Author's Note: Hi... I'm sorry for any of you who are waiting for my chapter stories to be uploaded, but I really, really, really wanted to write this... Seriously. I've been having so many ideas for one-shots these past few days.
So. Uh...yeah. Please enjoy, and thanks to anyone who favorite, follow, or review my stories!
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson...
She breathed in, as deep as her raw throat would allow, basking in the sweet smell of strawberries.
Basking in the sweet smell of home.
A soft breeze ruffled the grass under her hands, tickling her fingers with a soft caress.
.
The sky was blue.
.
He looked peaceful. Content.
The Apollo and Aphrodite cabins had done an amazing job in covering his wounds and giving him an illusion of flawlessness.
Anyone would have said that he could've been asleep, but Annabeth knew more than to believe such a thing, since the Seaweed Brain she knew would have his arms outstretched in sleep, incoherent mumbling and a soft snore moving his lips in the clumsiest lullaby, and the slightest stain of drool on his cheeks that had turned from an insult to the most endearing sight the world had to offer.
Not that it mattered, or so she told herself.
Perseus had sacrificed his life for the world, just like everyone knew he would. Annabeth had always known somewhere in her heart that it would all end like this.
She was proud, she told herself, over and over like a record that repeated itself too many times that it had turned into an almost meaningless drone.
He had protected everyone; his friends, his family, the gods...even the people who didn't know he existed, didn't know he had just died to save them, the ones who would never know the suffering he went through just to ensure that the world lived on.
Annabeth could do nothing to help, trapped as he discarded his only weapon to set off a bomb in the enemy's headquarters, destroying everything within yet rendering him defenseless against any further attacks.
Chin held up by rough, cruel hands, she had been forced to watch as the sword pierced through his open back and protruded from his chest gleaming with his blood.
She had been forced to watch as his expression turned into one of confusion and then horror, knowing full well that despite the legends of a strong, unbeatable hero, he was just a teenager who was scared to die, who was terrified to die, but would still throw himself at a thousand bullets if it meant it could save a friend.
And save them he did, thousands of them.
So Annabeth smiled as he faded away, knees an inch deep in his thick, dark, blood, holding his hands that shook from fear, aware of the reassurance he needed to be free. She smiled through the pain that shattered her heart, smiled though her hands stained with his life, smiled because he needed her to.
She bit her lips and continued to smile even when his sea green eyes glazed over and no longer watched her but looked beyond.
And it continued like that.
She smiled because she was proud.
She smiled because her boyfriend had sacrificed his life to save the world and she couldn't-possibly-be more proud.
.
The shroud went up in a sea green smoke and it rode the soft breeze south.
-Perseus Jackson was only nineteen, but he sacrificed his life to save the world. To save our world.
"He was a hero."
She turned her head to her best friend, who's eyes were moist with tears of grief. Annabeth stared at the little drops, trying not to focus on the pain that pierced her heart from the way she had said "was".
"Yeah."
-he was more than just a friend. He was a brother, a leader, a hero...the best hero there ever had been.
"He's always been one. From the very beginning."
Piper choked back a sob, her hand trembling from where it wiped her tears.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."
"Why?"
Her best friend pointed her finger to her chest.
"Because it hurts, Annabeth. That's why."
-His memory shall live on with us forever.
Annabeth dropped her eyes to the ground, then left the funeral because she had no further business there. She allowed her feet to carry her wherever, but shook her head and turned around the moment they touched the sand at the beach.
She didn't want to see the ocean as it churned and raged in mourning for its prince.
Instead, she climbed to the top of the hill, leaning slightly on Thalia's tree and watching as the campers left the pyre one by one until she gave up completely and just sat down.
.
"I haven't seen her shed one tear."
Her youngest sister chewed the end of her pencil, looking nervous and concerned and a little bit scared.
"You know the five stages of grief. Maybe she's still in denial."
"But she visits his cabin every day. You'd think by know she'd start accepting the truth."
"Give her time, Lucy."
She could see Malcom breathe in deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He'd always pretended otherwise, but she knew it hit him hard, too.
It was strange to go days without that lopsided grin appearing at the cabin door from time to time.
"It's been three months, Malcom. Three months. Percy's dead. It's...illogical to deny it anymore."
