Disclaimer: All PJO characters belong to Rick Riordan.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Percy

"There is no pretending. I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there is life after that, I'll love you then."

-Jace, City of Glass

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Percy was a wanderer.

He had been since he was a little boy. When he was sad, frustrated, or angry, he would just wander aimlessly about until he felt better. He used to scare his mother half to death by running off down the street after getting into a fight with her. After a while, he had stopped running off, content to just wandering around his house.

One of the bonuses about taking part in a dangerous love affair with the princess, Percy decided, was being able to wander around a giant castle after getting into a fight with said princess.

He scowled at the ground as he walked through the hallways. Annabeth was being so unreasonable. The doctor literally told them that no one who had undergone this surgery had survived. Everyone had died, and Annabeth was willing to do it? She was willing to sacrifice what little time she had left for a one-percent chance at survival? What about him? Why didn't she care about him? He felt like he was as involved in this as she was. Everytime she screamed and thrashed around, fighting off invisible demons, he felt as if he had that tumor as well. Just like Annabeth, Percy had to see his biggest fear everyday: watching her die.

He just wished that she would see his side of this. Right now, they had about two weeks together. Two weeks that could be wonderful, full of cuddling, stolen kisses, and whispers underneath the blankets. Instead, she was going to do this surgery, and limit their weeks to days - days in which, they'll probably be fighting.

Percy closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the wall. Would they be fighting the rest of Annabeth's time alive? Yes, he was mad, but he didn't want that. If she was going to die in this surgery, then he wanted to make sure that she had the best last days possible. He had a gut feeling that the only way that would be possible was if he was there.

If only he wasn't so angry. He knew he was being selfish. He knew he was being a jerk. Annabeth didn't deserve this. He had to see things from her perspective. He was being the unreasonable one. Annabeth was trying to survive. She was fighting the best way she knew how. He had to respect that about her. She had loved him, she had fought to save him from execution, and now, when she was fighting for herself, all she had asked for was his support and he had deprived her of that. Gods, he was an idiot.

Without really even thinking, he turned back around and made his way back to Annabeth's bedroom. It was dark outside, he was surprised to see. He must have wandered for hours. It felt like hours before Percy finally made his way back to the bedroom. Seriously, the palace needed some maps posted on the wall in every hallway to help people navigate.

Annabeth's room was almost completely dark except for one lonely candle on her nightstand. Percy stumbled over his steps a little bit, cursing quietly into the dark, before he made his way over to Annabeth's side. She was curled up on the very edge of the bed, her arm strewn out and falling over the side. Her other arm was curled against her chest, her hand forming a fist right over her heart. Her hair was a big curly mess, making a golden halo on her pillow. Her face, for the first time in a while, was peaceful as she slept and Percy marveled in her beauty, watched as the candlelight cast dancing shadows over her face. He bent down to his knees, becoming eye level with her, and reached a tentative hand out, brushing a curl out of her eyes. His fingers brushed her cheek and in just that simple little touch, Percy felt entirely too much energy run up his arm, straight to his heart.

Percy cracked a small smile. He was dying also, but instead of dying from his fears, like Annabeth, he was dying from too much love for this girl in front of them. He knew that despite everything, no matter how often they fought, he would always love her.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

And then she stirred, but not in a good way. After another half a minute of watching her sleep, her features scrunched up painfully, and she fisted the sheets beneath her, squirming in her sleep. Percy's heart stopped as he watched, in paralyzing horror. He always felt like that when she was having one of her spells. The thought of Annabeth in pain horrified him to a point where he physically could not move for a solid minute because his pain was too great. It wasn't until a small whimper escaped Annabeth's mouth that he came to his senses. He reached out and shook her gently, trying to rouse her from her nightmare.

She awoke with a small gasp. Her beautiful eyes flew open, and it hurt Percy to see the fear in them. She looked around frantically, maybe trying to remember where she was. Then, her gaze settled on Percy, and he saw her relax a little bit. He framed the side of her face with one hand, and ran his thumb over her cheek. He knew that this action soothed her. Eventually, her breathing went back to normal, and she placed her hand over Percy's. Her eyes fluttered closed. "Percy . . ." she murmured, nestling into his hand.

