him, not able to hold herself up anymore.
"No," he choked out. He didn't care as the tears fell down his face, curling around Annabeth. His body shook as sobs washed over him, wave after wave. "No."
His soul-words had been spoken to him. The last words his soulmate would ever say to him.
His soulmate…was dead.
AN: "Swear you will do your best to keep Percy from danger," he [Chiron] insisted. "Swear upon the River Styx."
"I–I swear it upon the River Styx," Annabeth said.
Thunder rumbled outside."
–Page 54, The Sea of Monsters
(Actual quote. Look it up.)
Listening to Still by Ben Folds or any song by Of Monsters and Men gives me fuel to write angsty/sad things. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing…
If it wasn't clear about my whole soulmate set-up in this: Soulmates only know the last words their beloved will utter to them, and, yes, mortals have soulmates, too. So you only know who your true soulmate is after they're gone.
I'm becoming a bit obsessed with soulmate AUs, I think. Ha ha. I'm planning a Solangelo one, and hopefully that will be out sometime soon.
This was not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. If you spot any errors, please point them out to me so that I may fix them.
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. (Good thing, too, since a just killed off Annabeth, huh?)
Constructive criticism is welcome, and reviews FEED MY DEMONIC POWERS! BWA HA HA!