Percy was bad at archery. Very, very bad. Annabeth would have thought that after so many years at Camp Half-Blood training with the Apollo kids, his shooting would have got somewhat better. Apparently not. As she got bulls-eye over and over again, Percy, Seaweed Brain he was, shot them so far out of range, he shot one behind him and the instructor barely had time to yelp, "Hit the deck, holy crap!" Before the arrow whizzed over the groups -gathered behind him to watch his disastrous performance - with a merry whistle. Not even years later, had Annabeth comprehended how he had managed that.

Dan sighed as Annabeth walked, or swaggered really, to the front of the group and stood before the target, bow tight in her grip. She decided not to care that Mr James, had sighed as so or thought her a show off. Or perhaps was just sick of the sight of her, with she constantly flouting around with her boyfriend. Carousing through the day, seemingly without a care. Or so he had told her and Percy upon finding them that morning.

Carousing?
She was seventeen, she wasn't going to have teachers breathing down her neck all the time. She hefted the bow and plucked an arrow from the table, which played host to the myriad of blunt arrows they were using. Annabeth slotted the arrow into the bow, as she had done many times and pulled back on the bowstring. She imagined herself become the bow, the arrow, the target. Imagined the moment it would hit the yellow circle in the centre and imagined the elation. Elation of which she had indeed felt many a time but never ceased to lose its joy. She let go of the taut string in her hand and let the arrow fly. It sang like a bird, with a graceful and flawless flight. With a thump, it embedded itself in the circle marking bullseye.
The class stared in awe, Dan sighed again and marked a line on a piece of paper.
"Miss Chase, seventh bullseye." He mumbled with acquiescence.
Beat that suckers.

It was around five when Annabeth, Percy and their cohorts finally finished their activity. They traipsed out in an unorganised mess, kicking twigs and leaves as they passed through the woods. Stepping out into the sunlit clearing where the complex sat was like drawing back the curtains first thing in the morning before school. The sunlight was blinding and bright. Hisses rippled through the party, as if they were vampires. Well, they were pretty much. Dan gave them a little wave of the hand, signalling for them too go to the complex and frolic around doing whatever they wanted to do to occupy their time until dinner. Percy bowed and held out an arm to Annabeth, like an escort. She curtsied gracefully and rested her arm on his. They marched to the building in that fashion, talking in refined voices and laughing. Laughing so hard it stung.

Percy pushed open the doors of the recreation room and lead his girlfriend in. The room was big, it had an upholstered bench running around its perimeter, and big windows, which filtered the light into the place. It was dotted with ping-pong tables, snooker tables, cupboards full of board games and computers. They sat down heavily in the corner, on one of the benches, and wrapped their arms around each other, drawing comfort from the other's presence, as if their heart's could sustain not only the body of his host, but also of its lover. If one faltered, so would their partner.

After a long, slow hour of kissing, a bell rang out through the halls. Annabeth stood, gasping for air like a fish. Percy heaved himself to his feet alongside her and roped an arm around her shoulders. They were the last out of the room, conflicted between going to dinner, or spending some time alone down here, but were dragged out in the end by a small boy in Annabeth's class names Matt.

"Nuh-uh lovebirds," he had said wit preamble, "Not leaving you in here alone." And he had promptly grabbed both their arms, and with surprising strength dragged them out into the corridor and towards the mess hall. Annabeth's laughter has been repressed so much she had thought she would explode.

The food wasn't much. Or perhaps it was, but Annabeth, being so accustomed to the delicious food at camp, found it meagre and dull. She bit into a grey slice of pepperoni pizza, and pulled a face. With a jolt, she was reminded of Tartarus. When she had woken up in Hermes's shrine, to find Bob munching on such food. Panic began to rise in her throat, nausea threatened to crash over her, her pulse picked up speed. She clasped a hand to Percy's arm to steady herself. He looked at her quizzically, but then saw her expression. Gently, he drew her nearer to him, until she almost disappeared into his T-Shirt.

"Tartarus?" He whispered in her ear. Annabeth nodded mournfully, choking back on a whimper that came with the memories that flooded over her. She wasn't ashamed to react like this with Percy, he was a) her boyfriend, and b) suffered from the same: Same random panic attacks and whimpers and memories that accompanied their voyage through Tartarus. He was son of Poseidon, he couldn't drown, yet sometimes the memories seemed too. Seemed to drown both of them alike. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

The sun was barely visible over the horizon. Peeking out as if it were a child hiding behind the sofa as thy watched a horror film. The sky was stained in hues of red, orange and pink, in suck enthralling shades that it was possible to forget oneself. A vague recollection nibbled at Annabeth's brain: a Cherokee story Piper had told her, passed down from her grandfather. Something about walking towards the sun and somethings out the land of the dead or ghosts? It was a lore along those lines. Annabeth imagined doing that now. Walking towards the orange ball of gas - Apollo, whatever- and never looking back.

She and Percy lay side by side in the grass. It was an hour before curfew, and a few kids, themselves included, were enjoying the crisp, beautiful evening. Cliques of said kids adorned the clearing, interspersed among various clumps of tall grass and trees.

"I wonder, should we Iris-Message Chiron, one of these days?" Annabeth was saying, "Ask how camp is, see a friendly face."

"I guess, I do miss the old Centaur. Also Grover."
Grover was their old Satyr friend who was incidentally, also Lord of the Wild.
"Mmm, well, let's do that tomorrow morning, 'right Seaweed Brain?"
"'Kay."
Percy yawned and hoisted himself into a sitting position. Annabeth hooked an arm around his shoulder and leant her weight on him as she sat up. He turned and smiled tiredly at her, his green eyes gleaming in the moonlight. With a smile in return, she pressed her lips to his, and at once the world was sucked away. It seemed to Annabeth, that the world could be ending and she would not have cared, she would have stayed in that position anyway, dying with Percy.
Okay that had pretty much happened, a little close to home.
The world was saved anyway, the most the gods could do was grant her this time with Percy. To let her drift endlessly, with feet above the ground and let the regrets and qualms she had slide away into oblivion. To let her this moment without troubling her every minute of every day. She continued to soar like a bird, at ease.
And... No.
She spoke to soon.
They finally broke apart and stared towards the sun, which had something... Odd about it now.
"Tell me that's not what I think it is!" Percy pleaded.
The sun crashed to the ground before them.