A/N: Thanks for the all the support. Especially those who have reviewed, followed or favorited.

Here it is, the long-awaited continuation to that cruel cliffhanger.

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. All rights go to Rick Riordan.

Chapter 32

If The World Was Ending

Thalia

Thalia was crouched behind a statue of Athena. Her eyes scanning the five hundred men and women gathered, most of them screaming for blood. Monsters. That's what they were. Under their fine clothing and human flesh, they were nothing more than cold-hearted beasts that had no regard for the sanctity of life.

Percy was unconscious and tied to a wooden board. Even from here, she could spot the wounds that littered his face. Rage coiled deep within her. White-hot rage. How dare they lay their filthy hands on him?

How dare they stand there—the council that condemned him. Cowards who didn't even have the dignity to face him. At least, it would mean less people to worry about when Annabeth enacted her plan, which was apparently now.

A guard scrambling up the stairs and screaming, "Plague!"

Nicely done Annabeth. Nicely done.

With that one word came pandemonium. Hundreds of people shoving and fighting as they made a mad dash for the exits. Thalia used the commotion to her advantage. Seconds later, she was standing before Percy, her fingers trailing at his wounded cheeks after having carried out the impossible task of checking his pulse. He was alive but his skin was torn from what looked to be several beatings and nothing she did seemed to stir him awake.

It took everything in her not to turn and hunt down those bastards who had done this to him. She wanted nothing more than to watch her blade slice through them. Nothing except having Percy back at her side.

Scolding herself for the delay, Thalia sliced the ropes that held him in place. His figure slumped forward and fell towards her. She barely caught him, his arms dangling awkwardly over her shoulders. As carefully as possible, she scooped him up and into her arms.

In that time, the screams and panicked motions were enough for her to not be noticed. Not by anyone but Khnurn. He shot her a grave look before being carried away with the tide of the crowd.

What was that about?

With all that was on her plate, Thalia did not have the time or the mental capacity to deal with the thought. She ran in the direction opposite to that of the crowd. There was no way in hell she would make it through the flood of bodies without being spotted or worse, trampled on.

Unfortunately for both her and Percy, that meant leaping off a cliff face. It was not the furthest of drops. She had survived far worse. But usually, she didn't have an unconscious Percy in her arms. Whispering an apology, she jumped and willed the winds to cushion her fall as they had done once before.

It did not work as well as intended, the added weight too much for her abilities as of now. Percy flew out of her arms as she landed in a roll, knees scraping against gravel and drawing blood. Blinking away the pain, she rose to her feet and gathered Percy up into her arms again. A quick inspection was not enough to reveal if the fall had hurt him in any way. He was, after all, already covered in wounds.

Around her, Athens had fallen into chaos. Screaming, wrestling, looting. The refugee tents that had lined the streets, scattered, torn, ablaze. Tents that had for a moment restored her faith in humanity. So much for that.

Thalia pushed on, towards and through the city gates that led to the port, and to her surprise found it completely deserted. Annabeth's plan had worked to perfection. Crates of goods and supplies were littered across the wooden floorboards of the pier and some of the small fishing boats had been overturned—drifting across the water aimlessly. The people must have left in a hurry. Thalia spotted their boat or more accurately, the figure waving from the deck.

Annabeth paled when she noticed Percy's disposition.

"What happened?"

"Don't worry," said Thalia, as she lay Percy on the deck. "He's alive. He's just out cold."

"Thalia," Annabeth demanded her attention as she hovered over Percy. "Tell me everything."

"Annabeth," Thalia gulped. "You're scaring me."

"There's no time for that now. I can't be sure, but I think he's been poisoned."

"What?" Thalia shouted. "What do you mean, poisoned? He was about to be executed."

"Try to remember everything—every detail." Annabeth was examining him now. Checking his pulse then his tongue. "Was he unconscious the entire time?"

"He was when I arrived," Thalia managed, her breaths not quite reaching her lungs.

"Anything else," Annabeth waved her on urgently. "A chalice, perhaps."

Had there been a chalice?

Yes. There had been one laying before Percy. She had kicked it aside in her rush.

"What color was the liquid inside? Clear?"

"I think so."

After having examined his eyes, Annabeth stumbled back and buried her face in her hands.

"No," she seemed to whisper to herself. "It's hemlock. I'm sure of it."

"The cure?"