Annabeth sat up and threw her legs off the side of her bunk, standing up and leaving without a word. It was clear on the shocked look of their faces that they had thought she was asleep.
Not that it mattered, of course.
"Annabeth...I'm-I'm sorry, I didn't know you were-"
Uncaring of the fact that it was past lights out, she slammed the door on her guilt-written siblings and walked over to Cabin Three, fingering the knob gingerly before opening it and entering.
The only sound that filled the room was the soft trickle of the fountain in the corner.
The pillow, though washed and undoubtedly changed, encased her in the scent of her boyfriend.
.
Rain. It was raining.
Drop after drop landed on her skin, making her shiver in the cold.
Why was she here?
She looked down, frowning when she realized she had dropped her dagger.
Why did she have her weapon out in the first place?
She couldn't remember.
She bent down to pick it up, her reflection in the blade gleaming, but right before her finger touched the hilt, some strong force knocked her back and she stumbled, startled.
She glanced around, but no one was there.
Yet as soon as she reached down again, invisible hands pulled her away, and this time, they didn't stop. Deep, raspy breaths of excitement made her hair stand on its end but she couldn't see anyone around. The rain soon pooled to her knees, drenching her jeans and making her unbalanced.
Hands-hands she couldn't see-pulled at her clothes, clawed her sides, and wrapped around her exposed throat.
She couldn't move. She couldn't fight. She couldn't breathe.
She struggled against the cold fingers, even as their nails dug into her vulnerable flesh and tore at the skin of her neck. Pain ripped through her frame, making her gasp then quickly cough as the fingers closed off her windpipe. She reached up to take the hands off her throat, but horror settled into her mind when she realized she couldn't feel anything except for herself.
Her body was screaming for air as her lungs over-worked yet drew in nothing.
She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. Her vision started to haze and darken, and panic crept into her veins. More and more hands grabbed on to her, making it impossible for her to fight back.
Let go let go let go let go-
She gasped when the hands covering her neck suddenly released its hold and allowed her to draw in sweet, precious air.
A dark chuckle echoed around her and she could feel the cold fingers creeping about her skin again, but fear froze her heart and stole her breath when the darkness finally cleared from her vision.
"Too late, Wise Girl."
She couldn't breathe again, but for a whole completely different reason.
"Let me go! Let me go, you freak! No! No...PERCY!"
Oh gods, no. No no no no not him not him not him-!
She struggled against the hands, her body trembling and bloody from the effort, but she couldn't break free. Her breaths came in short gasps, and her screams of anguish melted into the wind that now whipped across her face.
The sword pierced the skin of his back, and his face formed into one of shock. It fueled her efforts to get to him, but the hands were relentless, her struggles futile, and her pleas fell on deaf ears.
The sword protruded from his chest, twisted, and then was pulled away by unseen hands.
Agony was written in every line of his face, and his hands pressed incredulously against the gaping hole where his heart has begun to cease its beating.
"Ann...Annabeth?"
The hands drew away. The damage was done, after all. She ran to the boy, dragging her feet in the heavy water, her own heart squeezing with cold, painful fear.
"Percy," she breathed.
The water around him had turned crimson in blood. Her hand fluttered over his wound, uncertain, disbelieving.
"Percy."
"It hurts."
She swallowed dryly as her mind screamed at her to do something-anything-to save him. She pressed on the wound with a ripped piece of her shirt, trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood.
They both knew it was a lost battle.
"Percy-"
"I know."
Her breath hitched in her throat.
"I love you."
"I know. I love you too."
His sea green eyes were dull with pain, but slowly, gradually, that left too, leaving behind nothing but a shell, a cold, pale, body.
Her mind frenzy with panic and fear, she checked his wrists but felt no pulse. No life beat beneath her fingers, and his glazed eyes gave no reassurance.
It was raining harder now, and those eyes seem to glare through his wet lashes. The water rose to her hips, then her neck, then soon plunged her into the depths.
Red, red, red.
The blood-the life-of her boyfriend filled her mouth, her throat, her lungs, her whole being, drowning her in the thick liquid. She screamed, but all it did was let bubbles escape, bubbles that tumbled out to the surface before popping and creating a ripple in the water.
