A/N: Luckily, I managed to finish this in time for you guys for the Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase shipweek. I wanted to write a short story, but I didn't have the time due to the huge amount of work I've had to deal with at school. But, here you go. I'm going to be honest that there's some violence, so be wary.

Free From The Dark

An early morning Sun began to slowly rise over Camp, bringing with it its warm and comforting light. It snuck through crevices in curtains, open windows, anything it could possibly touch. And for many, considering it was Saturday morning, it was an incentive to wake up and enjoy the fresh air.

But in a particular bedroom, the usual dweller had been up long before the Sun had. And considering this dweller was Percy Jackson, an avid believer of sleeping in, it was an odd occurrence. What made the situation all the more strange, though, was the fact that not only was he awake before ten on a Saturday, but the curtains were open as far as they could possibly go, allowing the room to be flooded with light. If Percy was in his usual state of mind, the curtains would be shut as tightly together, and he would be sound asleep.

But Percy wasn't in his usual state of mind. He was quite the contrary, in fact. The past few weeks of his life had been the worst, even when it came to the life of a demigod. If no one at camp knew any better, they would probably slug him on the arm saying,

"Suck it up, you'll get through it!"

But they did know better than to do that. Every single one of them, after hearing the kind of hellish things he and Annabeth had gone through and seen in Tartarus, kept their mouths shut. And even after the two of them narrowly escaped, the pieces were still strewn about, needing to be picked up. On top of that, there were the all too vivid nightmares that jarred Percy and Annabeth not just a handful of times, but on a nightly-basis. These nights often ended with Percy and Annabeth huddled together under a set of bedsheets, holding each other until morning came again.

Nights more recently had changed, though. There were more times than not now that got to a point where their nightmares had gotten so gruesome, that they could hardly be near each other. Percy supposed he was at fault for that, though.

It had only been a few evenings when Percy had his meltdown. Out of exhaustion from lack of sleep and the emotional toll of the day, he had gone back to his cabin to rest. He did what he could to not fall asleep, and only rest his eyes, but to no avail. Apparently, from what Grover had told him,after he had more or less disappeared from the arena, Annabeth stepped away to search for him. And when she got close enough in proximity to his cabin, she heard his slurred shouts. Annabeth rushed in, and found him thrashing violently on his bed, his face contorted with the worst emotions-anger, fear, anguish, all at once. She managed to jolt his shoulder until he awoke, and that's when his memory recalled every single detail.

He remembered craning his eyes open, revealing Annabeth's own frail orbs of grey, which were staring desperately at him. She examined him up and down frantically, taking in every detail, as if he was going to vanish unless she did. But in his dazed head, he quickly pushed her away from him with ease, as she obviously didn't expect the assault. Percy was sick with guilt the moment she fell to the floor, but his impulses sent him into overdrive as he pushed past Grover and the few people scattered in front of the door. He sprinted for the beach, away from his crime, away from punishment. He sat in the gritty sand for Gods' knows how long, until he dared to trek back to the confinements of camp. Needless to say that he was swiftly ordered back to his cabin by a furious Chiron, and was told that he would stay there until he was seen fit to intermingle with the other campers once more.

Percy rubbed the side of his head as he tried to remember how many days he had been kept in his room. Two? Three? He assumed it was safe to say that it had been a few days. He glanced out the exposed window, and watched as campers walked past, presumably for breakfast. The thought of breakfast distracted his mind. And even if it was only a brief moment, it was almost reassuring. The fact that he was able to think about something other than the grotesque scenes from his nightmares gave him the slightest hint of hope that his mind was beginning to sort itself out. And though he didn't want to get his hopes up, he kept it in mind. He thrived for anything that made him feel like his old self, even if it was something as small as breakfast. Percy turned his head towards the door, and watched as Grover hastily stepped inside.

"Hey Percy," He said with the slightest hint of uncertainty. Percy's line of sight focused on the tray of food hungrily, but he ignored the urges to snatch the tray from Grover and mustered what he had left to smile,

"Hey G-Man,"

The use of Grover's nickname seemed to give him some reassurance, but he still proceeded with caution as he fully stepped into the room.

