A/N: Kinda short, ik. I wrote half of this in the past 45 min, so. It's kind of a filler chapter, so I'm sorry, plus no Drew POV, even though I was really hoping to get to that this chapter, but it's been a really long week, if you know what I mean. :/

Tbh I'm ready to just crawl in bed and read bad fanfics, so if y'all don't mind, I'm just gonna post this short thing that'll hopefully tide you guys over for some time, and then curl up in a ball and die lol. :P (You can literally see how quality declines as I reach the end of this chapter :P)

Disclaimer: All rights remain.

Annabeth

Percy pilotted a massive cargo jet, built to carry heavy transports or machinery. Now the cargo bay held over three hundred escaped prisoners, many injured, all shell-shocked. Most were regular people, but there were also royals among them, keeping to themselves, biding their time. For today at least, they all looked the same, cloaked in rags, exhaustion, and hunger.

Annabeth didn't want to go down to them, so she stuck to the upper level of the jet. At least it was quiet in this section, separated from the bay by a narrow stairwell, and from the cockpit by a closed door.

She couldn't make herself move past the two bodies at her feet. One lay beneath a white sheet, stained only by the blossom of red blood over his pierced heart. Thalia knelt over him, frozen, a hand under the sheet to clutch Jason's cold, dead fingers. The other corpse Annabeth refused to cover. Medusa looked ugly in death, and her mouth was pulled into a sneer even she couldn't muster while alive.

"You should go lie down."

The body unsettled Rachel, that much was clear. Annabeth didn't know why. They should've been dancing on her bones. "Let Kayla check you out."

"Tell Percy to change course."

She blinked at the ex-Princess, perplexed. "Change course? What are you talking about? We're going back to the base, back home—"

Home. Annabeth scoffed at such a childish word. "We're going to hover over Epresh for a bit. Tell him, please."

"Annabeth."

"Please."

She didn't move. "Have you gone crazy? Do you remember what happened back there, what Malcolm will have to do to you if you return?"

Crazy. Annabeth wished. She wished her mind would snap from the torture her life had become. That would be such a relief, to simply go mad. "He can certainly try. But we won't be there long, and when he sees what I bring him, I doubt he'll threaten us this time." And he's my brother; I miss him; he can take this body, this burden from me; he can help, even if only barely. He can examine the body, use it as a weapon against House Calbourne and Luke better than we ever could.

"The body?" Rachel breathed, visibly shaking. It's not the corpse scaring her, Annabeth realized. It's me. "You're going to show him the body?"

"I'm going to give it to him." Again, firmer. "Tell Percy to change course. He will understand."

The jab stung Rachel, but Annabeth didn't care. The redhead hardened, drawing back to do as she had told her. The cockpit door shut behind her, but Annabeth barely noticed. She was preoccupied with more important things than petty insults. How could Jason be dead? And he was not the only one. No, there were certainly others left to make the prison their tomb. They would only know when they landed, and could see who else escaped on the plane.

"Did your seer tell you about this?"

The first words Thalia had spoken since they left Blue Lake. She hadn't wept yet, not like Piper who had excused herself to another part of the plane a while ago, but her voice sounded hoarse, as if she'd spent the last few days screaming. Her eyes were horrible, ringed with red, the irises a vivid blue.

"That fool, Tiresias, who told us to do this?" she continued, turning to face Annabeth. "Did he tell you Jason would die? Did he? I suppose that was an easy price for little Annie to pay, so long as it meant more soldiers for you to control. More soldiers in a war you have no idea how to fight. One measly best friend of yours for more followers to kiss your feet. Not a bad trade, was it? Especially with the Queen thrown in. You may have killed her earlier, but she was all part of this. Who cares about a dead man no one knows, when you could have her corpse?"

Annabeth's slap sent her back a step, more in surprise than pain. Thalia caught the sheet as she fell, pulling it sideways, revealing Jason's pale face. At least his eyes were closed. He could've been only sleeping. Annabeth moved to tug the sheet back into place—she couldn't look at him long—but Thalia hit her with her shoulder, using her considerable strength to drive her into the wall.

