A/N: I don't know what's wrong with me. Seriously, why do I keep doing this? It's all my own doing this time, though. That's what I (and you by extension) get for excessively listening to "No Bravery" in the morning.
Between coming out of that living nightmare and reaching Mount Olympus, Annabeth was happy. Well, as happy as one could be who has lived through the things she and Percy have seen down there - or rather not seen, but felt and done and… experienced. But at least they both came out alive, which was more than a small miracle in itself, and what's more, they fought and defeated the remaining giants, and put Gaea back to sleep - all without losing one of their own.
It was close, though. They had just succeeded in sending the last giant back to Tartarus - again with Dionysus'/Bacchus' help - and completed the ritual to restore Gaea's slumber, when Mother Earth's final retaliation hit them. The ground beneath their feet shifted and they fell, sliding down the mountain on a mass of rock. Jason barely managed to pull Piper and Leo up into the air and onto solid ground, and Frank turned into a giant bald eagle and lifted Hazel and Nico to safety. Percy and Annabeth, though, had slid down the mountain further, clinging to each other's arms. Eventually they hit a cliff, and Percy went over the edge - and this time, it was Annabeth who kept him from falling to his death. But that came at a price.
Only her arms were hanging over the edge, her fingers digging into the skin of his forearms like his were clawing into hers. While they were holding on like that, the remainder of the rock slide came down on Annabeth. Fortunately, a rather large piece got wedged over her torso and protected her upper body from the rest, but her legs were not so lucky. When the mountain had quieted down and Frank and Jason cleared the rocks away and pulled Percy up again, Annabeth was barely conscious enough to look back at the ruins of her legs, smashed to pieces by thousands of tons of rock.
Then she blacked out.
Over the next three days, as Percy tells her once she regains full consciousness, she drifted in and out of it, though mostly staying out. Percy fed her ambrosia and nectar, just barely skirting the limit she can take. He never moved from his spot, sitting next to her on that cliff, watching how her legs slowly heal. She caught fragments of conversation in some of her rare moments of semi-consciousness, but didn't have the capacity to make sense of them.
When she finally comes to for good, she finds her head resting in Percy's lap, with him smiling down at her.
"Hey," he whispers, almost choking for some reason.
"Hey," she replies, instinctively reaching up to touch his face. "What…?"
"You should be better now," he says, pointing to her legs. "Look."
She does, and in place of two bloody sacks of ground meat and bone fragments, she sees smooth, tan skin covering strong muscle and solid bones.
"Can you wiggle your toes for me?" he asks.
Annabeth complies, and tears of relief spring to her eyes when she sees them do what her brain tells them to. More tears drop onto her face from above, and she realizes Percy is crying too. Tentatively she flexes her thighs and calves, and then rolls over in a single, fluid motion and kneels in front of him.
"I'm fine," she whispers.
Percy nods, his eyes shining. His mouth opens and closes, but when no words come forth, he just resumes nodding. Over and over. Eventually, Annabeth stops him by cupping his cheeks in her hands. She leans in and kisses him - a proper, minutes long kiss that leaves them both more than a little breathless. Then Percy hauls her into his arms and laughs. His chest rumbles against hers, and even though she has a little trouble breathing, she finds that not laughing is impossible in this configuration.
Back aboard the Argo II, everyone is overjoyed to see her walking on her own two feet. Even Jason, who usually wears a mask of composed indifference, breaks out a grin when he hugs her. But as Piper takes his place, and then Hazel, Annabeth hears silently hissed words being exchanged between Jason and Percy.
"Three days?" Annabeth asks, eyes wide. "You stayed on that cliff with me for three days?"
"I would've stayed forever if that's how long it would have taken," Percy replies matter-of-factly, looking up at her from the floor before her bed. "You're not getting away from me, Annabeth."
"But… three days?" Annabeth's mind races. "We should have been en route for New York the moment Gaea was finished! Percy, what if-"
"No," Percy says, and that single word and the sound of his voice shut her up. "I. Don't. Care," he says slowly, as if spelling it out for her. "I couldn't lose you, Annabeth. And I couldn't risk moving you, it might have done even more damage. I had to wait until you were healed."
She looks at him, swallowing hard. Three days. They should have been sailing home for three days already. What if… What if Reyna can't hold her legion back until they return and can make peace? What if Camp Half-Blood doesn't exist anymore?
"Percy," she almost whines. Tears spring to her eyes. "I'm not… I'm not more important than home."
"You are home," Percy insists. "To me."
"But…" She's horrified. "Don't you care about what happens to the camp and everyone there?"
In a flash, his eyes turn fiery, and his voice races to match that. "I care a damn lot about it, and more about our friends," he shouts. "Don't you dare doubt that!"
