MOA SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT. YOU. HAVE. BEEN. WARNED.

Hi, it's Rachel. It's a Percabeth one-shot, but there isn't a lot of fluff until the end. But I kept daydreaming the scene, so I decided to write it down. I imagine something like this will probably end up happening to Percy in Tartarus anyways.

By the way, if I'm not lazy, chap 11 of Determination should be out either today or tomorrow (because I have Monday off), for any of you who are following that.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own PJATO.

Thanks to SerendipityInSerendipity for beta-reading. :)

- Phobia: Percy's POV -

"Run faster!"

Percy held tight to Annabeth's hand as they wound through the endless dark tunnels, hearing the black gravel crunch under their feet and the panting of whatever god-awful monster had decided to chase after them at the moment. Both were too tired to stand and fight, so they ran, the coldness of Tartarus pressing against their skin and the despair acting like an anvil on their shoulders. Sometimes, Percy could swear he could hardly breathe from the thick cloud of monster dust and the fear that lodged itself in his throat.

They rounded a corner, fumbling blindly around in the darkness, trying to find some means of escape. They'd been running far too long, and the effects of overexertion and no sleep were starting to come into play. Percy's lungs felt like they were about to collapse into his chest.

"In here!" he hissed, dragging Annabeth down another winding tunnel, hoping to lose the monster. They flew through the opening, and Percy barely managed to grab Annabeth around the waist and stop her before she tumbled over the edge of yet another chasm that extended in front of them. It stretched as far as Percy could see on both his left and right, and he could barely see the other side in front of him through the cloud of ash and dust. They both jumped as the opening behind them skidded closed with an ear-splitting grinding noise.

Percy could hear Annabeth hyperventilating next to him. "W—where are we?"

"I don't know," Percy mumbled, instinctively dragging her closer to his side. "It looks like another pit."

"Another one?" she asked. "But I thought we were already at the bottom of Tartarus!"

Percy shook his head in confusion. He raised Riptide in his free hand, casting a dim light from the Celestial bronze over the chasm. The air inside of it seemed to shine and shimmer in the light, almost like—

Water.

Hesitantly, he let go of Annabeth's hand and approached the side of chasm. He crouched down at the edge, holding his sword close, and he gently scooped his hand down into the liquid. It wasn't water. Whatever it was, it felt like some sort of goop—pitch black in color, oozing from his fingers as he held his hand close to his face. Annabeth stood at his shoulder, leaning over and looking at his hand as well.

"What is it?" she asked. "It... it looks like oil."

"It's not oil," Percy muttered. All of a sudden, he felt sick to his stomach, the same feeling he'd gotten when he'd seen Polybotes, like all of his energy had been drained from his body and left him sick and dazed. Frightened, he quickly shook the substance off of his hand. Was it some sort of anti-water? Why was it there?

"Why is there a pit full of... liquid?" he asked.

Annabeth swallowed hard. "Maybe it's... maybe it's a tank."

"A tank? Like a fish tank?"

She nodded uncomfortably. "But instead of fish..."

"It's full of aquatic monsters," Percy reasoned. He stood up, suddenly wanting to get as far away from this pit as possible, trying to puzzle out how they were supposed to get across it if it was full of sea monsters. He figured that being the son of Poseidon wouldn't win him any points with those kinds of creatures.

Annabeth's hand trembled in his. "What do we do?"

He stared out at he water, dread burning his throat like hot candle wax. "I'm not sure—"

And suddenly, he wasn't standing on solid ground anymore.

Something heavy and slimy had wrapped around his waist, dragging him over the side, submerging him in the liquid and hindering his ability to breathe properly. The liquid flooded into his eyes, ears, and nostrils, making him retch with disgust and inhale an entire mouthful. It burned his lungs and throat with cold, ravaging his chest as he was dragged down deeper into the murk by whatever had seized him by his waist.

He struggled and kicked, trying to find the creature's head and kick an eye or something similar, but panic was invading his brain. He couldn't breathe, and kept sucking in more of the black water as he coughed and struggled. The water was closing in around him, pressing against him and suffocating him along with the monster—just like in the muskeg. Forgetting momentarily how best to conserve oxygen, he let out a raw scream and a torrent of black bubbles spewed from his mouth.