The cockpit door banged open, and the two people rushed out, drawn by the noise. In an instant, Percy took Thalia down, tapping the back of her knee so she stumbled. Rachel was less fancy, simply wrapping both his arms around Annabeth, hoisting her clean off the ground.

"He was my brother in all but blood!" Annabeth yelled at her. "He was my best friend!"

Thalia screamed her response. "He was far more than that!"

Her words triggered a memory.

When she doubts. Tiresias told Annabeth to tell Thalia something. When she doubts. And Thalia certainly doubted now.

"Tiresias did tell me something," the blonde said, trying to push off Rachel. "Something for you to hear."

Thalia lunged, reaching, and Percy pushed her back down again. He got an elbow to the face for the trouble, but he didn't relinquish his firm hold on her shoulders. She wasn't going anywhere, yet she continued to struggle. Thalia, you never know when to quit. I used to admire you for it. Now I only pity you.

"He told me the answer to your question."

It stopped her short, her breath coming in tiny, frightened puffs. Thalia stared, wide-eyed. Annabeth could almost hear her heart beating.

"He said yes."

Annabeth didn't know what that meant, but it leveled her. Thalia slumped, falling on her hands, and bowed her head. The blonde could see the tears anyways. She wasn't going to fight anymore.

Percy knew it too, and backed away from her shaking form. He almost tripped on Medusa's deformed arm, and shied away from it, flinching. "Give her space," he murmured, and seized Annabeth by the arm in a bruising grip. He all but dragged the ex-Princess away, despite her protests.

Annabeth didn't want to leave her. Not Thalia, but Medusa. Despite her wounds, her burns, and her glassy eyes, she didn't trust her corpse to stay dead. A foolish worry, but she felt it all the same.

"What's the matter with you?" he snarled, slamming the cockpit door behind them, shutting out Thalia's low sobs and Rachel's scowl.

"You know what Jason was to her—"

"You know what he was to me too," Annabeth replied. Being civil wasn't at the top of her list, but she tried. Her voice wavered anyway. Her closest friend. She lost him before, when she left Epresh, and now again. This time he wasn't coming back. There was no coming back. "You don't see me screaming at people."

"You're right. You just kill them."

Breath hissed between her teeth. Is that what this was about? She almost laughed at him. "At least one of us can."

Annabeth expected a screaming match at the very least. What she got was worse. Percy took a step back, bumping against the instrument panel, trying to put as much distance as he could between them. Something broke behind his eyes, betraying the wounds he hid beneath his cool skin.

"What happened to you, Annabeth?" he whispered.

What hasn't happened to me? A single day without worry, that's what. All to prepare me for this, for the fate I bought myself with my foolishness and the many mistakes I've chosen to make, Percy included. "My family just died, Percy."

But he shook his head, never looking away from her. His gaze burned. "You killed so many, some while they begged, some during this battle, some in Thasite, some even before that. Jason wasn't dead then. Don't blame this on him."

"They were royal—"

"I am royal. And so are you."

"I am an Amazon, first and foremost. Don't act like you haven't killed hundreds of us." She could still remember the way Reyna had been tortured by his hand.

"Not for me, not the way you kill. I was a soldier following orders, obeying my father, obeying my King. And they were just as innocent as I was when my father was alive."

Tears pricked at her eyes, begging to be spilled. Faces swam before her, murdered soldiers and officers, too many to count. "Why are you saying this to me?" she whispered. "I did what I had to, to stay alive, to save people—to save you, you stupid, stubborn Prince of nothing. You of all people should know the burden I carry. How dare you try to make me feel guiltier than I already do?"

"She wanted to turn you into a monster." He nodded toward the door, and the twisted body behind it. "I'm just trying to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Medusa is dead." The words tasted sweet as wine. She was gone, and she couldn't hurt her. "She can't control anyone anymore."