"There isn't one."

Thalia felt the world spin at Annabeth's words. No. Not after all they had been through. Not like this. Out of desperation, Thalia sent a shock through Percy.

Percy

Darkness. That was all there was. Endless darkness. That was the only thing that ran ablaze through Percy's mind as his life faded away. But then there was that voice again. The one that had become like a song to him. And he felt a different sensation pass through his body. Searing hot like the poison, but entirely different. It was one that dragged him back to the light—further and further away from that eternal darkness…

And then he was face to face again with those remarkable blue eyes. The ones that had dragged him out of many a nightmare. Thalia. She was here. She had saved him. Percy felt his chest tighten, not in a good way; his heart and lungs shriveling up from the lack of air; his throat constricting his voice. Percy clawed at it desperately. It was all he could do, as he stared at Thalia's eyes for what felt like forever—for what could be the last time…

Thalia

"He's awake," Thalia shouted. Her voice a strangled sort of half-cry, half-laugh.

"Then he might still survive." Annabeth's voice not lacking in conviction but still entirely unconvincing. "We just have to wait till it's out of his system. Demigods heal faster and have a stronger constitution…but I've never heard of someone surviving execution by hemlock."

Suddenly, a wet choking sound came from Percy as he clawed at his throat—his eyes wide with panic. Thalia held his gaze, hoping that the sight of her might calm him. After all, the reverse was always true.

"Enough hemlock will disable the respiratory system," Annabeth continued. "His body is struggling for breath."

Another idea struck Thalia, also born of desperation. She readjusted herself so she was sat next to him, his head cradled in her lap. A position she was all too familiar with. A position in which she had lost her world. This time, it would be the one in which she saved what was left of it.

"What are you doing?" Annabeth asked, fighting through her tears.

"Saving him," she answered. She closed her eyes and offered another silent prayer to the gods, Zeus included. She wielded all her emotions. The anger and the sorrow and most importantly the joy. The joy she felt when she was with him. The way her heart fluttered with every smile offered.

Thalia fired out her senses as if they were a million little arrows streaming forth from her. And it was only in that moment did she realise how the currents of air were like individual threads that held the world together.

This was her domain. And hell-be-damned it would bend to her will. Thalia opened her eyes to find Percy's. Those eyes that were profound in every way. Gentle, honest, beautiful, steadfast. The anchor that had saved her from that internal sea of eternal sorrow.

And it was the fear of losing that anchor that sent her own respiratory system into a spiral. She had to get a grip of herself. For him, she had to try.

Thalia drew a deep breath, feeling the power of it, of her chest, her lungs, and her heart. And when she was confident, she willed her power to mimic it, to transfer the energy from within her and to Percy.

When next her chest rose, so did his. She took deep breaths. In and out, in and out, the pain in those tortured eyes fading as he stopped clawing at his throat. And then he was smiling that beautiful smile of his. The one she had so easily become beholden to. Unexpected but not unwelcome.

A heartbeat later, and Percy had faded back to sleep, the hint of that smile lingering.

It was everything to her. To see him look so at peace.

"Keep doing what you're doing, I'll set sail" Annabeth said, finally breaking the silence. She was wiping away her tears with the sleeves of her armor and looking to Thalia as if she was some kind of goddess. "As long as he keeps breathing, his father's blood will fight the poison. You actually did it. You've saved him."

"The distraction helped," added Thalia, her smile tired. "It was more effective than I would have ever expected. A whole city in chaos—just like that."

Annabeth's lips quirked into a sly grin. "If there is one thing that Athens fears more than Sparta, it's the plague. It was the great plague that truly defeated Athens, you know?"

"I thought it was Sparta who had them defeated."

"That's what both sides would have you believe. Much more glory in it that way. The truth unfortunately isn't. It was through this very port that the plague infiltrated the city, killing men, women, and children. A hundred thousand Athenians dead. It crippled their economy and their resources. Suddenly, there was no one to operate all their triremes or to die on the battlefield. And that, my friend, is how Sparta obtained final victory over Athens."

"So," Thalia started, leaning back against the railings. Gods, she was tired. She had never once used her power in such a sustained manner. And though the action was small, she could feel it draining her reserves from the sheer precision demanded. "You used the same port and spread rumor of a plague. Quite the devious one, aren't you?"