"I uh…I brought you some food."

He set the tray down on Percy's nightstand, and stood idly by for a moment.

"Oh, sorry. Thanks, Grover." Percy gulped down the glass of orange juice before munching furiously on a piece of toast. When he glanced up from his breakfast, he found Grover was still standing there, his face knit with worry, "What is it?"

"Nothing," He sighed, "I guess I just feel sorry for you. You know, after everything that's happened."

"Ah, don't worry about me," Percy waved him away, despite the fact that this was no matter to push away in a nonchalant manner. He resumed eating his toast.

"Annabeth's doing okay."

Percy swallowed his food, and he winced as he felt it sink to his stomach as though it had the density of a jagged rock.

"I suppose that's some good news." Percy's eyes flitted to the floor as the all-too vivid memory of that night came back to his mind, "She's not...Hurt?"

"No," Grover paused before adding with a slight wince, "Not really."

"Not really?" Percy echoed.

"Well, she has a small bruise. But nothing drastic."

Percy clenched his teeth, a habit that had formed pretty recently. It was his way of releasing some tension, when he wasn't attacking innocent bystanders in his sleep, of course.

"Nothing drastic, Grover?" He repeated his friend for a second time, "Gods, that's naive."

Grover let out a shaky breath, "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have." Percy snapped bitterly, "I know that you don't truly understand what Annabeth and I went through a few weeks ago, but really, I'm sure you could have some perspective, and that goes for the rest of Camp. I pushed her, Grover. The two of us had a lot more than that happen to us, but that could have pushed her off the edge."

"But it didn't, Percy," Grover insisted, in an attempt to take back his words, "She's just the same as she was when she found you having your nightmares."

"Get out, Grover, I'm through listening to you right now."

His friend didn't argue, and rather than saying anything else, he turned and walked out the door. Percy threw his head into his hands, gripping his hair furiously. What was he thinking, talking like that to Grover, his best friend? He knew Grover didn't mean any harm with his words, though Percy knew for a fact that his had sounded more than hostile. But what could he do now? He was trapped in his room, it wasn't as though he could march out of his cabin and apologize to Grover-that would probably land him another week of confinement.

Percy reclined back, allowing the seemingly vast covers on his bed enclose him with warmth. A part of his old, sleep addict self seemed to have reawakened for a moment from this, because sleep at that moment seemed so tempting. But all the while, doing as much as closing his eyes for a brief second seemed like the biggest taboo out there. His stomach let out a faint grumble, but he ignored it. His appetite had long vanished. Percy rose from his bottom bunk, stretching his back as he did. As he glanced around for a half-decent outfit from his selection of clothes on the floor, he realized someone was standing at his window. And as he dared himself to look up, his heart practically dropped when he saw Annabeth standing there, watching him with a pained expression. Percy almost immediately froze, and was sure that he was wide-eyed with surprise. A weak smile traced itself on her face, something that was a rarity to see from her now. But he obliged, and returned the favor as he too smiled. She looked over her shoulders suddenly, and before he could process it, she had run off.

Percy outstretched his arm as the ball he threw to the wall rebounded in his direction. It hurdled past his open palm, and he grimaced as a loud crashing noise emanated behind him. He braved the sight of the obvious mess that was going to be there, and turned to face it. His glass from breakfast lay shattered on the floor, along with a few splashes of orange pulp from the beverage. He padded cautiously towards the mess, minding the shards of glass as carefully as possible. Ignoring the glass, he scooped up his tennis ball, but on his way to do so, his foot skid across one of the pools of orange juice. It wasn't much, but enough to send an unassuming Percy towards the ground-right on top of the jagged pieces of glass. He let out a yelp of surprise as he lost his footing, which quickly escalated to a scream, and then a gasp of anguish.