"But still, you feel no remorse for the dead. You do whatever you can to forget them. You abandoned your family without a word, and the Pevanshires after you killed their daughter. You can't control yourself. Half the time you run away from leadership, and the other half you act like some untouchable martyr, crowned in guilt, the only person who's really giving herself to the cause. Look around you, Annabeth Chase. Jason's not the only one who died at Blue Lake. You are not the only one to make sacrifices. Reyna left her life behind, Rachel betrayed her father. You forced Calypso to talk, even when she was suffering. And sure, you figured it out, white torture, but at what cost? Torturing those who have already paid enough? And now you want to abandon people back at the base. For what? To step on the Rayas' necks? To take a throne? To show Malcolm and your mother that you're more than they could have ever imagined? To kill anyone who looks at you the wrong way?"

Annabeth felt like a child being scolded, unable to speak, to argue, to do anything but keep from crying.

"And you still hold on to Luke, a person who doesn't exist."

He might as well have put a hand around her throat and squeezed. "You looked through my things?"

"I'm not blind. I watched you take the notes off the bodies. I thought you'd rip them up. But when you didn't—I suppose I wanted to see what you were going to do with them. Burn them, throw them away, send them dipped back in royal blood—but not keep them. Not read them while I slept next to you."

"You said you missed him too. You said so," she whispered. Annabeth had to refrain from stamping her foot like a frustrated child.

"He's my brother. I miss him in a very different way."

Something sharp scraped her wrist, and Annabeth realized she was scratching herself in misery, creating a physical pain to mask the agony inside. Percy watched, conflicted.

"Every single thing I did, you stood behind me," she said. "If I'm turning into a monster, then so are you."

He dropped his gaze. "Love blinds."

"If this is your idea of love—"

"I don't know if you love anyone at all," he snapped, "if you see anything out there but tools and weapons. People to manipulate and control, to sacrifice."

There was no possible defense to such an accusation. How could she prove him wrong? How could she make him see what she had done, what she was trying to do, what she had become to keep everyone she cared about safe! How badly she'd failed. How terrible she felt. How the scars and memories ached. How deeply he'd wounded her with such words. Annabeth could not prove her love for him, or Piper, or her family, Jason included. She could not put such feelings into words, nor should she have had to.

So she didn't.

"After the bombing, Reyna and the Amazons used a royal broadcast to claim responsibility." She spoke slowly, methodical and calm in her explanation. It was the only thing keeping her sane. "I've already started in Thasite, but I'm going to continue to do the same now, with the Queen's body. I'm going to show every single person in every single damn kingdom the woman Piper killed, and the people she kept locked up, both citizens and royals. I am finished letting Luke control this game by spouting his lies to his kingdom. What we've done isn't enough to bring him down. We need to let the country do it for us."

Percy's mouth gaped open. "Civil war?"

"House against house, royal against royal. Only Amazons and Canadians will stand united. And we will win because of it. Thasite with fall, Epresh, too, Sumisu, Kreoca, Jirot, and Baca, and we will ascend for gold and glory." A simple, costly, lethal plan on both sides. But it was a step that had to take. They forced them down this road a long time ago. She was only doing what must be done.

"We will return to the base after I stop in Epresh for barely two hours. But I need Malcolm, and I need his resources to get this in motion. Do you understand that?"

He barely nodded.

"And after, well, I will go North, to Jirot, to Nico and the royals and family I've so willingly abandoned. We have business to discuss. You can do as you like, Your Highness."

"Annabeth." He grazed her arm and she flinched away, almost hitting the wall.

"Don't touch me anymore."

The words sounded like a slamming door. She supposed they were.

…

Epresh was quiet and disgustingly bright. No clouds, no wind, just summer sunlight. Jason shouldn't have died on such a beautiful day, but he did.

Too many did.