"Oh," Annabeth grinned again. "You have no idea. I even hired a bunch of traders to act like they were infected. A few tomatoes were involved here and there—a lot of people coughing fake blood."

Thalia let loose a hearty chuckle and even that caused her heart to strain. Annabeth noticed her wincing.

"Don't talk. Focus on Percy."

Thalia nodded. She was right, for Percy's sake she would have to maintain complete focus.

"I'll stay beside you—make sure you don't pass out."

Thalia nodded again, squeezing Annabeth's hand in what she hoped to be a reassuring gesture. So there they sat, drifting across the sea as they prayed for Percy's survival.

Percy

Percy had escaped the darkness. That much he was sure of, for beside him lay Thalia, her back against the curve of what had to be a ship's hull. If he hadn't been so distracted, Percy would have sensed the ocean's presence the moment he woke. But distracted was all he was. Could you blame him? Only moments ago, he had thought himself dead. Now here he was, a heartbeat away from embracing what he thought would be his dying wish.

So, why the fear? Why did it feel like what he was about to do would be harder than anything that had come before? What was it with this heaviness that grew in his chest?

It should have been easy, surely. Reaching out a hand or even moving just an inch. Perhaps the trepidation was just concern. After all, she did look quite at peace, snuggled asleep in that cloak of hers.

Minutes passed and still he found naught the conviction he sought. But before he could further deliberate his next action, she stirred. Hand's stretching outwards as she blinked away her sleep. It only took seconds for her to turn his way, concern lingering across her features.

Their eyes locked. A heartbeat was all it took for him to lose himself in those swirling shades of blue. His final request, fulfilled. Unfortunately for him, a heartbeat was all she needed for her concern to turn into fury.

Thalia huffed and turned away.

"Hey," whispered Percy, tugging gently at her cloak. "Thanks for saving me."

She pulled her cloak from his grasp and scooched away.

"What else is new," she murmured.

Fair enough. He deserved that at the very least.

"I don't know why I bother," she continued. "Why should I care for your life when you yourself do not value it?"

"I…"

"You what, Percy?" Thalia snapped. "You're sorry? So what? Now everything goes back to normal. I forgive you for all the pain you put me through. Is that it?"

"Thals," started Percy, inching his way closer. She turned to him, cheeks damp. "What else can I say but I'm sorry. You cannot expect me to condemn my actions. I did what I had to. That is all that's left for us now."

"Don't," Thalia hissed. "Don't you dare make this out to be some heroic action. It wasn't. It was cowardice plain and simple. You chose the easy way out. A mad suicidal swing at absolution that may fool others but not me."

"Thalia," Percy managed. "You know that's not true."

"Do I?" She challenged. "You feel at fault for what happened to your village. Guess what Percy, I did too. I didn't think you'd be so quick to forget, seeing that you were the one who told me to move on. Do you think the ones you lost would want you to join them?"

"I…"

"I've heard enough," Thalia cut him off. "This is yours."

In her palm, sat his ring. She must have taken it off him when she had tackled him in the council chamber. Percy was at a loss for words. He remembered his promise. That he'd die before it left his finger. A promise he thought broken, for he was sure it was one of the damned guards who'd taken it for themselves. But here it was-

"Never forget that this is what you were willing to give up," Thalia finished impassively as she dropped it into his hands. She rose and stormed off and up the nearby ladder, leaving behind a stammering mess.

Percy gathered himself and considered her words. Thalia was right, wasn't she? Not entirely perhaps, but in the ways that mattered. A part of him had agreed to the plan for selfish reasons. That if he succeeded, it would be easier to live with his mistakes.

Percy had been so hung up about his past failures that he had almost done the unforgivable. He had almost thrown away the one chance of finding his mother.

But then again, he also knew that the main reason he had agreed to the plan was to protect his friends. Better it be him. That was his promise—his mandate.

It was all so confusing, he decided, head buried in his hands-

"A friend once told me to give her time—that she meant well."

It was Annabeth, her figure shrouded in shadows and leaning against the far wall. "It was not long ago that Thalia's anger was directed my way."

"How much did you hear?' asked Percy, wincing from the effort of standing up.

"Not a lot," she smiled. "But I was with her the entire time you were out. I can guess what was said. And frankly, she's justified in her anger. We thought we were going to lose you."

"What?" Percy protested. "It was your idea."

"Which I later agreed was too dangerous."

"You're impossible."

