A/N: I'd like to thank my betas: AlEmily360, SapphireTrafficker, tigerlilycorinne, AshenMoon42, Lesbian101, Shiuanc2, and LadyHW.

The room was small and overlooked an empty side street about five minutes from campus. The walls were a dull green, and there was a yellow stain from mold and water damage just over the head of Annabeth's bed. Annabeth stared at it, lying on the bare mattress and wondering if she made the right decision. There had just been so many wrong ones, that now it was hard to know.

Annabeth sat up. The room looked even smaller from this angle, although it would have to do for the two months Annabeth was renting it out. She stood up to inspect the rest of the space, leaving her room to run her hands along the kitchen counter and peer into the grimy bathroom. As she pulled out clorox and a sponge from under the sink, she knew she was just stalling for time—something she couldn't afford to waste. She had things to do here, and not a lot of time to do them.

It was late in the evening when Annabeth decided to turn her phone back from airplane mode and send her first text.

Annabeth- Hey Piper, can I come to you?

:::

Piper hadn't responded when Annabeth woke up in the morning. She blinked in the early sunlight streaming in through the gauzy curtains. It took a second for her to remember where she was; it all came back to her as she stared at the water stain above her. Her decision. The flight. Her mother's unhappy acceptance in the face of Annabeth's resolve. It was a well-known fact that some of the hardest choices were the best ones.

Annabeth wasn't sure what to do with her empty time; her plan hadn't come much further than finding a flight and renting a room. The rest was up to her friends—if they'd still let her call them that. She put some of her clothes away in the scuffed cabinet at the base of her bed. She watched the sun rise beyond the tree in front of her window. She made herself breakfast, and then ate it sitting on a fold-up chair in the kitchen while she scrolled through old emails.

She lingered her finger over the one her father had sent her during her graduation. The memory of her young face haunted her like a ghost. She clicked on it anyway, waiting for the image to load. She read the email again, pausing once more at her father's words. I think you would have made that little eight grade Annabeth proud.

The younger ghost of herself whispered in her ear, "Have you made me proud?"

Out loud, Annabeth said, "I will."

:::

Piper: Meet me the park Saturday noon

:::

Piper wasn't saying anything. She hadn't said anything since the obligatory greeting when they had met up and agreed to sit at a nearby bench. It was Annabeth's time to speak, and while she understood that, she was having trouble actually saying anything.

"How are you?" she started.

Piper shrugged. "I'm okay."

Annabeth nodded. "Is Jason still—?"

"He left right after term ended."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Annabeth chewed on the inside of her lip nervously. She couldn't remember a time it had ever been so difficult to talk to Piper.

"It's okay. I've actually…" Piper said, before trailing off. She shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does," Annabeth said, heart sinking.

Piper was still shaking her head, but she said, "No, I mean, I know it does, but—" She let out a deep exhale. "—that's not what we're here to talk about, is it?"

Annabeth shook her head. "It's not." She leaned over, grabbing a yellow dandelion by her feet. It's head was already starting to curl, starting to turn into a cloud of seeds for the wind to blow. "I'm just not sure how to start."

"Start at the beginning then."

Annabeth smiled at the unintentional complexity of that request. "Once upon a time…" she said.

Piper snorted. When Annabeth looked up at her, she was rolling her eyes. She waved her hand at Annabeth. "Keep going."

"...There was a girl who didn't want to admit she was worried. That she'd always been worried." Annabeth paused. Piper's eyebrows rose and met in a crinkle of sympathy. Annabeth looked away from her face and to the trees on the other side of the park, branches full of thick, green leaves. "And that it had kind of fucked her up. And then she did things she regretted."

"Like what?" Piper asked, her voice softer than before.

"Like speak about herself in third person," Annabeth said. "And push away the people I love." She pushed her hair back over her forehead, and then rested her face in her hands. Muffled, she said, "I've made so many mistakes."

Annabeth felt a hand on her back slowly begin to rub circles into her shoulder blade. "That's okay," came Piper's soft voice, gentle in a way that Piper rarely was, but kind in the way she always had been. "No one's asking you to be perfect. We're not expecting you to get it right all the time."

"I am," Annabeth said, wiping her hands over her face even though she hadn't cried any tears.

"That seems like a lot of pressure," Piper said. "Why would you do that to yourself?"

Annabeth shrugged, her mind searching for an answer. She remembered Amy and her father's cold looks, the doors slammed in her face at her mother's apartment, the phrase, "You're awfully young," repeated from too many mouths. "I guess… I wanted to make loving me worth it."