Annabeth was the first to step down from the cargo plane, with two covered stretchers close behind. Piper and Thalia hover by one, each of them resting a hand on Jason—they would bury him here in his hometown. But the other stretcher was what Annabeth cared about now. The men holding her up seemed afraid of her body, just like she was. The last few hours of quiet reflection, staring at Medusa's cold corpse, had been a strange comfort. She was not going to wake up. Just like Percy would never speak to her again, not after everything they said to each other. She didn't know where he was in the line, or if he was even coming down at all. Most weren't, staying in the plane until she finished her business with her brother. Annabeth told herself not to worry. Thinking about him was a waste.

Quietly, she cursed herself. Her family would be back here, and without a father and husband.

You don't care about your family. Maybe Percy was right because she certainly forgot them more than any sane person should've.

She went alone, and this time, even Piper didn't object, drowned in her own grief. Perhaps it was time she paid her mother a visit as well. She only had until Jason's funeral was over—which she couldn't bear to watch—to convince her brother to take Medusa's body off her hands and talk her mother into dropping all these wars and living the educational life she'd always dreamt of. Steeling herself for trouble, she knocked on the tall gate doors of the Ashington Castle, her own guards at the sides of the doors spotting her in thinly concealed horror.

Annabeth

"I thought I told you not to come back here." Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You're lucky those guards didn't shoot you on sight.

She was seated at the long dining table across from her mother, and a few seats down from Malcolm. They were dressed in the colors of mourning.

Annabeth waved away his warning. "They wouldn't have had the guts to."

"And what if we'd ordered them to kill on sight?" Malcolm was clearly exasperated.

"We both know you paid them off because you knew I'd be back." She shrugged, and Malcolm scowled.

"Still. That was highly irresponsible and ridiculously reckless," he chastised.

"Don't lecture me." Annabeth turned to face their mother instead. "Don't worry, I'll be gone soon."

Athena was pale and quiet, but Annabeth couldn't find it within herself to have sympathy for her mother. She'd seen the woman methodically execute her enemies. If anything, Annabeth had better sense to fear the Queen. Athena didn't say anything in response.

"What? No words of wisdom for me? Nothing to chide? No snarky commentary? Did Frederick really take that much from you?" Annabeth snipped at her mother. She knew she was being mean. She felt mean, but why should she have been nice when the world had been so mean to her? "Stupid girl, making promises to monsters," she mimicked, practically able to guess her mother's words before she could even open her mouth.

Now Malcolm glared at her, his mouth turned down sharp. "You come into our home and you insult the very ground we stand on," he muttered, frowning. "Her husband just died, Annabeth. Shut your mouth."

"He died nearly a week ago. And he wasn't the only one to die."

"They were married for many decades."

"I don't care. He was an asshole to me, and he was an asshole to Mother, too. But you all excuse it because he was at the top of our chain, because we couldn't have it any other way, and now that he's gone, you know what I say? I say good riddance." Annabeth's chest heaved, and it wasn't until that moment that she realized she was standing now, towering over the table, her anger rocketing.

Athena choked.

"Annabeth." Malcolm was horrified, his mouth hanging open.

"What is wrong with both of you? You don't need to dance on his grave, but you can at least recognize that your lives are a little better now."

She threw her hands up in exasperation at Athena's blank, pained expression.

"Her father gave us this kingdom." Annabeth pointed to Athena. "It's from her side of the family, Malcolm, that we get this royal lineage. It was only ever because of her! And she might not like me, and that's okay, but you both need to quit your moping and realize that this—this misogyny has robbed our family of our roots, just as it has done to so many others! Father married into this family, and yet he had more power, yet he acted like he owned the place when Mother was always ten times smarter." Annabeth slammed her palms against the glossy, silver table.

"Annabeth, slow down…" her brother trailed off.

"I don't give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks! Listen to me, both of you," she demanded. "You don't fucking need him." She twisted her fingers around the front collar of Malcolm's shirt. "You're both sitting around here, dressed in the disgusting colors of the dead when he didn't even care about us! He cared about you, and you alone Malcolm. His wife was only another thing for him to have power over! His council was another group of old men for him to push around!"

