A/N: Hey guys back with a longer one this week, please read the authors note at the end! But anyway, without further ado, here ya go!
Dying, she finds, is a lot like breathing. You forget you've been doing it your entire life until it's too late and it becomes the most important thing in the world.
And right now, it's the only thought running through her mind as she struggles to breathe. One labored gasp of air after another, she's aware that she's hurt, but she can't find it in herself to really think about it.
Her thoughts are running a mile a minute, bringing her to this point. This point where she's dying.
She had jumped into this fight feeling a little like she had nothing left to lose. Maybe even nothing left to win. And maybe that nothing had fueled her.
Even now, she doesn't know if she's even losing something. Though she's certainly not winning.
There's a level of commotion around her, she can tell in her haze, but she's not really focused on it. She's trying to remember how she managed to breathe every day up until this point. How she had really been in the process of dying until this point.
A warm hand on her shoulder causes her to look up, she can still do that much at least.
Deep green eyes are looking at her with worry and concern, and they remind her of a scarf her mom used to have. Fascinating, the things that come to your mind when you're dying.
"Hang in there," the voice attached to the green eyes says. "You'll be okay."
She wonders if he's saying it to reassure her or if it's actually true. Maybe, she thinks, he's in denial.
"We're going to move you, okay? But hang in there," the voice says again.
She is hanging in there. Maybe his denial was correct. After all, not everything can be how we think it to be. It occurs to her then that she doesn't know for a fact that she's dying. Well, maybe more so than usual. But at least she hasn't died yet.
Hands wrap around her and she feels herself being moved as another dizzying bout of pain washes over her. But now she's laying down. And moving. Where or how is a bit beyond her at this point.
"What's your name?" the voice asks her. He's still beside her, green still shining through.
The sounds don't quite form, and she frowns in effort. She knows her name, she's just…too broken to be able to say it.
"Broken? That's an interesting name, specially since you're holding it together pretty well," he replies.
She doesn't remember saying the word out loud, but she does remember feeling pretty broken standing on the crosswalk probably no more than ten minutes ago.
Wanting to ask if he's lying about the holding it together part, she manages to mumble something.
"What was that? Lies? What's a lie? That Broken isn't your name?" he asks. It's getting harder to fight the way her eyelids are drooping closed, but she's determined to get her point across.
"Don't worry, I don't think your name is Broken," he tells her. "After all, you're not broken."
But maybe she is. He can't know that. She's starting to not know it. Or anything, really. Her eyes feel heavy and there's an annoying beeping sound, but not enough to stop her eyes from closing.
-.-
She didn't die. As it turns out, Green Eyes Denial Guy was right. The surroundings are unfamiliar, but the beeping, white sheets and general medical equipment are proof that she's in a hospital.
The doctor walks in not long after, pulling the clipboard out of thin air. Well, that's what it looks like anyway. Then again, clearly not everything is what she thinks. She's not dead, even though she thought she'd be.
"Good to see you awake! How do you feel?" the doctor asks with a smile.
She doesn't know the answer to that question. There's a dull ache on her side, muted by whatever they gave her, and she's thirsty as all hell.
The words come out raspy when she tries. "Fine."
The doctor looks like she doesn't quite believe her, but flashes another smile. "Let's get you some water first."
Soon a nurse bustles in, helps her with a cup of water as the doctor does her checks and finally Annabeth can tell her about the dull ache.
The doctor nods. "Yeah, that's where you got hurt, but you're very lucky, no major injuries."
Annabeth wonders if the broken feeling at the crosswalk counts as a major injury, but decides to let the doctor finish.
"There's someone waiting for you," she tells her, after checking some things off the clipboard. And with one last smile she walks out of the room.
She can't think of anyone who would be here, let alone anyone that would know, but the door opens a moment later and a man steps in.
It's not till he's much closer that she recognizes the green eyes.
"What did I tell you, not broken at all," he says with a smile. And then, as if the thought has just occurred to him, "I don't know if you remember but I was—"
She cuts him off. "Annabeth."
It took her this long to finally answer his first question, but she's managed it. Turns out, he wasn't lying.
A soft smile appears on his face. "Percy."
There's a beat of silence as Annabeth looks him over. His hair is a little wet and reminds her of the cat that her and Jason had found a few months ago and taken to a shelter. Fascinating, the things that come to you when you're not dying.
"Thank you," she says because, well, when it comes to it, she's pretty glad to not die.
"It was brave, what you did," he replies, looking down. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
She focuses on the okay part.
"I'm okay," she says. And the more she thinks about it, the more she means it.
"Good," He nods. "Because you really aren't broken."
She wonders how he's able to read her deepest thoughts and not dismiss them as the ramblings of someone on a stretcher.
She shrugs.
When he looks back up at her, the green is blazing. "Whatever you might think," he starts slowly, "your soul is unbreakable."
"And it takes soul to do what you did today," he finishes, voice low and deep, eyes incessant.
The sounds don't quite form, and she swallows in effort. She's just too…whole, to be able to say anything.
Instead she reaches out a hand to grab his, holding on to the warmth and life that the hands had helped keep.
As it turns out, she did have something to lose, and by some stroke of soul, she didn't. And when he smiles at the gesture, she feels like maybe she might even have something to win.
Dying might be a lot like breathing, a constant that you don't realize the importance of.
But so is living.
A/N: So what did you think? The context and actual events are completely up to you, it's honestly pretty vague in my mind since my focus was her thoughts and feelings. I think the whole thing is best summed up in the last two lines, because we are not just dying, we are living and it's almost like sometimes we forget that we are, and living if infinitely more important than dying.
Also want to give credit to the first line (one of the inspiration quotes for this drabble) I did not write it, it's from another fanfiction author on this site by the username Luna-Incendia14 (I'm sure many of you have read their fics as they're pretty popular).
IMPORTANT QUESTION: This fic is getting pretty big (this is the 117 chapter) and I was thinking of ending it at 120 chapters and continuing it under a new series, Semantics of Love 2. It's something I did when my How We Could Have Met series got long and basically, I would continue what I'm doing now just under a new series so this one doesn't end up being like three hundred chapters long.
So what are your thoughts on that? Again I'm not truly ending it, just continuing under a new title.
Please share your thoughts! I'd love to hear your feedback!
And as always, thanks for reading!
See ya! :)