Disclaimer: R^2 is the bossman.

Annabeth

_._._._._._._

The sun dipped under the crest of the Long Island Sound slowly and languidly, as if Annabeth's entire world wasn't in danger of crashing down around her. The bonfire back in the amphitheatre was dim and listless, as it had usually been since the work on the Argo II. Annabeth stood at the end of the dock and a sudden salty breeze made her shudder. Still, she just stood there and stared across the water. A sudden thought crossed her mind.

If I dipped my feet in the water here, would he sense me all the way over there?

It was an irrational thought, but for some reason it still caused some hope to bubble up in her. And although she silently chastised herself for thinking such foolish thoughts, she sat down on the edge of the dock and let her toes skim the surface before plunging both her feet under the icy tide. She stared for several moments at the now visible stars reflected on her toes.

"Annabeth?" a voice said from behind her.

She didn't turn to face the speaker. "It's curfew time," Malcolm said softly. Annabeth nodded and reluctantly pulled her feet out of the water and spun around. Malcolm held out his hand and she used it to pull herself up. The motion caused a sudden twinge of pain in her shoulder. After a long day of training, her arm would sometimes ache if the muscle was used a certain way; just one more reminder of the boy who was constantly leaving her waiting and searching.

Annabeth and Malcolm walked together back to the Athena cabin in silence.

_._._._._._._

Annabeth's dream that night was not exactly a dream at first; it was a memory.

She was lying on a lounge chair on the terrace of the Plaza Hotel. Yet somehow, this memory was different. She should have felt the burning of poison seeping through her veins and the pain of her wound, but she only felt heavy and bogged down. And she was completely alone.

She shut her eyes and listened to the eerie silence. Then the memory became purely a memory, and every molecule shouting at her to open her eyes and embrace the approaching person had no authority over her actions.

"Annabeth," a voice croaked.

She opened her eyes and realized with a start that this was not the Percy who belonged to this memory. His eyes were older and filled with a pain he couldn't have known in this memory. Annabeth wanted to reach out and smooth the wrinkle in his forehead, but she had no will in this state.

"Poison on the dagger," she mumbled, with a voice that didn't feel like her own. "Pretty stupid of me, huh?"

He came and knelt next to Annabeth, placing a hand on her forehead. Those pain-filled eyes were still staring at her longingly. There were a thousands things she wanted to shout at him, but the only one thing she could say was, "You're cute when you're worried. Your eyebrows get all scrunched together."

He seemed to be having the same problem. He said, "You are not going to die while I owe you a favor. Why did you take that knife?" but the way he said it, it was almost like he didn't know why.

"You would've done the same for me."

This time his voice was almost a whisper. "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

He leaned closer, and Annabeth could see that this Percy had felt more pain than he could bear. "My Achilles spot. If you hadn't taken that knife, I would've died." His voice was hoarse and cracked in the middle of his sentence.

Annabeth closed her eyes and felt the lie come out of her mouth. "I don't know, Percy. I just had this feeling you were in danger." Because I know you, Seaweed Brain! she wanted to shout. "Where…where is the spot?"

"The small of my back."

"Where? Here?" Annabeth felt her hand lift without her mind's consent. Then Percy's hand was on hers and it gently moved it to his Achilles spot. She felt the smooth skin of Percy's back and it seemed to shake her of the memory's control.

"You saved me. Thanks." Percy's voice was soft.

She could have said one of a million things, but she replied, "So you owe me. What else is new?" She had to choke the words out, but it was the only thing that felt right.

Percy didn't reply, he only laced his fingers in hers more tightly. They stayed like that for a moment, until Annabeth shuffled her body over on the plush lounge chair and patted the empty space. Percy stared at there still intertwined hands before relinquishing it to settle in next to Annabeth.

Neither spoke, they just stared at each other like they only had this moment. When a harsh gust whipped Annabeth's hair in front of her face, Percy's hand automatically reached out to tuck it behind her ear. The gesture was so familiar it made Annabeth's heart ache.

"You have to stop disappearing like this, Percy" she whispered as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

He stared at her before pulling her into his arms and resting his cheek on top of her head. "I know. I'm sorry. But you'll look for me, right? You'll try to find me?" he said quietly, as if he thought she might refuse.

She pressed herself closer to him, trying to memorize the way he felt. "I don't know where else to look," was her hushed reply.

Percy pulled back sharply and looked her directly in her eyes. "You've never given up on me before," he said surely.

She nodded silently as he stroked the gray streak in her hair. He leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, "Promise me."

Annabeth reached around her neck and released the clasp on her necklace. Without separating herself from him, she slid her dad's ring off the leather and refastened the necklace. She took the ring and curled Percy's hand around it. She looked up into his eyes and whispered, "I promise."

All Annabeth had seen in those green eyes until now were chaos, fear, and pain; but now they reflected a sort of hope or reassurance as he leaned down to kiss her. Annabeth let her hands curl in his hair as his arms encircled her waist, pulling her tight to him. For a while they just laid there, legs and breath intertwined, and Annabeth let herself have this moment—this dream—because it was the only thing she could give herself to stay hopeful and strong when the others needed her to be.

After a while, the two just curled into each other, and Annabeth let the rhythm of Percy's heart lull her to deeper, more real sleep.

_._._._._._._

Annabeth gently drifted somewhat into consciousness and hovered blissfully in-between awake and asleep. When the past night's dream came back to her, she bolted upright. She could still feel his kisses burn on her lips and the feel of his chest beneath her hands. The sensations made her miss him fiercely, so much that it made her throat close and her stomach lurch.

The sudden rush of anxiety was too much, and Annabeth's hand went to her neck for a sudden outlet of energy. But the usual weight that pressed into her collarbone was gone. She felt each one of the nine clay beads but…

…not her dad's ring.

A/N: I'm writing angsty stuff again...this can't be good (although I hope you enjoy it).

Companion to: Somnium Mederi Suum Cordilium