"He loved you," Malcolm's voice cracked. "He loved you so much."

"If he did, which he didn't, he had a funny way of showing it." Annabeth paced, then. "Mother. Mom."

Athena's head snapped up.

"You wanted to travel the world. You wanted to read everything. You wanted to learn all you can before you died. Father's dead, Mom. He's gone." It felt weird to refer to the Queen by something as informal as 'Mom.' "You're free now. You are not beholden to this cold castle and this life that means nothing to you."

"Annabeth—"

"—you're not King yet!" she snapped, turning on him. Her eyes blazed, livid. Malcolm flinched back.

"Get out of here, Mother. What are you doing here? Get away from these shitty wars that you could've single-handedly ended months back if Frederick had let you do anything. Get away from this land you never wanted. Get away from this life you never deserved!"

"Annabeth, stop—"

"Shut the fuck up, Malcolm!" she screamed, overtaken by this overwhelming need to chuck something at him. Maybe then he would shut his mouth.

"I will not! I will not let you do this, planting ideas in her head when she's heartbroken. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Everything! EVERYTHING IS WRONG WITH ME! Okay?!" Annabeth raised her arms wildly. "I'm a fucked-up bitch, and I got played as many times as I played others, and I'm sorry you're embarrassed, and I'm sorry I let down our Mother and our family name, but I have yet to finish, so sit your ass down and shut your mouth before I make you."

Malcolm fell down into his seat, his mouth parted in a small 'o.'

"Annabeth, you didn't let me down." It was the first thing Athena had said all hour. The Queen cleared her throat. "Quite the opposite, actually. You took out enemies in this war, and though they were your own, some were ours, too. You've done well for yourself."

It was as close as Athena would ever get to saying she was proud of her daughter and Annabeth found comfort in it. "So you'll leave?" she whispered, quieting. She, too, sat down. "You'll leave this hell behind and go find your infinity?"

Athena tilted her head to one side, and Annabeth was shocked that her mother hadn't shot down the idea immediately, and was actually considering it. "Malcolm will need help. He'll be King."

"Will he?" Annabeth posed the question, turning to her brother now. "You're not bound to this life, either. You can come with me, Malcolm. Leave this Kingdom to burn or build on its own. Allow the Canadians to keep this property since we're so close to the border anyways and lead your own life."

"I—I can't do that," he denied, shaking his head at her, pity in his eyes.

"Yes, you can. You can join the Amazons and Canadians, or you look over this property as a representative of the democratic council in Canada. You can be so much more than this. Or at least stop fighting us. Fight the twisted Calbournes and Rayas, and convince the Pevanshires to fall back against Amazons with you. We won't hurt you if you surrender."

"Surrender? You guys will kick us out of royalty. The Pevanshires won't stand for that, I'm sure."

"I wouldn't be too sure. Hades has always been better than Tristan, Frederick, and Poseidon. Nico's a tougher case to crack."

Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because you all killed his sister. I won't do it, Annabeth. Unless…" now he hesitated, and Annabeth felt herself holding her breath. This 'unless' was new. Malcolm would've never doubted this decision, not before. "Unless Nico agrees. If he's in, so am I." His eyes flitted to the ground. "I'll become a democratic representative of Epresh instead, and if Nico agrees, then I'm okay with that. I was never really suited to sit under lights my entire day, anyways. Anyone's eyes should've been on you."

Annabeth trembled. "Are you true?" Are you lying?

"I am."

"Then I'm going to talk to Nico first thing tomorrow morning. You could save so many, Malcolm. I'm—I'm proud of you." She used her index finger to tip his face up to her. She looked into his grey eyes, a mirror of her own soul, one that hid all her bad, and kept all that was good.

He just sighed. "Good luck. He was coronated four days ago."

"Excuse me?" Annabeth blanched. This was news to her.