Her hands were stained with the blood of her boyfriend.
She struggled to make it to the top, to see his face just one more time, but no matter how much she kicked and thrashed, more blood just poured in from above until finally, finally, something in her snapped and she tumbled into a world of darkness.
.
She woke up gasping, drenched in sweat, feebly fighting off the blankets that wrapped around her. All of a sudden, the cabin was too much-it was too familiar, too Percy, and the scent of sea breeze became too much and she ran out the door, barefooted and still tangled in his sheets.
Somewhere on the way, though, she must've lost them because her legs found a sudden freedom that made them move faster and faster and faster until her muscles burned and strained from the pressure and she dropped to her knees on the hills by the strawberries, panting and gasping for breath. Sometime while she slept, the sun must've risen, though the camp still slept on.
The sky was blue, and not a cloud was in sight.
Her fingers curled around the fully green grass, clutching them tightly until her knuckles were white.
His death was a sacrifice. He ended the war before they could strike for the thrones, and he saved millions of people by doing so.
She should be proud. Hell, she should be...be glad that that was how he went, blazing with life and loyal to a fault.
But...it's not that she wasn't proud. She was. It's just...something about seeing the clear, blue sky broke the hard bars that surrounded her heart.
She screamed.
Her throat was raw from all the emotions that she's swallowed back for three whole months, and the tears that had never escaped her now dribbled down her cheeks.
Her voice was filled with pure anguish, and echoed across the camp and beyond.
She didn't care if it was a sacrifice. She wanted him back, here and next to her, with his lopsided grin and tumbling laugh and the sea green eyes that sparkled with liveliness.
Pain drowned her heart so much she couldn't even tell if she was proud or not.
Of course he was a hero. Of course he was the best of heroes.
He didn't need to die to prove that.
She'd never see his silly smiles again, would never reach out to touch his windswept hair, would never find herself giggling at his funny antics. She would never hear him call out to her as Wise Girl, the nickname that had stuck through all these years, and she'd never again experience the complete perfection when his lips met hers with passion and love.
She wasn't one to believe in such things, but he was her soul mate-her other half, someone she couldn't live without. She didn't want to live in a world where Perseus Jackson was nothing but a memory.
She let out another cry, slamming her fists to the ground.
It was like she was going through all the stages of grief at once.
She didn't want to believe he was gone, couldn't believe that he was dead. Rage coursed through her veins like fire; at the enemy for murdering him in cold blood, at him for being such a selfless hero, at herself for being too slow, too late, so useless in the face of death. She'd give anything-even her life-if it meant he could come back and live again, and she was so much more than simply depressed-hysteric, maybe, something no words could begin to describe; sorrow filled her to the brim until she was sure she would explode. Well, she wasn't feeling too much acceptance, but then again, how could she?
The blue sky taunted her, sunny and dry compared to her tears.
They were supposed to graduate college together, throw their hats at the sky and yell out that they'd actually done it despite the odds that always stacked up against them.
They were supposed to have the best wedding ever, at the beach, barefooted, and surrounded by family.
They were supposed to have children, lives to protect and raise with love, and teach them the fun and beauty in life.
They were supposed to grow old together, watching the world that they had once saved pass by in a blur, holding hands on a sunny dock by the beaches of New York.
They were...they were supposed to do so many things.
He was still so, so young.
They were supposed to have a life past the wars and battles of their childhood.
Why...why did it have to be him?
She cursed him for being so damn loyal and cursed him for throwing his life out like that, even if he saved theirs by doing so.
She cursed those monsters that she had been fighting since she could remember, cursed them for taking the one thing from her that could chase away the nightmares of her past.
She cursed herself for not being better-a better girlfriend and a better fighter.
She cursed the Fates for taking him away when he still had so much to live for.
She cursed the blue that colored the sky for reminding her of what she could have had.
.
Her tears dropped to the grass below, making the plant bend under its weight before it slid and silently fell off, this time soaked by the hard ground.
The grass, resilient, stood again.
Additional Author's Note: For anyone that was confused in the fourth section, the italic words that came after the dash (-)...or whatever you call these things, were supposed to be phrases of the funeral speech.
So...yup. Hope you guys liked it! Review, please! (There goes my promise to myself to not ask for reviews...XP)