"Then why did you wait, Percy?" she shouts back. "Why didn't you set sail back home the second you could?"
"I told you why!" He's on his feet now, towering above her. "And I did. The second you were better, I brought you aboard and we're sailing now."
She jumps to her feet and pushed him back, her hands clenched in fists at her sides. Trembling. "That, Perseus Jackson, is your fatal flaw. And you… you… gave in to it. You let it keep you from making the right choice. If we come home to a ruin, then…"
He looks like he wants to lash out at her, but, ever so slowly, he raises his arms and crosses them over his chest, taking deep, shuddering breaths. "I did not," he whispers, his sudden quiet a stark contrast to the volume of their argument. "I made the right choice. Saving you will always be the right choice for me."
Annabeth wants to yell, fire something back at him, but she doesn't know what.
Underneath Percy's clenched jaw, the wild look in his eyes, and the tremors that rack his body, she sees a little twelve-year-old boy who has just put his heart out onto a silver platter and offered it to the person he cares about most, afraid that she might crush it - either by denying the offer, or by taking it and tossing it away - yet trusting that she won't. Annabeth knows she won't. She couldn't. How could she not love the guy who is prepared to give up everything for her?
With a start, Annabeth realizes that it's not just that way around. The words she hurled at her confused mother flash through her mind. Percy is everything to me! Just as he did, she would have stayed with him had their roles been reversed. Her flaw would have made her do exactly the same thing, if only for a slightly different reason. But right there and then, staring into his shining eyes, she knows that she could not risk seeing them close forever - not if she has anything to say about it anyways.
A sob breaks its way out of her throat, and a second later she's prying his arms open and then throws herself against him. She cries, and sobs her realization into his ear, and that she's sorry. Percy just listens, holding her.
On the morning that Long Island appears on the horizon, everyone gathers around the masthead, trying to catch the first glimpse of camp to relieve their worries. It takes an hour before they can see details, and even before that, they see the smoke. Tall columns of black smoke rise over the Sound, darkening their arrival.
As much as Annabeth wants to jump over board and run to help, she forces herself to remain calm. She takes charge without a word, issuing orders to man the crossbows and get armor and medical supplies on deck. For a second, she and Percy lock eyes, and she knows that the pain in his eyes is the same in hers.
After surveying the whole site from the air, Annabeth has Leo land the Argo II on the hill where Thalia's tree stood. Now it has been reduced to a charred stump, and Peleus the dragon is nowhere to be seen.
She knows everyone wants to just run out and check on their friends, just as she does, but there's one thing to be done before that. She's relieved when Percy is the one to bring it up, and even more when Jason agrees. With all hands pulling together, they get the Athena Parthenon on deck, standing tall above the rail. Only now she gives in, races to the supplies and grabs a bag full of ambrosia, nectar and bandages before jumping over board and rolling down the hill, toward camp. When she gets to her feet and runs, Percy is right behind her, breathing hard.
The Big House is merely a ruin, burnt out. The cabins, being smaller, have been less of a target, but still don't look good.
The amphitheater is where they meet the first people. A pair of Ares campers, dressed in full armor, block their way, spears leveled. She can't see them, but Annabeth is sure that somewhere around are archers with arrows nocked.
Percy grabs her hand before he addresses the campers. "It's us," he says. "Annabeth and Percy. We're back."
"You're damn late," comes a voice from the top rows. "Jackson, you're damn late."
Annabeth looks up to see Clarisse, helmet under her arm, regard them from her position.
"Let them pass," she orders, then, more quietly, adds, "Let them see."
Stepping around the curved seats to the open front, Annabeth wishes she had turned and run instead. Barely thirty demigods are still standing on their feet, with too many lying on cots or stretchers, being tended to by those who still can. A little girl - Selina, Annabeth recalls, just eight years old - sees them first. Her little eyes widen, then she scampers off. Annabeth follows her with her eyes. Selina stops beside a group of people, says a few words in her high child's voice, and suddenly the group break up and turn toward Annabeth and Percy.
Percy squeezes her hand hard when Chiron rises to his full centaur height between the handful of campers. Malcolm, Will Solace, Chris Rodriguez, and Rachel stand around him. As more footsteps catch up to them from behind, Annabeth and Percy fall into a run.
It's not a moment for hugs, no matter how much she wants to stop and tell every single person before her how glad she is to see them alive. She wants to pick up little Selina and just cradle her and not say a word, but it's not the time now.
"You're back," Chiron says. She could be wrong, but Annabeth thinks his voice is deeper than it used to be.
"Gaea's dealt with," Percy says. "We came as fast as we could."
"We recovered the Athena Parthenon," Annabeth adds. "We can restore order to Olympus now."
