Percy tapped his foot anxiously against the linoleum floor of St. Mary's Hospital. The walls were painted a bright baby blue, which was usually his favorite color, by tradition, but now it just seemed too cheery to exist when Annabeth might be dying.

How could this be happening? After everything that had gone down in the past few weeks: Luke dying, defeating Kronos, winning the war... it didn't seem right that Annabeth might die just because some son of a bitch traitor demigod had stabbed her almost immediately after the Titan Lord and his army.

And why weren't they telling me anything? I was her best friend for Zeus's sake! St. Mary's wasn't a normal hospital, either. It was a hospital just for Greek mythological creatures, like a larger version of Camp Half-Blood's infirmary.

Camp Half-Blood. If Annabeth died, I couldn't possibly return there. There were way too many memories. Final days of summer, chariot races, Capture the Flag, Thalia's Tree, the battle last summer, and maybe most importantly, Luke.

I wondered if Annabeth had meant what she said about not loving Luke. I also wondered why she'd looked at me when she said it, but after all that we had been through, I don't think I was that much of an oblivious idiot. I mean, Annabeth had kissed me when she thought I was going to die. Now I was in her place, and I couldn't even kiss her.

I suddenly remembered what had happened with Rachel at the start of the war, how we'd kissed. It had seemed so insignificant during all of the commotion, but now I felt extremely guilty. I knew her and Annabeth had never gotten along too well, and although they had been progressing, I got the feeling that that would change if Annabeth knew I had kissed her. Why had I wasted that kiss on Rachel? I mean, she was awesome, a great friend and all, but that was... it. Annabeth and I are like a part of each other, like after all that's gone down, she and I would always be the one thing tied for life.

Whoa, what am I even saying? Do I have feelings for her? I mean, Annabeth was amazing, probably the best friend I would ever had, but were we just better of as friends? What if confessing destroyed that friendship? I wouldn't lose Annabeth for the world.

But I knew something had changed. Or maybe nothing had changed. Perhaps now my feelings were just coming to the surface. All I really know is that if she was gone, which was too scarily real to picture, well... I couldn't live life without her. She was my wise girl.

Annabeth was the smartest girl I had ever met. Not just someone who was able to memorize facts or got straight-a's. No, Annabeth was intelligent. She was witty and resourceful, proud and confident, and even though she wasn't always rational in her decisions, she always did it out of devotion. She always had a plan, just like her mother.

Athena. Where was she? She must've known something had happened to her daughter, she was in Olympus when it happened, and she's a goddess, she must have known her daughter was in danger. Why was I here and she wasn't?

I spotted Grover running – well, more like trotting – towards me, holding a can of ginger ale. I knew the soda was meant for me, the tin can for him.

"Hey, man," he said shakily, managing a smile. "How you holding up?"

"Not at all," I confessed. Then I noticed tear streaks on his face. I realized how hard this must be on Grover, too. He'd known Annabeth since she was seven, ever since he rescued her, Luke, and (kind of) Thalia. He'd cared about her just as much as I did.

"What about you? You've known Annabeth for nine years, you must be so scared."

"I am scared for her," he agreed. "But probably in a different kind of way than you are." I remembered that Grover could read my emotions, so he must know all the things racing through my mind about Annabeth.

Grover pulled out a photo. It was of me and Annabeth, at the fireworks, after the battle at Camp, when Grover caused a Panic. We were away from the rest of the campers, in the sea. We were lying on our backs, looking up at the fireworks. Annabeth was in a blue bikini that matched the sea, but I was in my regular camp shirt and shorts, since I couldn't get wet. She had a smile plastered on her face, one I'd never seen before, and she was holding my hand. I remembered her being the one to take it.

Looking at it made my heart skip a beat, and the only thing in the world that I wanted was for my Wise Girl to wake up and crack a joke. I wanted to see her gray eyes. I wanted to see that traitor demigod dead. I wanted to see that smile return to her lips.

"Ahem," a doctor said. I looked up. "Percy Jackson? I believe there is someone you'd like to see."