"Silence is a source of great strength." –Lao Tzu

Silence.

Delicate, fragile, serene silence.

So many sought it, so many couldn't stand it. The brittle quiet that shattered at the simple mention of its name.

She had always revered silence, because it was such a difficult thing to find, such an easy thing to break, and often taken for granted.

Kind of like a heart.

Silence meant that no one was crying, no one was hurt, no one was screaming in heart-shattering, mind-wrenching pain. She had become so used to those noises–the screams and shouts and cries–that when they halted so abruptly, giving way to nothing at all, she was caught off guard.

To some, silence was just a break in between noises. To others, it was a different sound on its own. She liked silence, like the sweet, simple peace it brought, the olive branch it connected between sounds. Silence was a symbol of release. But now, silence was an unwelcome intruder, the thing she dreaded most.

What once was her saving grace now had become the bane of her existence. It had turned into something she cursed; yet, she still expected to hear it every morning, as much as she wished she didn't have to.

Every moment that passed of the unbearable, excruciating-still quiet, the cracks that lined the seams of her already-broken heart widened a little more. The tears that dripped out of her gray eyes appeared a little more often. The feverish whispers that seemed to come from the very depths of her tortured soul became a little more desperate, a little less loud. And the strong, seemingly unbreakable will that made up her soul, her very being, started to give up a little more.

The false hope that she had supplied herself with from that start was proving to be just that–false.

She was intelligent–perhaps more than most–yet hope was something that made the days seem a little shorter, when in reality, it made the wait become a little longer. The temptation of hope had clouded her brilliant mind. Silence had a hand in all of this; by saying nothing, the hushed tranquility laid out the simple story of everything.

•

Months passed.

The rest of the campers left her alone. Let her mourn by herself, wrapped up in her suffocating blanket of silence, sometimes joining her to momentarily break the never-ending period of quiet. Some of them whispered words of fallacious encouragement while others just succumbed to the numbing quietude.

A year went by.

"I–I'm sorry, Annabeth," Will whispered, coming up behind her. It seemed at times that the daughter of Athena spent more time in the infirmary than her own cabin. "I've even asked my dad–he says…" The sunny expression that was usually on his face deflated. "He says–"

Annabeth sighed running a hand through her hair; she seemed defeated, inside and out. "I'm not an idiot, Will," she cut in, tears threatening to cut into her voice. "I know he's gone. I can tell when a person isn't coming back. Actually, I knew from the beginning."

She bit her lip, turning gray eyes towards the hospital bed. "I just–I just wanted to keep him for myself…" She laughed bitterly. "I sound so selfish…" she murmured. "I just wanted to see him a little more before he belongs to Hades forever…" That one wish sounded so simple, but hours turned to day, months, and finally, a year.

Will nodded. "Do you want to do the honors?" he asked.

Annabeth almost laughed again. "Well it's hardly an honor, but I guess… It's the least I can do after making him stay like this for so long."

He had been lying there for an entire year now, in this blurry stage between life and death–forever swimming in his own mind. Never being set free.

Annabeth had taken solitude in the peaceful sight of him lying there, completely stress-free for once in his life. But the obvious change was the loss of his voice, of sound, of life. And that was what broke her, once and for all.

Annabeth took a deep breath. "Goodbye…" Tears finally seeped out of her eyes. "Seaweed Brain…"

She pulled the cord from the wall and leaned into Will, pouring her heart out in the form of a salty flood as Percy's soul floated away to the lands of the Underworld. All that was left for her to do was wait, listening to the metronomic rhythm of silence.