No. No, no, no, no.
It wasn't going to end like this.
After everything Percy had been through, after everything he'd done, he had only wound up losing everything. Everything.
The world was spinning away from him too quickly; he couldn't catch it. Percy tipped his head to the sky and felt like his old friend Luke Castellan when he shouted a curse to the gods upward. How could they do this? How could they send Percy and his friends on this quest? How could they act like they favored him but not grant him the one thing he couldn't live without? How?
Gods...Annabeth.
He brushed a strand of her hair from her face, which was now a lifeless shade of gray. His fingers shook terribly. She was gone. She would never see him again. Never kiss him again, never smile at him again, never tell him a fact he didn't know, ever, ever, again. For the first time since he woke up at Camp Half-Blood, he found himself facing a world without Annabeth. His Annabeth. Gods...
It was terrible.
His stomach was tying itself in knots trying to compensate for the pain. Percy honestly felt like he might throw up. That would be one for the books.
Percy was so emotionally unstable right now he almost laughed. His friends probably would've sent him to an asylum. It was then that the ground beneath Percy vibrated. Gaea's no longer sleeping face appeared in the door. Percy felt his very skin tingle with anger. He should unleash all his power. He should dump every ounce of water on this planet on Gaea. But he didn't have the strength. Gaea at last spoke.
Begone, heroes. I have no need of you.
Her face disappeared. Percy, as if somewhere distant, heard himself roar. He drove Riptide into the sand, making haphazard gashes in the ground. He was angry. Percy was so, so angry that his entire world seemed to be tinted red. He was still howling and cutting at the earth when a pair of arms, cold as ice, wrapped around his chest. Someone tugged him back, shouting at him to stop. Someone whose voice was nearly as wrought with sorrow as his was.
Percy turned to the pale face of Nico di Angelo. The ghost king was staring at him as if his own heart had been broken. As if he could feel Percy's pain. Had Nico always looked at him this way? Had Percy paid him enough attention to notice? Nico dropped beside him and let Percy go. His eyes were horrified. Percy's eyes met his, and Nico seemed to mentally flinch. Percy felt a hand cover his own and was surprised to find it was Nico's.
"Annabeth." He sobbed. "I'll never see her again."
Percy's fear of suffocation came rushing back. He felt like someone was crushing his lungs. Nico looked into his eyes.
"I know, Percy," he said with a hollow voice. "I know. I promise you..." Nico lifted their intertwined hands between them as if he didn't know how it had happened. "I promise you there will be revenge. I promise you. Annabeth deserves it. You deserve it." Percy's vision was blurring as Nico talked.
"Annabeth..." he said again. Nico looked even paler, if that was at all possible.
"Percy, I am so sorry. It isn't your fault." The ghost king said it with conviction. He leaned closer to Percy. "I hate watching you like this. This hurts you so much, I...I would take it away if I could. Please, Percy. I know it hurts."
And then the son of Hades pulled Percy into a hug.
A hug.
Percy was so stunned he almost forgot to breathe. Since when did Nico give out hugs? But Nico's shirt smelled like the battle, like fire and anger and earth. And his other friends weren't around, so...
So Percy leaned into him and cried. The name circled around in his head like a mantra.
Annabeth. Annabeth. Annabeth.
