He slips into the night with naught a word.
He thinks, tries to replay flashbacks, and thinks some more. As Annabeth would say, "Does it hurt to think, Seaweed Brain? Or is your seaweed magically absorbent enough to soak up even more stuff?"
His eyes crinkle, his forehead creases. Who is this Annabeth that keeps popping up into his mind, with her weird quotes and weird nicknames? Was she important to him?
He stops walking, and sets his finger on his chin. Memories come rushing back, but as soon as he glimpses them, they flee once again. He's getting a headache from the amount that came back at once.
But what are these? He only knows of a camp somewhere in New York, blue cookies, and the name Annabeth. Were those things important to him, or were they just memories?
He slips back to a place he knows of as home, but the people there have many more wrinkles than him. He's younger than most; ten years at least. He frowns. What was his age again? Fifty something? Or early sixties?
He scratches the back of his head before sitting on a bright yellow couch that hurts his blurry vision. A memory comes by of where he put his glasses, and, before the memory has a chance to go away, he sifts through his pocket and finds the dark green glasses. He slips them on and stares blankly at the wall.
What was he here for again? He cocked his head, staring curiously at the pale green walls of his room. Annabeth. The name flashes through his mind as he muses the meaning.
A person knocks on his door, and he gets up to get it. He opens it to see a lady with startling gray eyes and pale blonde hair with streaks of gray. "Yes?" he questions as he stares at the old lady standing in the doorway.
Her eyes are puffy, and tearstains are seen on her face. He has the urge to stick out his hand and wipe them away, so he does.
The lady seems taken aback, but she envelops him in a big hug. "You remember," she murmurs against his shoulder.
He backs away slowly. "Who are you?" he asks slowly, studying the old lady. The woman slouches at his question, tears threatening to spill. "Knew it was too good to be true," the lady mutters, and moves back toward the doorway.
He cocks his head as the lady moves, swaying her hips in an alluring, familiar way. He breathes in and out, hesitating, as he asks, "Are you Annabeth?"
The woman freezes, stopping dead in her tracks. "Yes, Percy, I am," she whispers, turning around. He is startled to see her face covered in tears. Again, he steps forward, closer to her, but he restrains from setting his hand upon the side of her cheek as he stares at her, his sea green eyes following every inch of her body.
His eyes widen almost comically as he brushes his fingertips along the side of her face, and a grin stretches onto his face. He leans in and kisses her lightly on the lips as the woman, shocked, finally returns it.
"Annabeth," he murmurs against her lips. "It's our anniversary; we've got to celebrate. Let's go out for dinner tonight, Wise Girl."
He can tell as he pulls away from her kiss that he said something. She's biting the inside of her lip, and restraining from meeting his gaze.
59, 58, 57…
"It's not that simple, Percy."
52, 51, 50…
"Why not?" he breathes against her cheeks after kissing them lightly.
45, 44, 43…
"You have Alzheimer's, Seaweed Brain."
38, 37, 36…
"In a little bit, you'll remember nothing."
29, 28, 27…
"I'll always love you, Wise Girl," he says after a few seconds pause.
20, 19, 18…
"I love you, too, Seaweed Brain."
14, 13, 12…
"Just so you know, the kids are doing fine," she says quietly.
7, 6, 5…
She quickly leans forward and plants a firm kiss on his lips, the kiss lasting several seconds.
2, 1, 0…
He pulls away and yells, "Who are you? What are you doing? Why are you kissing me?"
He thrashes and punches and kicks at her as she calls for the nurse. She sets a comforting hand on his shoulder. He jerks away and smashes her hand with his elbow as she yelps. He'd hit her hand with arthritis.
She rubs her hand as she leaves the room, listening to Percy scream and thrash, trying to get away from the nurse and away from the building.
Suddenly, she hears nothing, and the nurse screams, "He's going into cardiac arrest! Someone get the doctor!"
Annabeth sits down and buries her head in her hands as the doctor rushes into the room with makeshift supplies. Soon, they are wheeling her husband out of the room, to the part of the nursing home set apart as a hospital.
She follows silently, reaching out to touch her husband's cheek. She plants a kiss on his forehead as the doctor wheels him to a place she can't go, and watches through the glass as her husband is taken away from her.
She waits outside for him, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. The doctor comes out, shaking his head. A grim expression is set on his face, and, for a second, Annabeth thought Percy had died, before the steady beeping of the heart monitor is heard through the door.
The doctor seems shocked as he hears it, and rushes back into the room. Annabeth waits even longer as the doctor seems to be stabilizing him.
She finally gets to go and see him. He's asleep, and she rubs her hand against the slight stubble on his chin and upper lip. He seems to be waking up, and she immediately pulls her arm away.
He blinks and stares up at her without a word. She stifles a sob as she reaches out her hand. "I'm Anna-" She's not cut off, but startled by the wide smile that is suddenly seen on his face.
"I know, Wise Girl."