Piper gripped her hands. "Annabeth, it is worth it. Even when you're wrong, because in here—" She let go of Annabeth's hand and tapped her chest. "—you know how to make it right again."

Annabeth reflected once more, trailing over more recent and less well-worn memories. She thought of Amy's face when she agreed to start again. She thought of her father, raising his glass in a toast to family, and second chances. She thought of her mother's saying 'it was easy' to love her. And at last, she thought about Percy, tilting his head up to the sky, lying on a beach, a car, a bed, and showing her all of the possibilities she had never thought to see before.

"I'm sorry," she said, finally. "I love you, and I'm sorry."

Piper smiled, her dark eyes shining. "I love you, and I'm sorry too."

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Annabeth chuckled wetly.

Piper brushed her hair over her shoulder and leaned back. "We all make mistakes. I haven't really been… communicating well recently. I thought I was helping you, but…" She paused, her eyes twinkling. "I think it probably would have helped more to remind you that the world doesn't revolve around you sometimes."

Annabeth laughed and slapped her shoulder. "Hey!" Piper just shrugged with a mirthful grin. Annabeth shook her head. "You're probably right. I think maybe you didn't really tell me stuff because I didn't give you the chance. Not really."

"Maybe," Piper said, head tilted in thought, "but you won't do that anymore, will you?"

"I won't have time."

Piper slung her arm around Annabeth's shoulder, pulling her close. "Bullshit," she said, letting out a deep sigh. "There's plenty of time."

:::

"I'm glad I let you pick the place," Annabeth said, bending down to study a chunk of lapis lazuli. It sparkled from behind its glass case, a deep blue shot through with streaks of white and gold.

"Have you ever been here before?" Hazel asked. She walked on the opposite side of the glass, her appearance distorted in the case.

"I've been to the Natural History Museum, but I usually skip this section," Annabeth replied, moving onto a case of glistening rainbow stones. In the light, the colors shifted like an oil slick.

"Everyone goes straight to the dinosaurs." Hazel sighed.

Annabeth hummed sympathetically, although she was just as guilty as everyone else. "This one's pretty." She pointed to the rainbow stone.

Hazel peered down at it. "Ammolite. It originally comes from shell fossils." She traced the outline of a spiral shell onto the glass. "I'm glad we came here too. My manager doesn't really like it when y'all hang out at my work."

Annabeth frowned. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

Hazel shrugged. "It's nice to go to other places too."

"Mhmm."

"And it's nice to see you again," Hazel said. Her voice was unmistakably gentler from how it had been a second ago.

"Thanks," Annabeth said. "You too."

When she didn't continue, Hazel said, "I heard about what happened."

Annabeth nodded, moving onto the next case. Hazel followed her, taking a second to look at the spiky vermillion crocoite in front of them before looking back to Annabeth.

"Y'know. With Percy."

Annabeth sighed.

"Are you… feeling better now?" Hazel asked.

"I...yeah," she said, and she realized she meant it. "I actually am."

Hazel smiled, soft and sweet. "I'm glad. He's…" She trailed off, and suddenly Annabeth needed to know how he was more than she had ever needed anything.

"How is he?"

Hazel shook her head, still smiling, but now it looked tired and strained. "I don't know, he's okay—"

"Okay?"

"I mean, not—" Hazel paused and frowned. "I don't really think I should be talking to you about this."

Annabeth's heart sank. "Please? I just want to know that he's okay." And does he miss me? Does he think about me? Does he still love me?

"He's… okay. I mean, you broke his heart, but—" Hazel shook her head. "That's all I can tell you. He's okay."

"Hazel," Annabeth pleaded.

Hazel was still shaking her head. "No, that's it."

"I'm only asking because I…" Annabeth trailed off.

Hazel sighed and put a sympathetic hand on Annabeth's shoulder. "I know."

Annabeth bit her lip, suddenly overcome. "I'm not sure he even knows."

"He knows," Hazel reassured. "You could always… talk to him."

Now it was Annabeth's turn to shake her head. "I can't. If I do—" She lifted her arm, flashing her covered timer at Hazel. "—I'm not sure what will happen. At least this way, I can be certain."

Hazel smiled slightly. "Nothing's really certain," she said cryptically.

"What do you mean?"

Hazel tapped her own timer and Annabeth was reminded of the long line of zeros it showed. "I mean, look at me. Timers perpetuate a myth of control, but nothing's really set in stone. Even death."

"I think Piper would say something about 'fate' here."

Hazel snorted. "Probably. But even destiny is changeable."

"You think?" Annabeth asked.

