Thank you guys for all the reviews, they're all so nice! I hope you guys are enjoying the story. All rights go to Rick Riordan! Bye bye!

Annabeth

Percy looked her in the eye. He had a nervous grin shinning through the dirt, grim and blood on his face. He shifted on his feet, unable to stay still for long. His hands left his jean pockets. He awkwardly held them out.

"I think we were interrupted at Westover Hall." He seemed more nervous than facing down an army of monsters, which Annabeth had seen him do. She took his hands, and they uncoordinatedly danced through the hall. She stared up at the grey streak in his hair, matching her own, and then into his eyes. He grin a goofy grin that let her know he had no clue how to dance. She laughed and returned the look. They danced for hours that night.

The present day Annabeth woke up from only two hours of sleep. It was almost good in perception to all her other nights. She didn't get much sleep lately. It fell mostly to the fact that she didn't trust her surroundings, and the dreams she had. Every night she seemed to dream of a different way Percy could have been killed. Night after night she saw Percy stabbed, hit, thrown, and blown up, every time by a different monster in a different place.

But, some nights, she dreamed of times she and Percy shared, like tonight. It should have been better, a breath or relief from the gruesome sights, but it was almost worse in a way. Knowing that Percy would never get to do that again, never show his sarcastic troublemaker grin again. She took in a shaky breath. She needed some fresh air.

She threw on a jacket that hung on her bed post and walked barefoot out of her room. She walked through the dark halls, stopping briefly at Percy's room. She had gone in his room a lot in the past couple of weeks, but had always refused to sleep in it. That was just a different level she refused to go down to. She held onto all her willpower and continued to walk past. She couldn't prevent one last look though.

It was stupid how Percy's room symbolized Percy. He only slept in it for a couple of weeks. What did she expect to find there? His ghost? But it didn't matter. She sat on his bed, at his desk, pretended he was still here.

She knew about the five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. She'd seen some of her friends go through them. She wished she was. She wished she could just jump to acceptance so when ever his name was said she couldn't fall apart. She supposed she was in denial. Farthest from acceptance as anyone could be, but instead of denying his death, denying herself the right to feel anything. It was getting harder the longer she spent without him.

She crossed her arms and walked through the common room. Leo was asleep at the table, blue prints for some contraption slipping out of his hand. Annabeth had fallen asleep at the table before. Now she couldn't at all. She pulled the blue print from his hand and studied it. It was for some sort of flame thrower. It seemed almost funny that Leo, who could literally throw flames, was making something else to do the same. She snorted.

Leo was snoring slightly. She glanced at him and saw a thing line of drool coming from his mouth. A deep sense of sadness settled over her and she placed the blue print on the table, turned and walked away. Her feet tapped on the wooden staircase and she emerged on the deck of the ship. Piper and Jason were up there talking to each other quietly. Annabeth didn't know what was going on with them, nor did she really care. She knew they would work it out eventually.

Piper tilted her head in question when she saw Annabeth, but she shook her head. "I'm just up for some fresh air." Her voice was clear, clean. She had rid it of any strain from the night while she walked up. She walked to the other side where they couldn't see her. She needed to be alone.

Lately she had felt like a wool sweater with a loose strand. Someone kept pulling and pulling until it unraveled around her. She still held up the pile of loose yarn and tried to position it as a sweater, but she knew and any on looker knew it wasn't. She was just running around trying desperately to make the yarn a sweater again, but she didn't know how to. It might function the same as a sweater, cover her up, keep her warm, but in the end, it wasn't. That's what she was. An unraveled wool sweater.

She stared out into the dark night with the constellations. She spotted Zoe, running across the night sky, bow drawn. She remembered when that was formed. She remembered Zoe's final words. So many people gone, not enough of them remembered. The wind blew her knotted hair around, whipping her jacket along with it. She was wearing leggings. She didn't like to wear pajamas anymore. It made her feel unprepared, vulnerable. Plus, leggings weren't uncomfortable.

She let out a long strand of hair from her mouth and closed her eyes, feeling the cool air against her lids. The swaying of the boat used to always make her sea sick, but not anymore. It felt like a cradle, rocking back and forth. She felt like Poseidon was keeping the waters calm on purpose. She knew she was probably making assumptions out of nothing, but it was comforting to think that he was. At least some gods were doing somethings for them. For the first time in a long time, Annabeth felt at peace.

"I'm so sorry Wise Girl. I'll always love you!" Annabeth's eyes jerked open. In her mind an image flashed. Her on the floor looking up in horror at Percy, tear streaked, bloodied, standing with his hands on the door, saying 'I love you' one final time. Then the doors slammed. Annabeth no longer felt at peace. Her hands were sweating, slick on the smooth polished wood. She wiped them off on her pants, but her eyes started stinging.

She tried to force all thoughts from her mind, but the image was seared in. The reddish glow of Tartarus, the black river, Percy unconscious, almost dead, after the arai attack. Oh Percy. She screwed up her face, trying to stop the tears, but they came anyway. She slid down the railing, sobs coming against her will. She was sitting down, knees brought up to her chest. She was weak, so weak. She couldn't even stop herself from crying.

The waves rocked the boat. How dare she stand here a second ago enjoying the ocean when Percy never will again. She was a terrible person. Percy was the only good person in this world. He'd done so much for others and so little for himself. But if Annabeth had gone with him, if she'd closed the doors with him, maybe they could have survived. Thought of a plan. Made it out. But no. He had to do it himself. Everything he did was to protect Annabeth, but he would never allow her to protect him.

Annabeth was heartbreakingly weeping tears rolling down her neck, catching on her hands and rolling down her arms. A never ending flood. Percy deserved a shrine dedicated to him. Not this malicious end that most people don't even know. She steadied her crying to hick ups. She shakily stood up. She was falling apart. She was being selfish. Focusing on her problems when there was a war going on. She should be focusing on the new battle strategy she was making yesterday. That's what she should be doing now. Not crying her eyes out on the floor of the deck.

She turned around and rubbed her eyes. She walked back downstairs, ignoring Piper and Jason's questions. She turned into her room and grabbed her laptop. She caught a glimpse of her appearance in the mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy, eye lashed sticking together. Her cheeks blotchy, discolored. Her hair stuck to sides of her face, tears like glue. But something stood out more than anything else. Her eyes.

They were startling, in control. They were bright with intelligence, reflecting her mind that was traveling a million miles an hour. No matter what happened to her, nothing could put out that fire that burned in her eyes. That desire not only to help, but to make sure they win. Annabeth wondered if this was how Percy looked when he died. Despite being beaten down, a determination in his eyes to keep going until he physically couldn't anymore. A lot of people said she and Percy were very different people, but they were the same inside. They were both leaders. She put her laptop down on the desk and kept working.