Hello.

I feel so guilty updating this. :P

Why am I making this when I need to start the Immortals chapter for my EI? And write out the next WATS chapter?

(To all you WATS fans- I am not on a writer's block. Do not fear.)

(To all you EI fans- I have an idea, but guess what! My stupid muse is not cooperating! I'll update it as soon as I can, though.)

To all you other folks- this will stay a one-shot untill I get enough 'I want more!' requests, 'k?

Now, enjoy...

(... and either curse or praise my stupid muse.)

*I don't own anything. Not even the cover.

The first thing Percy felt when he hit the bottom of Tartarus was Annabeth's hand falling out of his.

And the first thing his sea-green eyes saw was a blinding, golden, light.

Percy instinctively reached in his tattered jean pocket for his weapon –a seemingly simple ballpoint pen- knowing fully well that Tartarus was supposed to be darker than the realm of Nyx.

The son of Poseidon stood up and uncapped his pen, which transformed into a three-foot bronze sword called Riptide, or Anaklusmos in Ancient Greek. He used his other arm to shield his eyes from the burning light.

The light died down as soon as it came and the cavern of Tartarus was eaten by shadows. Percy couldn't tell if he was standing upside-down, right-side up, or standing sideways in the abyss. Percy, confused as ever, realized something and cursed in Greek. He swung his sword blindly, angry with himself that he didn't use the light. He could have used the light to find Annabeth, but he wasted the opportunity- the chances of a source of light were almost nothing, and the chances of seeing another bright flash was zilch.

Annabeth Chase. His comrade, his best friend, his Wise Girl, his girlfriend, and now they were separated in the depths of Tartarus. So much for the promise of not leaving her.

Just moments ago –Percy wasn't sure if it was seconds, minutes, hours, or even days since he descended in the pit- the couple fell in the prison of the titans, the home of the ancient monsters. Falling in was pretty much a death sentence to everyone, especially demigod legacies of the Big Three, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. The monsters could already scent them quickly enough, and it was already bad enough that the darkness of Hades surrounded them both. No need for them to get separated; they had no clue which way the Doors of Death were anyways, or how to shut them.

A pair of aurum eyes gleamed in the darkness, and Percy blinked. Did he just see those familiar, sinister, golden eyes? Or were his own deceiving him?

No, Kronos is gone. His body is sand –ha, the pun- and he can't reform even here.

Golden eyes flashed before his vision again, and Percy tightened his grip on Anaklusmos. "Who's there?"

Sounds of mindless chattering and amused high-pitched giggles bounced around the chasm, and a humorless laugh bellowed over them all. Percy felt goose bumps crawl down his spine, and he did the most foolish thing he could have done in the situation, which was saying a lot.

Percy stepped backward.

In normal circumstances, he might have tripped on a popular snob in the hallways of Goode High, or tripped and fallen down the stairs of the apartment he and his mother called home. When the hero of Olympus stepped back, his foot slipped and fell into a deeper crevice.

Percy closed his eyes while he was falling. Maybe he was going to die this time, and who knows, Annabeth might be falling down with-

No, don't think that. You and Annabeth will get out of here alive. Or, at least, she will.

Percy landed on his feet, and the impact knocked him hard. He stumbled and landed on his back, accidentally releasing Riptide in the process.

The son of Poseidon could hear Riptide skid down the stones and into another deeper crevice, and he clutched his right jean pocket desperately, praying to whichever Greek or Roman god made ballpoint pens appear back in pockets. Percy felt exposed. Being in the prison of the monsters without a weapon was not a good sign.

Percy tried to get up, but a hazy streak of gold knocked him off his feet. He tried to sense if there was any water nearby that he could use to defend himself. As a son of Poseidon, water was his specialty in combat.

Percy found nothing. Not a single drop was flowing freely in the rugged cracks of the dark obsidian rock, or simply hanging in the air.

Suddenly, Percy felt very, very dry.

The sinister, familiar laugh rang throughout Tartarus again, accompanied by the chattering teeth.

"Perseus Jackson," The voice hissed, and a new voice seemed to entwine with the old one. The woman's voice sounded…. Tempting, but very uncomfortable, like a snake trying to charm a rat into its nest. "The Savior of Olympus, son of Neptune, bane of the Time Lord, has finally fallen."

"Where is Annabeth?"

"Annabeth, hmm?" The synchronized voices said in amusement. "She's dead."

Those words hit Percy worse than all the high-voltage hits from the two known children of the king of the gods. Annabeth couldn't be dead. Not after helping him defeat Kronos in the war. Not after the best two weeks of his life. Not after the best (and only) underwater kiss he ever had.

Memories started filling his thoughts and overflowing his mind like a bucket overflowing with water. The first time meeting Annabeth when he was in the infirmary and her telling him that he drooled in his sleep. Percy remembers them, two demigods, and Tyson the Cyclops half-brother of his going to a safe house to rest and those beautiful stormy grey eyes, gazing at him with aching weight when she tells him that Luke helped built the safe house. He remembers one of his best kisses –their first kiss as a couple- in the labyrinth under Mount Helen. He sees in his mind's eye the time when they sneaked out of camp and went to the movie cinema. Percy feels their kiss of reunion at Camp Jupiter.

After eight months of not seeing Annabeth and only a week full of monsters and prophesies with her, Percy wanted to get out of the mess with Annabeth alive. Or, if he was to choose one thing, it would be to get Annabeth out alive; his life was worth losing if she lived. Well, and closing the Doors of Death, but that was a whole other story.

Percy wouldn't admit it, but his fatal flaw –personal loyalty- made him a helpless romantic. Now he was going to pay for it.

"She can't be dead." Percy declared loudly, but his body and voice shook with fear that the thought she's gone. His voice seemed to be absorbed by the mindless chattering, and Percy repeated loudly with panic hinted in the edge of his voice, "She can't be dead!"

He reached into his pocket to arm himself with the pen, which should have returned in his pocket by now.

Nothing. Not even Riptide's cap.

Percy lost his nerve and felt around for his pen. The ADHD son of Poseidon felt more paranoid and exposed when he turned each pocket inside out. Anaklusmos has always been faithful. Why not now? Why wasn't it there?

The woman clucked her tongue in amusement. "Thought it was loyal, didn't you?"

"Shut up."

"It won't save her, anyways. She's already dead."

"No she isn't." Percy then added in his thoughts, She's a daughter of Athena, she's too smart to be dead.

"Loyal, aren't you?" The women mused.

"You never knew that?" The man replied in the same tone.

"I knew. I just thought he would toss it away," Percy could imagine the woman waving her hand nonchalantly. "After all, this is Tartarus."

Percy growled. Why were they ignoring him? "Where is Annabeth?"

Their voiced seemed to mold together as they chimed, "She's dead."

Percy's clenched his fists, and blind with rage, he punched his fist in the darkness. The chances of hitting something were almost none, but Percy felt impact on something –or someone- upon him.

Percy saw a dim golden glimmer in front of him, and the sinister laugh echoed once again in the halls of Tartarus. Percy felt the butt of a scythe hit his head, and he crumpled on his knees.

"Welcome to Tartarus, Perseus Jackson."

Then Percy's vision spun and went black.