"It was a small coronation to honor the two Kings who died," Malcolm informed her.

"Oh."

"He's scheduled to be engaged tomorrow, so you'll have to hurry."

Annabeth's eyebrows furrowed. "Engaged? To whom?"

"Princess Kane from England."

"England? Engaged? He's being betrothed a good two years before most of us!" she protested.

"Not our choice." Malcolm shrugged. "Or Hades'. All you've got to do is get him on your side, and I am too," he reminded her. Annabeth swallowed hard; she had her work cut out for her, indeed. There was no way she would make it before he was officially engaged, so she could only hope he wasn't attached to this mysterious Kane, and that she could successfully change his mind.

"Mother?" She faced Athena now, who looked at Malcolm. Malcolm offered a reassuring smile.

Slowly the Queen nodded, sitting straighter in her chair.

A slow smile spread across Annabeth's face. Change was coming, and it was gold. "Great. Medusa's body is in the foyer; I was too lazy to drag it all the way here. She's got one hell of an expression, perfect for broadcasting. I'll send a letter soon with updates. Pleasure doing business with you."

Malcolm's eyes widened in surprise and in disgust. "That's—she's—I don't want a dead body—Annabeth!"

But she had already walked away, disappearing as fast as she had come.

Nico

Nico let out a sigh of submission as Will peppered butterfly kisses down his jaw. Each one felt like a drop of sunlight spreading across his face and cracking into the dark, plastic casing around his heart.

"Who knew all it took to calm down the Ghost King was a kiss?" Will joked, and Nico rolled his eyes. "My bad: I shouldn't forget who I'm talking to. Wouldn't want Your Highness to strike me down." Ever since his coronation, Will had been more of a pain in the ass than usual.

"You're ridiculous."

Will kissed him soundly, shutting up Nico's protests. It felt like he was in an affair, considering that his soon-to-be bride would be arriving just the next day, but no because Nico didn't want to marry her anyways and he wanted to just flop around with Will and listen to his irritating blond talk about his dumb plants and watch as that stupid smile spread across his face. Screw that stupid Princess. He didn't even want to meet her.

Infuriated by the reminder, Nico jerked Will down by the front of his shirt and kissed him roughly so that his lips would be engraved in his, so that he would be all he could taste for years to come. The door rattled on his right. Breathlessly, he pulled away from Will, whose cheeks were flushed a dark pink. The handle made some sounds, but he wasn't worried. He'd locked it earlier.

"One moment," Nico called out, gazing at Will. He pressed his mouth against the other boy once more, and then before he could unlock the door or anything, the door burst open.

Nico seized up in terror, clutching his sheets out of a reflex. Will shot up in the bed, his hair sticking every which way, his blue eyes wide.

In the doorway stood a blonde he recognized in less than a second. And she was holding a bobby pin. His heart pounded even harder. This could be a moment of life or death, they could kill him for this sin. And even more, she wasn't supposed to be here. She wasn't supposed to talk to him anymore or look at him or come to his castle; she wasn't even affiliated with them anymore.

The ex-Princess cursed. She looked at Will, her cheeks flushing as well, and then back to Nico before hastily shutting the door again.

Will, stunned, turned to Nico slowly. "Was that…?"

Nico shushed him, holding his finger to the older boy's lips. He sprung into action, nearly falling over as he shimmied into his royal uniform once more. He jumped towards the door, smoothing down his dark hair with one hand, and swung it open to reveal the embarrassed blonde who'd walked in on them only two seconds earlier. She sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck, her cheeks stained a red to rival the one the boy in his bed was probably wearing.

"Annabeth Chase," the Pevanshire acknowledged. "Come in," he instructed, and taking a deep breath, she did.

…

The three of them sat in awkward silence for a minute or two. She stared at both Nico and Will, but Nico couldn't quite detect the expression on her face. He'd never been able to read those pesky Ashingtons that well.