"I know."

They moved between cases of gems to a wall of crystallized fossils. Again, Hazel traced the outlines of them onto the glass window: spirals of shells and the arches of paleozoic rib cages.

"You asked me once, if I had the chance, would I have done things differently," Hazel said.

Annabeth thought back. "You said it wasn't good to dwell."

Hazel smiled ruefully. "Maybe," she said, "but I have my chance now."

"And?"

"And I think..." Hazel stepped back from the glass and turned to Annabeth. "that maybe life isn't something you should just let happen to you."

Annabeth thought about that for a moment. It was so different from what Hazel had said before, about how she had just done the expected thing, had just kept going without thinking about what she really wanted.

She thought she wanted a diploma, but when the time came, it was just a scrap of paper in her hand. It didn't even mean anything. Annabeth thought she had accepted her short life long ago, but she hadn't really. Instead of seeking out every little bit of joy she could from her numbered days, she had let herself be drawn into an arbitrary plan of what-ifs. She had slaved away for a diploma she would never have the chance to truly earn, for a job she would never have the chance to get, and let herself get trapped in a relationship she was never really happy in.

If I got a second chance, she thought, considering Hazel's situation, what would I do differently?

"How are the horse riding lessons going?" she asked, throwing Hazel a small smile.

Hazel laughed and returned the smile. "They're going well, thanks."

:::

Annabeth spent barely any time between the green walls of her sublet. Her time was instead spent on the floral couch in Piper's flat, or walking through the empty campus with Hazel, or visiting Leo in his busy apartment. June seemed to pass in no time at all, but the month was full and it stretched in her memory to make up for the arduous months before.

Annabeth's time was also spent wishing Percy was there, but those thoughts were quickly tamped down so that she could focus on what she did have.

Experiences. Friendship. Love, of all different kinds.

Sometimes she found her fingers idly picking at the frayed tape over her timer, but she never looked down at it. She was determined to forget the numbers attached to the passing days, to appreciate the summer sunshine and the time she spent with her friends.

She knew her death was coming, and a part of it scared her, but she had accepted that fear and decided to move on. It had been a long time since she had been truly living anyway, so maybe this was her second chance. Even if it was only for a month, she could find out what she had been missing.

She thought of Percy and all of his possibilities, all the stars he could imagine, beyond what he could count. She was starting to understand exactly what he meant.

:::

Annabeth could feel her skin turning pink under the hot July sun. The air was still and heavy, settling into her lungs with a thick humidity that was nearly suffocating. She fanned herself with her hat, although the breeze was too small to make much of a difference.

She longed for the cool wind off the sea or the chill of mountain air to wash away the sticky feeling that had lingered through the last few days.

She stood back up, brushing off her denim shorts and taking a swig from her water bottle. She didn't see anyone on either side of the trail, but that didn't mean she should sit in the dirt path for long. The hiking trails through the city parks were busy, even on days like this, where being outside was ill-advised.

Annabeth couldn't believe she had never bothered to explore the parks more. They were beautiful, with their tall leafy trees and babbling streams weaving between old stone bridges and well worn footpaths. Small wildflowers bloomed by her feet as Annabeth made her way through the foliage, and small creatures scuttled behind logs and rocks in the steep ravine below her.

She took another drink from her water, panting slightly. Stumbling over a small crop of rocks, she gripped a low hanging tree branch to right herself. The leaves on the tree were turned over, the ridges of their stems facing up in Annabeth's grasp. She had read once that leaves turned upside down like that when a thunderstorm was on the horizon. She hoped that she'd still be here when it arrived. Maybe she could find a way to go to the ocean, where she could stand on the beach and watch the storm from there.

Annabeth let go of the branch and it whipped away from her. She continued on the path, tilting her head up to watch the sky overhead. It was clear blue, making the threat of rain and lightning seem far away.

Her foot caught on something—a root—and she stumbled again, but this time there was nothing to grab. She tilted towards the ravine, and the creek rocks below.

This is it, she thought, but instead of fear and reluctance, all she could feel was surprise. And pain. Her ankle was still twisted, caught in a tree root in the middle of the path. She was half in the ravine, half out, sprawled in the low brambles on the side of the path. She looked around for other people, suddenly embarrassed at her own dramatics.

She pushed herself off the ground, brushing dirt from her legs and pulling leaves from her hair. Her knee was bleeding from where she had skinned it, and her ankle was starting to swell with pain. Annabeth sighed—it seemed as though her hike would have to be cut short.

