Summary: Percy and Annabeth fall together.

A/N: Well this only took me, what, eight months since MoA came out? We're still talking about this, right? My take on "the fall" – spoilers ahead, on the off chance you haven't gotten your hands on Mark of Athena yet. Also, I'm sorry this always takes me so ridiculously long to update.

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own any of this. (Except my own emotional turmoil.)


Suspended in that moment, Annabeth's world was a blaze of pain. She thought absurdly of her ankle – how would it ever heal in Tartarus?

A one-way trip. A very hard fall.

Hard, indeed – and nine days long, according to legend.

Time seemed to slow down as they plunged into the icy darkness, and soon there was nothing but the darkness, sucking them in, drawing them downward. The tiny speck of sunlight from above was swallowed up by it, and their friends' voices, too. She couldn't see anything – not her hands, not the walls of the pit… not Percy.

Her heart clenched in panic before she realized they were still holding hands. She anchored herself to the point where they were connected, willing her mind to fight through the haze of pain and focus on that one thing: They were still together.

She realized then, with a jolt, that it wasn't just her who might have seen their last sunlight, or heard the last of others' voices. Percy was falling to, he was falling with her; he was falling because of her. Because she failed.

Another pain shot through her, this time the sharp stab of guilt. She had to choke back a sob. It was only then she realized hot tears were already leaking out of her eyes – only they were flying upward instead of running down her cheeks.

It seemed so unfair that she had come so close, only to lose at the last minute. She had outsmarted the cult of Mithras. She had escaped the spiders. She had defeated Arachne, secured the Athena Parthenos, completed her quest – and then she had fallen. It was like the gods didn't want her to ever be too comfortable, too confident.

Life wasn't fair. Demigods knew that better than anyone, but the knowledge tasted bitter on her tongue.

No, not the knowledge. It took her a moment to register the coppery taste of blood. She must have bitten her tongue without even realizing it when she'd been jerked backward.

It was so fitting – a child of Athena on her way to almost certain death, all because of a lousy spider web.

But Percy was a child of Poseidon. He was never meant for this fate. The only reason he was here was because he was unfortunate enough to love her. Percy and Annabeth, always together, from he very start. Bound together by a prophecy. A quest. A friendship. A mission. A war. A love.

A thread of silk.

She squeezed his hand, and when he squeezed back she realized that she should have known this was how it would always be. They laughed together, they fought together, they survived together – and they would fall together, for better or for worse.

She felt him pull her up to him – or maybe he was pulling himself down – and then they were clinging to each other, pressed in a tight embrace.

She wondered how long they would be allowed to hang on.


As the sunlight slipped away from them, two words ran through Percy's mind: My fault.

Maybe, if he'd gotten there faster… if he he'd seen the string before it was loose… if he'd gone with her… if he hadn't let her go at all…

Gods, how could he have been so stupid? The Athena Parthenos was nothing – nothing – compared to Annabeth's life.

He'd once been warned that he would destroy the world to save a friend, and he'd never felt that was true more than he did now. He knew that he would give anything to get Annabeth out of this. She would hate him thinking like that, he knew, but it was hard to be logical when you were free falling toward every monster you'd ever slain, and then some.

Briefly, he saw a flash of New Rome, the vision he'd had of them living there, going to college… maybe having a family. It was all slipping away from them like the last speck of sunlight that had vanished moments ago, and there was nothing he could do about it.

As long as we're together, she'd said. Together – it was more than just a word; it was the fundamental truth of their relationship. There couldn't be one without the other, not anymore. When he'd been in California, she was his beacon in the heavy fog of uncertainty. Before, on Ogygia, he might have stayed if he hadn't known what was waiting for him back home. He'd turned down a place among the gods for a mortal life with her, because where she went, he would follow. Even to the Underworld. Even permanently.

She had always been his light in the dark. Her hair would be his sun now, her eyes his stormy sea. If she was all he had, that was fine – as long as they were together.

He felt her squeeze his hand, which made him hold on tighter. Her touch made him feel something other than dull anger; he felt an overwhelming sense of determination as the full weight of everything they were fighting for settled over him. He had seen what they had to lose, and he refused to let go of that.

Mustering the last of his strength, he pulled their bodies together and wrapped his arms around her. He felt a glimmer of hope knowing they'd always protected each other, and always would. He wouldn't let go of her again – they still had something permanent to build.