A/N: I'd like to thank my betas: AlEmily360, SapphireTrafficker, tigerlilycorinne, AshenMoon42, Lesbian101, Shiuanc2, and LadyHW.
There were few places Annabeth wanted to be less than outside the door to Percy's apartment. She didn't knock—she couldn't bring herself to do it. In her mind, it transformed from a simple motion to a never-ending list of steps that would lead to an inevitably awful conclusion.
Step 1: Lift hand
Step 2: Reach out
Step 3: Make a fist
Et cetera, et cetera.
Maybe she could pretend she never got the text. But she couldn't—she'd already responded, agreeing to meet at this time and place, and she wouldn't—she was done hiding from things.
Fortunately, Annabeth didn't have to knock on Percy's door. Unfortunately, that was because Percy was already opening it, looking down at her with a frustratingly neutral expression that didn't reveal at all what he was thinking or feeling. But Annabeth could assume.
She had been imagining, anticipating this conversation for months, writing and rewriting it in her head. She'd been over all of her talking points, and planned for all of his. She was prepared for the yelling, and possibly the crying (she hoped there wouldn't be any crying) that was to come. She was ready for her whole world—or what was left of it—to come crashing down around her.
Percy didn't say anything; he just turned around and walked back into his flat. It felt like a long time since Annabeth had been here. There was a new painting on the wall, another glittery abstract. The room was still well lit and small, but was messier than before, with empty chip wrappers and soda cups lying around, and cluttering his coffee table.
He walked over to the dumpster kitchen table, where the folder was lying innocuously next to the remains of a smoothie. Annabeth stepped into his flat, closing the door and removing her shoes. She felt like she was holding her breath, waiting.
"Here," Percy said, picking up the folder and tapping the edges against the counter to neaten the papers. He held it out for her to take. "It seems like you might need this back."
Annabeth stared at the folder in his hand. She didn't take it. "You read it."
When it became obvious that she wouldn't take it from him, he put it back on the counter. "Yeah." He pressed his lips together. "Sorry."
Annabeth waited for him to say something else, but he just stood there looking at her. She tried to read his expression, but he just seemed… slightly bewildered.
"I can explain," Annabeth said. It felt like a cliche.
Percy nodded, lips now pulled into a frown.
"I didn't—you weren't supposed to find out. Not yet."
"So you were going to tell me?" he asked.
"I—well," She looked over his shoulder, out the window at the newly green trees. Light green leaves were unraveling themselves onto its branches. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it off her forehead as she searched for something to say, something that would make him understand.
"You weren't," he said. Not a question. "You were going to let me, what? Find out from your friend? From a funeral invitation? Oh right, maybe not because I'm 'Percy Question Mark'."
Annabeth was almost relieved to see that he was getting angry. It gave her an idea of what to expect. "I thought that since we weren't seeing each other that much—"
"It wouldn't hurt so much?" Percy finished. "Annabeth, for someone so smart, you really can be so fucking dumb."
"After we saw Leo in the hospital, you said—"
"I know what I said. Jesus Christ, those weren't directions. You don't think I'd miss you just as much if you died just because we didn't hang out as much? I miss you now! I've been missing you."
He was being too soft. The way he looked at her...it reminded her of the first time he had told her that he loved her. After all the pain she'd caused him, she couldn't face all of this love that was being thrown back. She had to look away, turning her face to look at the new art on his wall. The paint was splattered and smeared in heavy lines across the canvas in a riot of colors, chaos in a painting. It seemed like a good summation of her thoughts at this moment.
"Annabeth, look at me."
She shook her head, blinking rapidly.
"Please."
She just kept shaking her head.
"Please." His voice came from much closer this time and she felt his hand on her shoulder, pulling her closer. After all this, and he still wanted to be close to her.
"I can't," she choked out, pulling away from him. She looked at his face as it fell, disappointed.
"Why not?" She wished he would stop sounding so worried about her.
"Because I'll cry if I do," she said, even though she was already crying. She moved to the other side of the room, putting space between them.
"Annabeth, I'm not mad. Okay, I'm a little mad, but I get why you didn't tell me. I could have sworn your timer said something different, but I'm not the most observant…"
Percy didn't know. Percy knew she was dying on her birthday, but he still hadn't connected the dots between her timer inconsistencies. He didn't realize that he was the missing link, he didn't realize that she had been lying to him in more ways than one. And that almost made his earnest forgiveness worse.
"You should be mad at me," Annabeth said. If she was going to ruin everything, then she would do it now, herself. Percy was right about one thing—it wasn't fair to him to let him learn what she'd been keeping from him from somewhere else. She had to tell him now. "I've been using you."
Percy stopped mid-sentence, face screwing up in confusion. "Wh—"
"You're not unobservant, Percy, you really did see different numbers on my timer." She looked down at her wrist, currently covered up by the sleeve of her shirt. She pushed it back and read the numbers out loud. "See. Says it here."
"I don't get it, then what—?" His eyes drifted to the folder on the counter.