The glass soon began to dig into his skin, tearing it as it went. He let out a slight whimper of pain, not just from the destructive glass, but how hard he had hit the floor. Percy trembled as he reached down towards his thigh, where a massive piece of glass was sticking out. He wrapped a shaking hand around it, and yanked it out with a swift yank. Letting out another hiss of pain, he dropped the piece of glass at his side, and upon examining his hand, he realized he had practically scissored his hand open on the glass.

He rolled onto his back, allowing more glass to poke and prod at his back. Percy didn't know how long he laid there until the door opened once more, but when it did, it was a sight for sore eyes. There was a loud clatter by the door, followed by a loud slam. He was pulled up from the floor, and he felt the vague sensation of his shirt being peeled up from a floor sticky with orange juice, and quite possibly, blood.

"Come on, Percy," She managed in between hauling him up, "If you can make it through Tartarus, you can make it through some glass cuts."

She brushed her hand that wasn't holding him up across his back a few times to brush the few crushed up pieces of glass off of him.

"Why are you helping me, Annabeth?" Was all he could manage in his dazed state of pain.

"Because, you're my boyfriend, Seaweed Brain. Anymore stupid questions?"

"No," He mumbled with a weak smirk.

She lugged him up to the point where he was in a sitting position, and caressed his shoulders lightly, "Good, because I'm going to need your help."

"With what?"

"Getting this glass out," She replied firmly, "Not to mention you need a bath. Now come on, let's get you to the bathroom." He managed to stand without impaling himself with glass, and he allowed Annabeth to half-lead him to the bathroom. Annabeth made him sit down on the edge of the bathtub as she gave him a quick once over.

"You're lucky that you don't need stitches," She began as she slowly began to pull out the shards of glass protruding from his skin, "How did this happen, anyway?"

"I slipped," Percy answered with a cringe as she took a piece from his shoulder.

"Hmm," Annabeth hummed, obviously unconvinced. She reached behind him and turned the faucet for the tub on before jamming the plug into the drain, "Let that run. I'll be right back."

She stepped out of the room, leaving Percy alone. He brushed a hand through his hair absentmindedly, out of sheer wonder over why she was even here. Chiron had unofficially forbade Annabeth from coming into contact with him until he was let out of his cabin, not to mention that Percy had violently pushed her.

Annabeth came back into the room, carrying a small roll of bandages,

"I was hoping you'd have some more bandages on hand than this," She muttered, turning the faucets back off, "I'll have to go get some more. But the bath's ready, so get in. I'll be right back."

Annabeth disappeared once more, and when he heard the cabin door finally shut, he peeled his clothes off. He slid into the shallow-watered tub. Despite the fact that Annabeth had removed all of the glass, his wounds were still open. Blood trickled freely from the slits of various sizes on his skin, gradually turning the water a faint shade of pink. He didn't make an effort to staunch the flow of blood, and simply watched as it poured from his wounds.

If he could make it through Tartarus, he could make it through some glass cuts.

Footsteps sounded behind him suddenly, and when they finally registered in his head, he whirled around, "Annabeth!"

Percy instantly brought his knees up to his chest in an attempt to make himself somewhat decent. His face grew hotter as she came to the edge of the bathtub, holding a towel out for him.

"Come on, Percy," She huffed, but still kept her eyes in a different direction for his sake, "The last time I checked, we weren't in Kindergarten."

He took the towel from her before stepping out of the bath. She kept her eye sight trained on the wall as he fastened the towel around his waist. After a moment, she glanced back at him.

"Do I have permission to look at you now?"

He shrugged, "I guess?"

"Well good. You're bleeding everywhere, so we should wrap up those cuts soon."

Percy returned to his spot on the edge of the bathtub, and Annabeth took a seat beside him. She unraveled a few strips of bandage, wrapping it around the cuts that had nicked his arm he had fallen on. She continued this until there weren't any more cuts to cover up. Percy felt her fingers ghost down his side, but stop suddenly. He frowned, glancing over. Her fingers were frozen, unmoving on top of the dark, jagged line that ran along his hip.