"Why thank you."

"Did it at least work? The plan, I mean."

"Sparta has its aid," Annabeth's smile, tired.

"Good," said Percy. "I can't remember much after the poison. Was it really that bad?"

"What do you think, Percy?" Annabeth chided. "You were on the brink of death—tiptoeing its very precipice. If it weren't for Thalia…" Annabeth's voice trailed off, her expression filling in the blanks.

"She stopped the poison?"

"Not quite," her brows knitting in deep thought. "She kept you alive somehow. Sheer will, perhaps. According to her, she helped you breathe."

"Figuratively?" Percy raised his eyebrows.

"Quite literally. The control and precision it required took an immense toll on her. After that first night, once you were able to breathe on your own, she was knocked out for almost as long as you were."

"First night? How long have I been out?" Percy's jaw clenched, his entire body tensing up.

"Don't get yourself twisted in a bunch. It's only been two nights."

Percy's muscles relaxed. Two nights. He supposed it could've been worse. For instance, he could be dead. And that thought reminded him of the promise he had made in all the pain.

"Annabeth," he said, nudging her with his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"I need to tell you something. When I asked you to research those creatures, it was because I believed that maybe, just maybe, my mother had survived."

Annabeth held his gaze for a moment, realization flashing across her features. "Melas oneiroi—you think that perhaps what you saw that day was a distortion of reality. A manifestation of your worst fears."

"I don't know what to think. Even if I did not see what I thought I did, I know for a fact that she was in the house and surrounded by demons. I also know that a majority of the village had lost all semblance of sanity. Where does that leave her? Hope is all I have left now. Even if it is a slow and insidious killer."

"I understand," added Annabeth. She shuffled closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. "My father went on an expedition to India when I was very young. He was a historian you see, an explorer. He never returned, and till this day I still hope."

Percy reached across and rested his hand atop hers, squeezing slightly. "In case anything happens to me-"

Annabeth shut him down immediately. "It won't."

"It almost did," he argued. "I know you said that we don't leave each other behind. That if we go…we go together. But I can't afford that. So, if anything happens to me, after all this is over, go to Kastelli. Help me find out what happened to her and if she's alive, tell her that I love her."

"I promise," said Annabeth. "But it is a promise I will not have to fulfill. Because you will be the one to do it."

"You never concede, do you?" He mused.

"Never," she grinned back.

"So, what's the situation out there like? What have I missed?"

"Come and see," she beckoned Percy to follow her above deck. He obliged. And what greeted him when his head cleared the hatch was not at all what he expected. The sight sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. The last time he stood before a crowd of people, he'd been executed.

This crowd however, closer resembled how he'd been, all beat up but defiant. They were nothing like the horde that had called for his blood. In their eyes, that similar sort of haze. As if no matter how much they smiled, and how much their situation improved, what they witnessed could never be forgotten. And what they had lost could never be returned.

"We've hit up Chora and Paros so far." Annabeth explained. "These people are what is left of those islands—the only survivors of the countless attacks they faced. Naxos is next. We should make land in a couple of hours."

Percy, though, was once again distracted. His attention drawn wholly to Thalia. She was standing at the prow of the ship, her hair dancing in the wind. He wanted nothing more than to be by her side, but even from here he could see how tense her shoulders were. His presence would only earn her ire. He was sure of it. Only time and sincerity would heal this wound he had imparted.

Deep down, Percy was sure Annabeth was right. Thalia was indeed justified in her anger. For had Thalia done as he had…

No. He would not have allowed it.

Isn't that the entire point, a part of him yelled.

He had gone against her wishes even when she had gone as far as to plead. If she had been poisoned…

Then what?

He would have been useless, wouldn't he? He would not have been able to save her like she had him-

"Earth to Percy," Annabeth waved her hand across his face. "What is up with you?" She asked, tracing his gaze, a curious smile playing on her lips. "Oh," she gasped softly. "So, it has come to this. Honestly, I should have seen this coming from a mile away. It's not the first time I've watched my friends fall in love. It's always the almost-dying that gives us perspective."

"Uh huh," Percy nodded, still distracted. It took him a moment before he realised what Annabeth had said. "Wait what?" He stammered, a sudden warmth rising to his cheek.

Annabeth leaned in closer, head tilted in a conspiratorial manner. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Though…I doubt it'll stay a secret for long if you keep looking at her like that."