"And make peace with Rome," Chiron finishes. "Although it might be too late for that."
"It can't be," Annabeth replies. "It must not be."
"Child, you have not been here," Chiron says. "You have not seen…"
Annabeth swallows, and suddenly can't look at him anymore. Instead she searches Malcolm's eyes. "How long…"
"Five days ago," her brother replies. "They attacked five days ago. We've been fighting ever since."
Five days, her mind echoes. Four across the Atlantic, with the wind at their backs. If they'd started three days earlier…
For once, Percy seems to be as fast as she, or maybe she's just as slow as he is right now. However the case, he squeezes her hand. Hard.
"What can we do?" he asks.
"Stop the Romans from attacking," Clarisse says, having made her way down the tiers. "I don't know if we can take another of their waves."
"Alright," Percy replies. "We'll try."
They leave Piper, Leo, and Hedge with the ship and the statue, while the rest of them make their way toward the Roman encampment. Piper and Leo wanted to come, too, but Jason and Annabeth eventually convinced them that it would be better not to bring a charmspeaker and the guy who ostensibly shot the forum to pieces to the peace talks.
Up close, the Roman camp doesn't look much better than Camp Half-Blood. Sure, it's not been targeted with flaming arrows, but apparently Hephaestus' cabin managed to get some catapults up, judging by the gouges in the ground. The legionnaires patrolling the borders are all bandaged, and a good number are limping, but they still manage to get a halfhearted shield wall up to greet the approaching demigods.
"QUO VADIS?" someone yells, apparently confused by the three purple shirts among the group.
"We are friends of Rome," Jason replies in Latin. "Where is praetor Reyna?"
There's a moment of confusion among the guards, then a wiry little guy steps forward. Annabeth notices the centurion's insignia on his armor.
"There are Greeks walking with you."
"They are friends," Jason insists. "They want to help."
"Help," the centurion spits. "We've had enough Greek help."
"They did not attack New Rome," Jason replies, gaining visibly more confidence as he speaks. "Gaea possessed one of them to make it look like it was a Greek attack, when in reality, she wanted to drive us apart. It is only thanks to great fortune and the grace of the gods that we succeeded to defeat Gaea's minions and ensure her continuing slumber."
"Jason Grace," a new voice says. "Tell me why I should believe you." Octavian marches up between the legionnaires, carrying himself with far too much arrogance for someone who is supposed to help his people, Annabeth thinks.
"Because it's the truth," Jason answers, failing to keep the venom out of his voice. "But that's something you wouldn't understand, Octavian."
"Oh, I understand plenty," Octavian replies. "Where have you hidden your little charmspeaker?"
"She's not here," Jason says. "Now let us pass. We need to speak with Reyna. This madness has to end."
"Just because you dug up that… thing," Octavian says, gesturing to the ship, where sunlight glints off of the gold of the statue, "you think everything's fine now? I'll tell you what. It isn't. Greeks attacked Rome. They must pay for it."
Jason looks like he's about to draw his sword and take Octavian's head off - which would, sadly, be detrimental to any negotiations, although Annabeth would be more than willing to assist him - but Hazel puts a hand on his arm.
"Please, Octavian, let us explain…" she says.
"I've had enough explanations," Octavian returns. "You've aided the Greeks' escape. You are all traitors."
"For the love of the gods, by the authority of Praetor Reyna, and for the sake of your own life, Octavian - Shut. Up."
Next to Annabeth, Percy flinches. She looks to Jason, and he, Hazel, and Frank all look like they recognize the new speaker.
So, apparently, does Octavian. "You don't give me orders, Centurion."
"I do, by the authority of the Praetor," the speaker replies as she steps forward. The guards bristle and fall back at the sight of Argentum strolling around her legs. The woman reaches down and pets him, then focuses on Octavian again.
"I am Praetor," Octavian shouts.
"Only by virtue of an empty seat," she replies calmly. "I've heard enough of this conversation to know that Praetor Reyna agrees. This has to stop."
"You don't speak for her," Octavian says. "If she wants to challenge my authority, she has to come here herself."
Even at the distance of fifteen yards, Annabeth sees the woman's expression darken. "You know full well she can't." she snarls.
"That is unfortunate," Octavian sneers. "Looks like I'm in command, then."
The woman replies by drawing her gladius. "I'd like to challenge that."
"My, a little revolution?"
"No." Her eyes glint. "Just payback."
"Gwen!" Percy shouts. "Don't!"
"He deserves it," Gwen replies. "Backstabbing bastard that he is."
"Then don't be one, too," says Jason. "I know you're better than that, Gwen."
Gwen hesitates for a moment, then says, "Drop your weapons, Octavian. By the authority of our true praetor, I am arresting you on charges of treason against Rome."