Percy's lips formed a soft smile. "Hey," he whispered. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here. You're alright. It wasn't real."

"Percy. . ."

Percy's smile fell. He knew that she was out of it, woozy with exhaustion and fear, and probably wouldn't remember all of this in the morning, but he had to say it anyway. "I'm sorry, Annabeth. I'm sorry for fighting with you. I hope you know it was just because I love you, and I don't want to lose you any sooner than I have to. This is hard for me too, because if you die, I die, and I don't want anything to be scary for you, but this surgery scared the crap out of me and . . ." He paused, taking a shaky breath. "I want you to know that you have my support. I'll be here for you every step of the way, okay? I love you so much."

Annabeth sighed with content and Percy leaned forward, covering her lips with his. And sure, she might have been half asleep and dying, but she still kissed ridiculously well. Percy could feel himself melting as they kissed. He remembered earlier that day, when he had been helping Annabeth get ready to go see the doctor. Tying her corset had been the hardest thing he had ever had to do, and not because tying a corset was bloody impossible, but because Annabeth was too perfect and standing there, trying not to kiss every inch of her, had required the all of the self-control he had. He felt the same way now, kissing her. All he wanted was to deepen this kiss and hold her, and whisper promises against her skin but he couldn't and that was the most frustrating thing ever.

He pulled away after a minute because he needed to breathe. Annabeth sighed happily again and sunk back into her bed, her eyes closing again. Percy chuckled and leaned forward, giving her a soft good-night kiss. Just as he pulled away, Annabeth grabbed her hand and murmured, "Stay." Then, after a moment's hesitation, she added on half-heartedly, "And that's an order."

Percy laughed quietly, slipping off his shoes and climbing in bed on the other side of her. Annabeth shifted, and Percy slid his arm underneath her head so she could use it as a pillow. She laid with her back pressed into him, her head neatly nestled into his arm. Her arm stretched out again, her fingers slipping into his so that their hands hung over the side of the bed in a large mass of tiny limbs. Percy's other hand slid around her waist and he pressed light kisses all along the back of Annabeth's neck and along her jawline, not stopping until he felt Annabeth's body relax and her breathing pattern became normal. He wanted her to fall asleep to the feeling of his lips on her skin at least once in her short lifetime.

Percy fell asleep himself immediately after.

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When Percy woke up, it was still dark.

Annabeth was still sound asleep next to him, her chest rising and falling with even breaths. Percy wondered if maybe she had made a sound in her sleep and that had woken him, but she didn't appear to be in any state of distress. Percy looked around the room, but everything looked to be in place. Shrugging it off, he settled back into the bed, pulling Annabeth closer, and closed his eyes.

There it was again. The small echo of footsteps in the hallway, Percy could tell now. He wanted to ignore it, but there was something nagging him in the back of his mind. Who would be up at this hour? Everyone in the castle should be asleep, even the servants. Something wasn't right and Percy wished it wasn't in his nature to be curious, but it was. He slowly untangled himself from Annabeth, all without waking her, which seemed a pretty impressive feat, and grabbed his shoes, tiptoeing to the door.

Someone was turning the corner of the hallway when Percy slipped out of Annabeth's room. Percy threw on his shoes and bolted after them. "Hey!" he called, still somewhat quiet, of course, to respect the people sleeping around him. The man was already halfway down the hallway, but at Percy's call, he froze and turned around. Percy's face molded into a scowl.

It was Luke.

"What are you doing out so late, Luke?" he demanded, irrational anger rising up in him. Well, it wasn't really irrational, he supposed. Luke was a monster who was trying to hurt the kingdom and, most importantly, Annabeth.

Luke gave Percy a scowl of his own. "You're one to talk," he sneered. "Why were you in my fiance's room?"

Percy's hands clenched into fists. Oh, he wanted to deck this guy so badly right then. "She's not your fiance," he said, teeth clenched.

Luke gave out a boisterous laugh, as if Percy was a little boy who tried to make a joke and Luke was laughing out of sympathy. "I believe she is," he corrected and as much as Percy hated it, he kind of was Annabeth's fiance. It just made the situation even more sick and twisted.

"You didn't answer my question," Percy said, changing the subject. "Why are you out so late?"