Percy let out a nervous chuckle. "Like what?"

"I don't know," Annabeth flailed her arms for greater effect. "Like that. That burning fixation of yours. Your eyes always searching for hers regardless of the situation. The world could be up in flames and still it would be only her that catches your attention. You should tell her, you know. Life is short—shorter still for demigods."

"If you haven't noticed," said Percy. "She's too busy hating me for what I did."

"She could never hate you," replied Annabeth.

"Now's not a good time."

"Oh look, another excuse," teased Annabeth, her smile only growing wider.

Percy shot her a glare.

"You know I'm right."

She was, wasn't she? And even if she wasn't. What he felt for Thalia was real. Viscerally and scarily so. If not love, then something just as strong. For loving came easy to him. He loved his mother and despite his father's absence, Percy had always loved him. Damascus, Emily…so many faces that he had loved in his own way. Annabeth, like the sister he had always wanted. Chloe and Damian who had nurtured him. All of them, loved.

But Thalia. Nothing about what they had was easy. Every moment a delicate dance. Implosion waiting at the slightest of missteps. Yet, despite it all, Percy could not imagine life without her in it. For hidden between and sometimes within these implosions, were sparks. Beautiful little vestiges of life. Two broken souls that had been adrift for so long that they had almost forgotten what it was like to be whole. But there, in that one intangible space, they almost were.

And it was that intensity in which he felt for her that had him so afraid. Afraid that Thalia may not feel the same way. Or worse, that by opening up, he may shatter the illusion he thought real.

Gods, he was a mess.

"I'm terrified," he finally managed, eyes flicking wearily from Thalia and to Annabeth.

Annabeth prodded him forward, her palm flat against his back. "That's when you know it's real. So, go"

"What if-"

"Just go!" she pushed him a little harder.

"You're relentless," he murmured, gathering himself and walking Thalia's way. But then as if sensing his presence, Thalia threw him a look from over her shoulders and that was enough for the panic to set in. Percy froze, turning on his heels and returning to Annabeth. She awaited him; a blank stare painted across her features.

"I can't do it. Not yet. Not like this. Not when she's still angry with me. Not when we're fighting for our lives every day."

"If not when the world is ending, then when?"

"I don't know," Percy pouted. "I just know that the moment has to be perfect. And this is not it."

"It's your loss," said Annabeth simply. "Not mine."

"Wow, thank you for being so understanding."

Annabeth flicked him on the forehead. "You're welcome. Anyways, I'll be going below deck now. There are still wounded villagers who perhaps could use my help. At least down there, they appreciate my advice."

It was only then, when he had been left stranded by Annabeth, and all he could do not to think of what she had said was to look for something to do, did Percy notice the two dozen men and women who were rowing the boat onward.

Percy cleared his throat and addressed them. "Thank you all for what you have done. But please, let me take it from here. You have earned the rest."

Percy closed his eyes, reaching for the immense, unrelenting power that was the ocean. The currents that had drifted many to safety and as many astray. He sent a part of himself across them, feeling how they twined and mingled and snaked across the sea. Percy imagined himself untangling them like he would a fishing net-

The ship lurched forward, old wooden boards creaking against each other. The path had been cleared. Their newly found speed was enough to convince the villagers to rest. Percy endured the rumbling of their footsteps and the grinding of the oars being pulled in. Then it was a return to the silence.

It was peaceful, being one with the sea. It was as if all his troubles would drift away and across the horizon, never to be seen again. After a long time, Percy felt another power brush against his in silent invitation. Percy stole a tentative peek and spied Thalia, who too now stood with her eyes closed, her head tilted up to the sky.

Percy released the iron grip he had enforced on his power and felt his strength return. The sky and the sea united in one purpose. The boat stood no chance.

Feeling such power coursing through his veins was enough for him to feel a little brave—adventurous even. He directed his power to lap playfully against Thalia's, the waves doing the same against the hull, sending mild sprays of water on deck. Thalia pushed back. The winds beating down his miniature waves.

Percy stole another peek her way, spotting what he thought may be the makings of a smile playing across her lips. It was that sight that convinced him that at least one of his fears had been unwarranted. What they shared was no illusion. And whatever it was, he would ensure it be unbreakable.

And there you have it. A whole boat-ton of Perlia

Finally, one of our two lovable idiots has come to a realization

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