He dug his nails into the creature—it's tentacle was slimy and disgusting, slick against his hand but somehow still managing to grip him while he couldn't get a firm hold to pull it off. It only squeezed him harder as he kicked and pummeled it. Tears rolled off his cheeks from fear, making odd little pockets of clear water in the murk. He reached frantically for Riptide in his pocket, only to remember that he'd been holding it when he'd been swept over the side. It hadn't returned to his pocket yet—it was probably still sinking into the water.

He screamed again, his lungs engulfed in fire from the burning water, black dots invading his vision. His limbs began to stop responding to the distress signals his brain was sending, his kicking became weaker, and his fingers barely gripped the monster's arm anymore. He was loosing too much oxygen—he was drowning. He could barely focus from all the coughing and sucking in water, his nostrils and eyes burning, and his stomach rolling around like he was on a roller-coaster.

He let out a sob of despair, his mother's face flickering in and out of his vision as he began to loose consciousness, and he wondered if dying hurt. He'd never thought about dying itself, it had never seemed like much of a reality until now. Would it be like blowing out a candle, or would he feel the impact of his body shutting off? He didn't know, but he didn't really think anything could hurt worse than this.

The monster squeezed him one last time, and he let of a cry of pain. He wasn't going to last much longer. His vision was fading out, his mother's face dimming, the cold of the water fading away, the tentacle slipping from around his body...

Percy.

Percy, it's okay.

Percy, it's me.

Calm down.

Percy's eyes shot open into the darkness of his cabin on the Argo, flickering around wildly as if he wasn't sure where he was. His hair was plastered to his face with sweat, and the sheets were tangled around his legs from his thrashing around. His chest was heaving, and his throat still burned, as if he'd just actually come out of the black water.

Annabeth was leaning over him, looking concerned as she ran her fingers through his hair. She was the one who'd been calling his name—she must've heard him mumbling in his sleep. She looked slightly rumpled from sleep, her hair pulled up into a messy bun out of her face. She bent down and engulfed him in a hug, gently kissing him on the cheek.

"Nightmare?" she muttered into his ear.

He nodded slightly. "The drowning one."

She pulled away slightly and studied his face. "You know it's just a phobia, right?"

He sat up stiffly. "A stupid phobia. What son of Poseidon is afraid of his own element?"

"The one who almost died in it," Annabeth pointed out, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Though I wouldn't really call that black stuff water..."

Percy sighed and pushed his hair out of his face. "Stupid nightmares, stupid Tartarus..."

"They'll stop eventually, Percy," she said. "I've been having them, too."

"I know," he murmured. "It's just frustrating to not be able to get a good night's sleep anymore."

"I understand," she murmured, rubbing his shoulder blades. "Maybe I could stay here. You know, see if it helps."

Percy's cheeks flushed. "You mean—"

"It's just sleep, Percy," she grumbled. "What's the difference if you wake up with another body laying next to you?"

"But Coach Hedge—"

"Doesn't have to find out," she interrupted. "Besides, even if they do, we can tell them the truth. Honestly, I think a good night's sleep isn't too much to ask for."

He sighed, and stared at his hands. "Um... okay. But how do we—"

Annabeth just climbed under his sheets and snuggled up next to him like it wasn't awkward at all. His cheeks were completely red, but he wrapped her in a hug anyways and closed his eyes. Maybe this wasn't so bad. He supposed that falling into Tartarus did have a few perks—like being able to share a berth with your girlfriend due to 'emotional instability.' He finally managed to drift off again, listening to her soft breathing.

Needless to say, he didn't have any more nightmares that night.

Aw. Fluff. :)

I haven't written Percabeth in a while, which is strange because I've been having so many feels for it right now. Maybe the fact that Rick threw my OTP into the pit of hell is the reason why I can't manage to get anything done but sit on the Percabeth tag in tumblr and cry over everything.

But I'm still working on the Paul one-shot among other things, so hopefully I'll get some more stuff out.

(On a random note, I'm typing these AN's on my iPod touch, and I just figured out that if I shake my device, it'll give me an option to undo my typing. Pro-tip for any of you iPod users out there...)

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading. Reviews are always appreciated. :)