"Oh…" He quickly tugged the towel around his lower body up in order that the scar was covered up. Annabeth blinked a few times before her eyes darted to the ground,

"I remember when you got that scar," She muttered, her voice cracking. Percy put an arm around her, holding her close.

"Hey," He soothed, "You don't need to talk about it."

Annabeth nodded once, hastily swiping her eyes, before fully looking away.

"I," She swallowed, "I brought you some food. Do you want any?"

"Sure," Percy grinned, running a reassuring hand down her arm, in hope that she might forget about the haunting scar, "I'd love some."

Percy wolfed down the food on the plate Annabeth had brought him. Skipping both breakfast and lunch had taken a toll on his hunger, and now that he had food in front of him, it reminded him dearly that he needed to eat.

"Slow the eating down a bit, Percy." Annabeth scolded slightly as she folded up the clothing that had been scattered around his room. While he had been attending to his dinner, she had been cleaning up his unkempt room. He set his fork down with a faint clatter, sighing with contempt. Annabeth shuffled over, promptly taking the plate. She strode towards the door, and opened it,

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Percy," She sighed, turning towards him in the doorway, "You know I can't be here. I'll be in enough trouble over the fact that we're breaking the whole two campers being alone rule. Especially if that camper is you."

"Annabeth-"

"I'm sorry. I need to go, before we get caught." She put her back to him before setting off into the darkened grounds of camp.

"Annabeth-" He called again, though his voice faltered when he realized how dark it was outside. Panic seized in his chest, and he retreated back to the lit confinements of his cabin. Percy slammed the door, and grasped the collar of his shirt, hoping that he might steady his breathing that way. And when it finally returned to a normal pace, he stumbled back to his bed, and sat down.

What had just happened? Annabeth had just happened to show up at his door, with food, until she found him laying on the floor, spiked with glass. And then she helped him up, bathed him, and patched him up as though he were a child. But perhaps that's what Tartarus had knocked him down to, just a frail little boy. Annabeth had put him in front of her own needs, even if she was as scarred from that inferno of a hell as he was. He stared into the darkness of his room that bordered the ring of light from his lamp, as though something was going to pounce out from it if he didn't keep his guard up completely.

Percy rolled back so that he was laying on his side, all while keeping his stare completely fixed into the darkness. It was getting late-and in turn getting all the more darker. He decided that he should sleep, knowing fully well what would come with it. But he was going to drift off unintentionally at some point, so Percy supposed he might as well get it over with. And before he could have any seconds thoughts, he began to drift off into a hellish sleep.

A high-pitched, blood-curdling shriek hammered Percy's eardrums. And when he turned to the owner of the scream, he found Annabeth crumpled to the ground with some monster looming over her. It was a dream that recurred in his head often, but seemed to get more horrifying by each night he dreamt of it. And everytime he set off for the monster, wielding his sword, Annabeth got farther and farther away from his reach, and the monster got farther and farther away from being torn apart by Percy. He would watch, powerless, as the monster slashed and slashed at Annabeth's already torn body. It would continue, until she was to the point of being unrecognizable. And by the time it had gotten to that point, Percy had usually woken himself up.

But that night, he became so locked in his dream, so paralyzed with fear, that he couldn't even snap himself out of it. Annabeth slowly became mere flesh and bones, and all the while, Percy was trying to get to her. With the few breaths the figmentary Annabeth had, she let out a cry,

"Why Percy? Why didn't you save me?"

"I'm trying, Annabeth! Can't you see? Annabeth…" He could see his vision begin to darken, and he cried out in relief over the fact that it was over. Though he wasn't sure if it had been in the dream, or in his conscious body that he had. Percy's eyes opened quickly, and when they were blurred with tears, he rubbed them away hastily. He glanced over at his lamp, which was still burning bright.

Percy's eyes regarded the darkness once more, but this time he knew someone was there.

"Who's there?" He questioned warily.