"My timer doesn't read like this when I'm not… with you. My whole life, it's been the same, I was ready for it, but then I bumped into you and suddenly, I don't know, they changed." She sniffled and wiped her face. She had never thought that she would tell Percy herself, no matter how many times she had entertained the idea of doing just this. She'd stopped crying and she stopped feeling afraid. She knew what she was giving up, and she was letting go, willingly.
"Why does it…?" Percy was staring at her wrist. She shrugged and his eyes followed the motion.
"I don't know. I've talked to some people about it—"
"Nico?"
"Yeah, him, but no one really knows." She thought about what the doctor had said to her in Thalia's hospital room. "Timers aren't as exact a science as they'd have you believe," she said, repeating the words.
Percy seemed to be thinking about it, chewing on his lip and rubbing a hand over his head, almost too rough. "Maybe I'll save you?" he said, hopefully. Annabeth couldn't believe he hadn't caught on.
"I—Percy, don't you get it? I used you!" Annabeth said, voice coming out louder than she meant it. She gestured between them. "None of this is real!"
"What do you mean it's not real?! Of course it is!"
Annabeth didn't even care at this point that she was purposely riling him up—she just needed a bigger reaction from Percy, something that matched the visions she'd been imagining for months, something that matched what she deserved. "Don't you get it? I'm dying in less than three months! And I used you to stay alive. Why are you being like this?!"
"Because I don't care!" Percy yelled back, hands brandishing widely. "Use me! Please use me, especially if it's going to save your life. I don't understand why we're even fighting about this, Annabeth. I love you, of course I'm going to do anything it takes to make sure you're okay! Don't you love me?"
Annabeth spluttered. Of course she loved him. Loving Percy Jackson was as natural as her lungs breathing air and her heart pumping blood. He seemed to see the expression on her face as confirmation.
"I know you do. I know it. So why are you trying to push me away?"
Of all of the things Annabeth expected him to get mad about, this didn't even occur to her. What about the fact that I lied to you? What about the fact that our relationship is built on a sham? She wanted to scream at him, cry at him, plead with him to see it for the betrayal she knew it was. Anything to make it easier for her to step away.
"Are you trying to make yourself miserable? Do you—Annabeth, do you think you deserve this? To be unhappy?"
Annabeth felt like she was unraveling. Or maybe the opposite, like someone was tugging on a loose string, pulling her tighter and tighter, impossible to untangle. She pressed her lips together, refusing to speak.
Percy looked like he wanted to move closer to her again. He turned away instead, leaning on the sink and looking out the window. "I keep thinking back… all these little comments you kept making. 'I don't have enough time.' You've said that a lot. I don't get it, Annabeth. Enough time for what? What are you doing right now that you need time for? Being with loved ones? Seeing the world? Because I don't see you doing anything but ruining your own life, and you've been pretty successful at doing that in the course of a few short weeks.
"Life isn't defined by the numbers on a timer, or how many seconds you have left. It's your experiences, your joy, your despair, your faith, your friendship. Your love. Life is something you fight for, something you seek out every day. If you keep shutting everything out, are you even really living anymore?"
Annabeth knew he was right about this, but she also knew she was right about him. And she had to push back, she couldn't let him stay with someone like her, who was guaranteed to break his heart, one way or another.
"I'm not trying to shut everything out, I'm just trying to protect you." She could hear her desperation bleed into her voice. He turned around to face her again, crossing his arms in front of himself.
"You don't get to decide that," Percy said. Annabeth could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed heavily. She was breathing just as heavily.
"Yes I do! That's what you do when you love someone! You protect them! You're too good for me. You can't—I don't want you to—" Annabeth was panting. Her brain could barely keep up with what her mouth was saying, but she knew what her overarching point was. "I want you to leave."
"Leave? But—" Percy looked around at his kitchen and living room in confusion.
"Leave me. Alone. I want you to leave me alone," Annabeth was saying. Everything inside her was protesting, she could feel bile burn her throat as she said the words. She hardened her expression, trying to look self-assured, like she actually agreed with what she was saying.
"And that's what you want?" Percy said.
"Yes. I want you to—I need you to leave me alone."
Percy was back to looking dejected instead of angry. He looked so devastated that Annabeth feared that she had done exactly what she had been trying to protect him from. She had failed.
"Okay, well, congratulations," Percy was saying. He got her folder and walked over to her. She tensed, but he just handed it to her. This time she took it. "Looks like you succeeded."
Messy black hair. Broad shoulders. Tan skin. Beautiful sea-green eyes. Annabeth committed him to memory, wishing that it was under better circumstances. She was sure this would be the last time she saw him and she would have loved to see one last lopsided smile.
Annabeth let herself out of the apartment as quickly as she could without running, closing the door behind her and locking herself out, just in case her feet had a last-minute change of heart, and tried to turn around and make her take it all back.
She knew she couldn't linger, so she coerced her feet into leading her away from the door. Walking away from Percy for the last time, she found that for once, she wasn't crying. It seemed her tears had finally run out.