Her heart was still racing from her fall as she turned around; she touched the place where her jaw met her neck, feeling the pulse point beat beneath her fingertips. She felt too aware of the day suddenly, too aware of the minutes that passed as she wound her way through the park and back to the main road. Part of her was desperate to check her timer, or to check the date on her phone. Could it be her birthday?

On birthdays, people always asked you if you felt older. She didn't feel twenty-one—she didn't feel any different than she had the day before. But birthdays were just a day, like any other. She supposed this one would be too.

She walked along the side of the park road, empty save for a few bikers who rang their bells as they passed her. Anxiety thrummed under her skin, burying itself into her mind.

She wondered if this was how Silena had felt, in the days leading up to her own death. Or maybe how Hazel had felt, before her accident. She had never asked, and they had never told her. Now, she desperately wished she knew how she was supposed to feel.

Piper always said it was natural to be worried, but was that what Annabeth was? She had accepted it, or at least had told herself she had, a long time ago. She had lived with this threat, this promise, for twenty-one years. She had made all of her decisions, formed all of her plans, knowing eventually where they would lead, and most importantly, when. She had done the denial and bargaining and anger and grief, but here she was again—stuck at the beginning, while at the very end.

She wanted to see the thunderstorm that the heavy air and upside-down leaves foreshadowed. She wanted to stand on the beach again, or under the infinite stars in the sky. She wanted to go to the Acropolis, and the Pantheon, and to the Empire State Building. She wanted to listen to Piper talk about her new love, whoever it would be. She wanted to see Leo get better, and to get to know him better. She wanted to go to San Francisco, and see Bobby and Matthew graduate high school, and maybe even college. She wanted to graduate college, for real.

And most of all, at least right now, she wanted to see Percy. One last time.

She didn't know if he would forgive her, for what she had done, or for what she was about to do, but she needed to see him. Maybe he would save her, maybe he wouldn't—whatever the consequences, she was willing to deal with them.

The empty park road met with the busy main road. She was careful to wait for the light, to look both ways before crossing the street. Her ankle still smarted and the blood on her knee was drying into cracking scabs, but she pushed through the discomfort. Up Grover Street and then right at Ward, turn down Bruner and cut through the alleyway to Dodds Ave. Making her way back to Percy was as easy as going home.

She scuffed her shoe against the raised yellow plastic at the crosswalk, peeling off the caked-on mud. Her fingers tapped impatiently against her leg, waiting for the light to change. Her heart was still beating against her chest, but it was a different type of thrum—anticipation.

Her eyes found the other side of the road, the cluster of people passing in front of shops and waiting at the sidewalk. A head of unruly black hair caught her attention. She blinked. The hair led to a point at the brown nape of a tall man's neck, down to broad shoulders and a loose blue shirt. Maybe it was just the heat getting to her, but that looked like—

"Percy…" Annabeth said, but it came out quietly, like a gasp. The man didn't turn. She took a halting step forward, the soles of her shoes scraping the ground.

"Percy." This time it was louder, but still not loud enough. Percy didn't turn, he just kept walking, kept getting farther and farther away from Annabeth.

"Percy!" Annabeth called, stepping after him. His head bobbed between people, still moving away. She took another step forward. "Percy!"

In her periphery, she saw the car. It was distorted—there was something both slow and fast in the way it hit her. She couldn't remember the impact, but she could remember the lead-up to it, the blank headlights and the sun glaring off the windshield. It was blinding in a way that felt almost familiar.

Percy's car had almost hit her, last semester.

He had been concerned about her, and he offered her a ride home. Instead, they had gone to the mountains and that was when she realized that she was in love with him, under a sky of infinite stars and infinite possibilities.

She was in love with Percy Jackson, and she had never got to tell him. Not properly, at least. Not in any way that mattered.

Above her, the sky was blue, so blue, and it drowned out the constellations she knew were behind it. Her head hurt and she wanted to cover her ears with her hands, to drown out the sound of tires screeching against hot pavement, but she couldn't feel her arms. Her body felt heavy against the ground—she felt like she might just sink through it.

Percy handed her an atlas and asked her where to go. She traced the roads on the maps, arteries and veins through valleys and mountains.

She wanted more than this. She had so much she wanted to do, so many things she wanted to be. There were people who loved her, who didn't want her to go. There were people she loved that she didn't want to leave. There was still so much love inside of her—where would it go when she was gone?

She still held that potential, welled up inside of her, despite the numbers ticking down on her timer. She wasn't ready to go, to give up, just because all her life she had been told she had to.

I'm not ready, she thought, but it didn't matter. She exhaled slowly, and her vision went black.