A foot submerged from the dark corners of the room, and another, until it revealed a full body-Annabeth's. She was dressed in a threadbare t-shirt and shorts, presumably for pajamas. Her hand was thrown into its usual messy ponytail, and was tossed over her shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Percy muttered, noting how hostile he had sounded. She padded towards him, almost silently so, and he quickly recovered in order to spout some form of an apology, "Sorry, I didn't mean it that way, Annabeth. I-I'm glad you're here."

Annabeth continued to walk towards him, without a word from her mouth. She leaned down suddenly, whispering into his ear,

"Percy-I can't sleep."

He sighed, "I know, I know…"

Percy reached towards the lamp, and after turning the knob a few times, it switched off. His breath instantly hitched at how vulnerable he felt in the full darkness, and he could've sworn Annabeth had done the same thing. He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her close to him. His lips gently grazed hers, and her breath hitched once more. It was an almost instantaneous reaction from him as she began to return his light kisses. She climbed into his bed, half-straddling him with her leg.

"I'm sorry," He said, "I'm so sorry."

"No, please don't be sorry," Annabeth breathed.

Percy felt the heavy weight that had been pressing on him be lifted suddenly. She had forgiven him for his actions from a few evenings ago. And now, he felt like he could move on a little, with Annabeth by his side. He reclined back, bringing Annabeth closer to him.

For weeks, months now, they had been so close to each other, but they might as well have been on different planets completely. His newfound nightmares, anxiety, and paranoia had been taxing, and while he still loved Annabeth as much as he had before Tartarus, and perhaps even more so, he feared that he would be too much of a burden on Annabeth. He gradually put distance between the two of them.

They broke away from their kiss, and Annabeth lightly caressed his face as he quietly undid the elastic that had been keeping her hair in its ponytail. Her hair almost seemed to pour out from it's restraint, as it flowed out, tickling his face slightly. Percy couldn't help but chuckle quietly,

"What?" She asked, laughing herself.

"Your hair," He muttered, brushing a hand through it, "It's tickling my face."

She brushed it aside before placing a hand on his hip, the one that was marred with a dark scar.

"I should've stuck my neck out for you," Annabeth said miserably, "I was always too busy putting myself in danger to protect you. And now you have this horrible scar because of me."

"Annabeth, it's not your fault that I got this scar," He put a comforting hand that enclosed hers, "Besides, it's hardly noticeable. And besides, I'm lucky. You and I both know that there were worse monsters that could've done much more worse things to me. I'm long overdue for some kind of scar, anyway, I should've got one a long time ago."

He heard her release a sob before she buried her face in his neck.

"How could you say something like that?"

"It's the truth," He muttered, though not loud enough for her to hear. From all of the things he had gone through in his life as a demigod, he should've had more scars than he did, if it wasn't for his dumb luck. He put both arms around Annabeth, holding her tightly. Percy wanted to say something, but saw that it would be a wiser choice to simply let her cry. After all, it was something that he had felt building up inside him for the longest time. The collar of his shirt was soon soaked thoroughly with her tears, but he ignored it. He wasn't sure how long she had cried, but he was sure it had been a while. Annabeth's breathing eventually slowed to a normal place,

"Percy? Are you still awake?"

"Yeah," He sighed tiredly.

"Sorry," She apologized lightly with a sniffle, "I didn't mean to cry like that."

Percy shook his head, "Hey, don't worry about it."

"Can I-" She hesitated briefly, "Can I stay?"

"Of course you can," He whispered. She sniffled for a second time before settling in beside him. Annabeth nestled her face into the crook of his neck, and he once again draped his arms around hers. She continued to sniffle, but overtime, her breathing slowed to that of someone who was in a deep sleep. Percy kissed the top of her head, before he too drifted off. And though he wasn't sure what dreams would haunt him through the remainder of the night, he knew that he could rest at least somewhat easily with Annabeth beside him.

A/N: I'm still mastering writing the more intimate scenes, but hopefully it was decent. I hope you guys enjoyed the story, and please, feel free to check out my others. A lot of them are older, and are things that I wrote when I was just starting out on Fanfiction. But a few are a little more up to date on my writing abilities.

Thank you very much for reading,
Leaded-Pegasus