That last bit, combined with Argentum to underline the legitimacy of Gwen's claim, is enough to sway the legionnaires. Realizing that he has no choice, Octavian submits and is escorted back into camp.
"Come on," Gwen says, sheathing her gladius. "Reyna will want to see you."
The praetor doesn't look at all like the strong daughter of a war goddess, Annabeth decides. Lying on a bed with her midsection wrapped up in bandages, she's pale and frail looking.
"I hope… you're not here to fight," she says to Annabeth. "I know I told you, but…"
"We… we want peace," Annabeth replies. "We found the Athena Parthenon. The gods don't need to be torn anymore, and Rome and Greece don't need to stand as enemies."
"It's true," Gwen adds. "I've seen the statue."
"Good," Reyna says. "Assemble the legion. I'm declaring a cease fire."
As if in trance, Annabeth and Percy walk along the beach. All day they've been running around, finalizing the peace terms, helping the Romans relocate their camp so that the few medics that are still around can work more efficiently. Then they've tended to the wounded, helped those who weren't in need of magical healing.
As a token of goodwill, and to show their commitment to peace, Annabeth convinced Will to heal Reyna's injuries. It took some persuasion, and Will was still grumbling, but he did it, and now Reyna is already on her feet again.
There is still hostility on part of the Greek campers, and Annabeth doesn't expect it to be quelled soon. She only hopes that, over time, they will stop resenting their Roman cousins and siblings.
Earlier, they've been to the pavilion, where the fallen have been stacked. Five days of fighting didn't leave a whole lot of time to dig graves, and it's only thanks to the camp's weather regulation and a few spells from Lou Ellen and her siblings that the corpses haven't started to rot. Annabeth only managed to stay a few moments, glance quickly at the slab of stone into which the names have been chiseled, before sadness overwhelmed her.
This little quiet time is as much of an escape as they can get, and they need it. They don't speak. The "What if" hangs in the air above them, but at least it's not between them. Never since their argument has Annabeth thought of blaming Percy for saving her, and she doesn't now. Instead she feels guilty, and she's sure that he does, too. They don't talk about the lost ones. The Stolls. Half of Ares' cabin, and a third of Athena's. One of the two children of Nike who turned up in the half year that Percy was missing. And many, many more.
They stop at their favorite spot, from where they have the best view over the whole Sound. But right now, even the magnificence of the sun sinking into the sea is no comfort to them. It rather feels like the sun is setting on their lives, after it has observed all of the death and suffering that Gaea has brought upon them.
They embrace each other wordlessly, burrowing their faces into each other's shoulder. They're both alive, but at what cost?
"I have to tell them," Percy says eventually. "We could've been here sooner."
"What's the point?" Annabeth asks, surprising even herself. "It's done now."
"I don't… want them to hear it from one of the others," Percy says.
"They won't say anything," Annabeth assures him. "They all know there's no point to it other than creating more pain."
Percy sighs. "Let me at least tell Chiron. And Mom."
Swallowing, Annabeth nods. "Okay." Hugging him tighter, she adds, "But you're not going to do that without me."
"Okay," Percy whispers. "Okay. Never without you."
The find Chiron at the amphitheater, where he's directing volunteers for their night watch with the wounded. He follows them some ways away, out of earshot of everyone else.
Together they tell him what happened in Greece, and Percy is crying while he admits that it was his selfishness that kept them for three days.
Chiron shakes his head. "That's why it's called a fatal flaw, Percy. It brings you into situations where you can only lose, no matter what you do." He looks away, over to the pavilion, then back to Percy. "You know that you could have saved a dozen lives if you'd come back here right away. That, my boy, is punishment enough for you. Carrying that kind of knowledge is more punishment than you ever deserved."
Percy is shaking like a leaf, even though Annabeth is doing her best to hold him tightly.
"It serves nobody if you tell them this," Chiron continues. "Your friends know that, which is why they haven't come forth." He swallows loudly, then puts a hand on Percy's head. "You bear a terrible guilt, Percy. Know that the best thing you can do now is to live, and try your hardest every day to do the right thing."
Percy shudders with a half-sob half-laugh. "If you're trying to tell me not to commit suicide out of guilt," he says, "you're wasting your time." He twists and slips an arm around Annabeth's waist. "I'd never do that to her, and even if I tried, she wouldn't let me."
Chiron nods, then pats Percy's head and trots away.
Loosening her embrace a little, Annabeth gives Percy enough space to fully turn and look at her. Her hands come up automatically, stroking his cheek, wiping away the tears, and pushing the hair out of his face. There's only one thing she sees in his eyes now, and it's no bravery, like she's used to seeing there. It's only sadness.
Reviews are always appreciated :).