Arachne.
Annabeth takes in the monster as the spider woman flings herself to the ground, close enough to her that she feels she might choke on that smell. And all she can think is her name. There's that fear, intense and paralyzing climbing up her spine. She's acutely aware of the way Percy's moving behind her and of the red eyes holding her in place and of the fire in her stomach that she's just drank.
That's all it took, Annabeth realizes later. The reminder that she was in Tartarus, literal hell, and the she had just plunged her arms into a river of fire to drink it on a possibility that the stories were correct about its healing powers. That she was here and alive, and like hell was she going to let Percy Jackson step in to be her hero again. For now. Just right now. For this moment.
Her breath quickens, because for all the bravado of that thought, her body hasn't quite caught up to this change in plans. It's only when she hears Percy moving and the familiar sound of Riptide that she knows she has to act, and she has to act now.
Except she has no weapon. There's no familiar weight of her dagger, not on her hip or in her hand, and she really can't afford the time to feel the gravity of that particular loss. She can't even afford the time it takes to think of a way to do this on her own, to finish it.
For Athena.
Her body turns on instinct toward Percy. It's easy, she thinks, because he's not expecting it. Especially not from her. That makes her feel bad for half a second, before she feels the heavy weight of the sword in her hand. She's worked with swords before, and it's not like she doesn't know how to do this. Annabeth reminds herself that she's good at this, that it's just another weapon and this is just another monster that has to be stopped.
"Annabeth-" Percy's voice is practically in her ear, and she can feel every note of surprise and anger vibrate in his tone.
That can't stop her, though. Not when Arachne's barely two feet away and ready to make a meal of two demigods.
She grits her teeth and practically throws her whole body behind the swing. She won't be afraid, and she won't scream. She won't let their journey end before it has even begun, and if she can't conquer this fear - if she can't conquer iArachne/i - there's no way her and Percy will make it to the Doors of Death.
The scream was not her own, and it took her a couple of seconds of watching the gold dust flit through the air to realize that it was the monster's. Percy's hands are over hers a second later, warm and familiar, easing her fingers from their death grip on the hilt of the sword. "It's okay," he whispers to her. "You might not want to let the blade drag across rocks."
"What?" She blinks at him, letting him take back possession of his sword. "Sorry." She rubs a hand over her face. "For… taking your sword."
He eyes her for a moment, jaw clenching. "You took care of Arachne. I think she died too easily, but… She died by your hands."
A small smile flickers over her face as she glances from the place where the monster had been to her boyfriend's. "Couldn't really let you have all the fun, Seaweed Brain."