"Look," Nico began, the tips of his ears burning with color, "I—"

But Annabeth held up her hand, cutting him off. "It's no big deal, Nico. You're only a year younger than me. I'd expect nothing less." She was curt, and he was sure she didn't want to talk about this, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting to explain.

"But it was probably quite a shock for you, and even though it's your fault for barging in—"

"—I didn't want your guards to catch me," she interrupted, but he ignored it.

"—I just feel like I'm obligated to explain, and—"

"Nico, stop," she demanded, and he did. He nervously fiddled with the corner of his jacket. "You don't owe me anything. I'm sorry I caught you off guard."

"But—you're not angry? Confused?" Nico licked his lips, hesitant.

She shook her head. "The world has bigger problems than boys who kiss boys." She gave him a look that both made even his bones tremble in relief and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Thank you," he whispered, but he stopped himself when he saw the look on her face. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "What's wrong?" She didn't say anything. "Annabeth, why are you here?" He was dimly aware of Will leaning back against the headboard.

"I'm here to ask you to leave this behind."

Nico blanched. "Excuse me?"

"I heard of your coronation," she whispered, shaking her head to herself. "And I also heard about your engagement."

Nico's face darkened. It was still a touchy subject, and Will tensed next to him.

"Given your current…" Annabeth gestured vaguely to the both of them, "I can guess that you're not exactly happy about the predicament. I have an offer for you."

"I'm listening."

"Come with me," Annabeth breathed. "Leave behind this cold life of royalty, take this healer with you if you'd like, leave behind the engagement, leave behind your throne for your father to claim once again, leave behind this castle of ghosts."

"Bianca's buried here," Nico pointed out, his features pinching downward. "I won't leave her. Not for forever."

"Then do what I asked of Malcolm," she requested, and Nico's pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Take part on the democratic council and preserve this land with the Canadians. Don't let this home die, but don't fight us, the Amazons, and the Canadians. Fight one less war, fight only against the Calbournes and the Rayas, and join me. Leave behind a life you're not happy with, leave behind responsibilities, and fight with us instead of against us. It's not like you're particularly passionate about the monarchy anyways. Be on the winning side," she persuaded.

Nico blinked. He wasn't even sure what to do with that. That was… that was a lot.

"I wish you'd asked two weeks earlier," he whispered. If he hadn't been King, he would've left, no questions asked. Persephone and Hades would protect Bianca's grave, he could escape this life not worth living, and maybe Bianca would've been smiling down on him from the Heavens above, proud of him for living his own life and not becoming a minion of these tight rules. But then he remembered, and his full rage came back.

"Wait… it's true, then? You really joined the Amazons?" His eyebrows furrowed together, his temper quickly shooting up at the reminder of his sister.

Annabeth soberly nodded.

"I take it back. I would love to give this kingdom up to good hands, not the filthy hands that put my sister in her grave in the first place!"

Will's hand was on his shoulder in an instant, comforting the King.

"I can't believe you, Annabeth! You were always so good, you and your brother. You joined Bianca's murderers. Have you lost it entirely?" And had there been a lapse in his judgement? How could he forget, even momentarily, that Chase was associated with those bloodthirsty beasts now?

"About that, Nico." Her voice wavered, and Nico squeezed his eyes shut. This was going to be bad.

"What?" he growled.

"Bianca's death wasn't entirely the Amazons' fault."

"Oh, really?" he asked, a dry tone creeping into his voice. He glared at her and she flinched.

"They asked me," she whispered, her voice shaky. "They asked me to pick targets, but I couldn't, so Luke did. But I let it happen. She wouldn't have died. But Luke set off a bomb that night, and she died. And I didn't mean for it to happen, I swear! But she was bleeding all over me, and I had a concussion, and her death has haunted me to this day!"

This was so much worse than he'd anticipated.

