This is all in Annabeth's P.O.V. I might write more of this story like this. I put a lot of effort into this one. Please read and review.
Someone nudges me awake. It's just Marcus. I had fallen asleep in Percy's cabin, my hand in the water. Cuddles is nibbling on my finger. Marcus hands me my pack. Has he snuck into my cabin and packed my clothes? "They're empty, Annabeth." he says like he's read my mind.
"Oh," I say, sitting up. "I sent an Iris Message to Grover. I couldn't get through, but there was a voicemail. It was him and-uh-He was passing out."
"When was it?" he asks.
"March 21st," I was going to tell him the signifigance, but his nod told me he already knew.
"We can't suspect anything, yet. Go get packed. I told Chiron we were leaving today."
I get up and leave the cabin with Marcus. He walks me to my cabin. As we walk, I actually begin to notice him. His pale, olive skin, red-ish lips, beautiful blonde hair, deep navy blue eyes. He's good looking, to be honest. But even if Percy really was dead, he would be my last choice. Everyone would be my last choice. No one could replace Percy. Maybe if he was dead, he'd be in the Elysium. Maybe if I died in warfare I could meet him there. I wouldn't cause my own death, though. Never. Actions like that don't deserve Elysium.
I think of the last time I saw Thalia and Nico. They walked into Percy's cabin last night, not expecting to see me . . .
"Oh, hi," Nico said. "We were just,"
"It's okay," I replied.
"Do you need us to leave you?" Thalia asked.
"No, no," I look down into the pool. "Percy wasn't mine. He was everyone's."
"He was more yours than anyone." Nico commented. "We know about his empathy link and all."
"Do you believe me?" I asked.
"Of course we do, Annabeth," Thalia insists, but I could hear negativity in her voice. "We're just not as sure as you are."
"Do you think he's dead?"
"No," Nico spreads his hands. "We just aren't going to get our hopes up."
Before I know it, I zip up my pack and sling it over my shoulder. I walk to the door, not daring to meet his gaze. I don't know why he's coming. Maybe because he's cared for Percy. I can't say we were close friends. Clarisse could be a better quest partner, though I'm not sure you could call this a quest. I must say, though, that Marcus and Percy and I have had our times. Once, during a special game of capture the flag, we made an alliance. The game lasted for a week. Five flags for each team, hidden throughout the woods. Everyone was fighting to the death. Many campers were wounded. All were healed and are still here to this day. There were a few casualties, though. Percy, myself, and Marcus made an alliance. He swore if we got hurt he could heal us. In the end, we won.
I consider going to see Tyson. I should have a long time ago. People say he's been in the arena all this time with Mrs. O'Leary, trying to keep her occupied while Percy is away.
I have to go tell him. "I'm going to stop and speak with Tyson," I say.
"You should," he says. "He was in the infirmary a few times and asked me to update him whenever possible. He couldn't bare seeing Percy like that." Marcus's words don't make me feel better. I walk into the arena, leaving him at the door.
"Do you want stick?" Tyson asks Mrs. O'Leary. She barks loudly. Tyson flings his arm, throwing the stick far into the other side of the arena.
"Hey Tyson." I say in a sheepish tone.
"Hi Annabeth," he smiles and waves. He then runs up to me and pulls me into a hug. "How is brother?"
"He's good," I lie, feeling a tear fall onto my shoulder and some coming to my own eyes. "We're going to find Grover. He and Percy had an empathy link. Long story short, Grover's been missing and Marcus and I are going to find him. If we find him alive, Percy is. If not,"
"I understand," He pulls away and wipes tears from his eye with the back of his hand. "Just find Grover,"
"I'll try my hardest to bring him back but I can't make any promises. Tyson you know what this could mean, right?"
"Yes," I can see the sadness in his eye.
"I have to go now," I say, wiping tears from my eyes. My throat feels dry and my heart empty.
"Be safe," Tyson says. I nod sadly. I turn slowly on my heels, then turn back. I run to Mrs. O'Leary and hug her. She nudges me sadly and whimpers quietly.
"I know," I whisper. "I know."
And with that, I leave. I walk straight out of the arena, not waiting for Marcus or even acknowledging that he's still there. My trip into the arena has made me feel even more terrible than before. Marcus could have dropped dead and I wouldn't know. I feel miserable, like the life has been kicked out of me. I feel the way I did when the man beat me.
I recall the dream I had in Percy's cabin.
There he was, sitting in Elysium, as peaceful as ever. He has a sketchpad out, as if he ever drew. I was there in Elysium with him. He was terribly pale. I sit beside him and look at the sketch pad. It's me. An older version of me. I was standing up. Only my torso and up was visible. He drew me looking down at my torso, so peaceful looking, so happy. My hand was on my swollen belly.
"Where are you?" I ask.
"I haven't drawn myself yet," he says. His voice is so distant. It sounds so unfamiliar and I realize I haven't heard it in months. "There's so much detail I have to put into you. There's so many little things. If I miss one, the drawing will be messed up. And so will the future."
"Percy," I scoot closer to him. "If you mess up on a drawing, it's not going to affect our future."
"You don't know that, Annabeth!" he almost screams. "This has to be perfect, just like you." His voice returns to normal and I realize that this is what's keeping him asleep and unconsious. Maybe this drawing has something to do with everything. Maybe his self-consious won't let him return to normal until he finishes the drawing of the two of us and our unborn child. If he makes one mistake, he might just stay in that infirmary forever. Not dead, but still not alive . . .