Luke sighed dramatically, shrugging and leaning back against the wall. "I had some late night business to attend to," he explained, "though that's none of your business. What I'm more interested in is why I heard a rumor that Annabeth was left alone in her room all day, screaming and crying. Do you have any idea?" He raised his eyebrows in mock curiosity. Percy didn't say a word, silently seething in place. He had no right to throw that at him like it was a knife. He had made a mistake; he wasn't going to do it again.

Luke laughed his cocky laugh, and clapped his hands together. "So it is true!" he exclaimed, sadistically delighted. "You two had a fight, didn't you? Bit of a lover's spat, huh? Well, it was bound to happen anyway."

Percy knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but he couldn't help asking, "What was bound to happen?"

Luke smiled. "She was bound to begin to hate you after a while."

Percy shook his head. He refused to believe that. Annabeth loved him. They had gotten into a fight because they had loved each other too much - Annabeth had loved him enough to jump at that one small chance of survival and Percy loved her enough to let her die for just a little more time together. He knew that Annabeth loved him, and didn't hate him. After all, who was the only person able to calm her down after a particularly bad nightmare? No, Annabeth loved him. That was the only thing he was truly sure of.

"She doesn't hate me," he voiced, but Luke ignored him. He clearly wasn't done with his insult.

"After all," he snarled, "who could love a murderer?"

In that moment, time froze. Percy flashed back to that moment, what seemed like years ago, when they were in the town in the woods, and Percy had killed that man to protect Annabeth. It had been purely instinct. He had seen a man hurting her, and blinded by his anger, he had driven a sword through him. Since then, he hadn't stopped to let himself think about that, to feel guilty over ending a life.

Until now. Because he knew, Luke knew.

The only thing more terrifying than killing someone is having that secret be put into the hands of someone evil.

Without thinking, Percy lashed out at Luke, weaponless but fists swinging. Anger blinded him. How dare he? How dare he bring up that memory, and then throw it at him like it was a weapon? He didn't have the right to. That secret was strictly between Percy and Annabeth. He managed to land a punch on Luke's jaw and then another in his gut before Luke had him pushed against the wall. He pulled out his sword and slashed Percy's side, cutting open his shirt and slicing the skin underneath. Percy cried out and grabbed his wound, watching as blood spilled out onto the ground from between his fingers.

Luke pressed the point of his sword into Percy's collarbone. Percy glared fiercely as Luke instructed him, "Get moving. You're under arrest for attacking a person of royalty. I'm taking you to the prison."

Percy spit at Luke. "You're no person of royalty. I know the truth about you. You're just a lowly peasant from a town no one knows exists or even cares to know and-"

Luke punched him in the jaw. "Shut up!" he hissed. Percy gave him a smug look, feeling triumphant that he had managed to hit a nerve with Luke.

The triumph quickly died as he was led to the prison. There were only a few guards on night duty and when they saw Percy coming, being led by swordpoint by Luke, they perked up. He knew that the guards all hated him. It was only natural, considering his past. They stood to attention as Luke and Percy grew closer and saluted to Luke. Luke nodded at them and pulled Percy to a halt. Percy glared at each of them.

"Lock him up," Luke ordered and even though he offered no explanation as to why he needed to be imprisoned, the guards did as told, grabbing Percy and shoving him forward. As Percy entered the prison he had become all too acquainted with just a few months ago, he could feel Luke's smug stare on his back. He had thought he had won. Well, he hadn't. Percy refused to let him win. Somehow, he would figure out some way to get out before Annabeth's surgery. He needed to be there for her. He couldn't sit in this prison and let her die in that surgery without saying goodbye.

The guards stopped outside of a cell, unlocked it, and ever so rudely threw Percy inside. Percy stumbled, and the door shut and locked behind him. He could hear the guards ambling away, snickering and talking to each other.

"I knew he was trouble," one of the guards said. "You owe me ten pieces."

Percy sneered at the door. Then, losing all of the fight and anger in him, he fell against the wall and slid to the ground, letting his head fall into his hands. Groaning, he muttered to himself. "Not this again."

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"Jesus told her, 'I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even after dying. Everyone who lives in me will never ever die.'" John 11:25-26a, NLT