"You mean to tell me it was your power-hungry greed that is partially responsible for my sister's death?" He could hear his breathing in his ears, and before Will could hold him back, he shoved her. Not hard, not so much that it hurt her, but Annabeth fell to the ground anyways. He wanted to murder her, he wanted to have her bleed like Bianca had, he wanted it all, but Will had screamed out his name in surprise, and Annabeth had this guilty face etched on, so he stopped himself.

"The answer is no, and it will always be no. I should kill you now, but I'll let you go. Never come back here again." He pointed a skinny, white finger towards his door.

Annabeth tried again. "Nico, please—"

"No, Annabeth! I will not help your cause, I will not help you take more family away from me or anyone else. Get. Out."

Will scrambled to his feet, reaching out for his lover, but Nico roughly escaped his hold.

Annabeth flared up again. "But Nico, you can't live like this!"

"Do not mistake me for you," he spat, glaring at her with icy eyes.

She staggered back, her mouth parting in surprise, but then she surprised him instead. Annabeth slumped forward in resignation. "You're right."

Nico hesitated, unsure of where to tread from there. Will had froze next to him, too.

"I know it's long overdue, but… but I'm sorry. For everything." She spread her arms, helplessly, and shrugged. "I know it doesn't even begin to cover everything, but it's something I should've done a while ago. I'm not very good at this sort of thing, but I'm trying, and you know all about that, being sorry and having no words to say something when you know you should but you just can't." The corner of her mouth curved up, but it was humorless.

Nico felt these weights pressing on his chest. How many times had he been where she was, standing in front of somebody, unable to tell them how much they meant?

"I'm not perfect, far from it, and I make mistakes, and I hurt people," she said, gesturing to him. "But when I say sorry, I mean it. I can't really make up for it, though I'd offer," Annabeth pointed out, "but I just…" she trailed off. "I need you a lot more than you need me right now, and in the faith of total transparency, I'll explain." Quietly, she began to explain her conversation with Malcolm and Athena.

Nico watched as she flexed her fingers, using her hands to tell a story in itself. He watched as she warmed at the peak of her plan, and as she stiffened at the criticism. He watched as she pointed out of his window where, sure enough, she'd left an assortment of carnations on the grave. He watched as her hand trembled at the mention of Jason. He watched as she talked about Percy—a pain he shared also—as she crossed her arms over her chest, almost like she could protect herself from the hurt. He watched as she bitterly explained Luke's latest activity and how she planned to crush it, burn it to the ground. He watched as she subtly begged for him to come with her, to end a war or two out of the many, to save her from the hole she'd dug for herself and for the people she'd sworn to protect.

And as each new layer of Ms. Chase was revealed, Nico found that Annabeth was really just as human as everyone else. She hurt, she succeeded, she grieved at her lowest points, and flushed a lively pink at the highs, she just wanted to save everyone and everything and it was too much, but he couldn't discredit her for lack of trying.

In some ways, she reminded him of Bianca a lot, actually. The way she held herself, it was the same grace his older sister had, it was the same calm demeanor, and not composed exterior. Perhaps that's why he decided to say yes.

"Nico?"

"Fine."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up in excitement, and at the same time Will blinked with large blue eyes at him. Nico's face didn't change.

"Really," he confirmed. "We are not friends right now, obviously, but for my people, and my parents, and my sister of course, I'll come, I'll be recruited to whatever downtrodden base you stay at, and I'll leave this world behind."

"Thank you," she whispered, stunned.

"Thank me by winning these damn wars. Enough have died." He glanced down, his feet cold all of a sudden. Was he really doing this? Leaving behind his newly acquired crown, his family? He'd take Will, too, of course, but it wasn't the same. The life of a King to a life of a rebel. That would be new. But some part of him deep down convinced him that this is what his sister would have wanted, the start of something new.

"I'll do my best." She glanced around the room. "We'd better get packing."

Will fetched a bag from one of Nico's quarters, and together the three of them began to prepare for the journey in front of them.

Annabeth

Gathered around the bonfire, their shadows seemed long in the light. Nico was seated next to her on the log, the only one who dared to keep her company now. Even Percy had faded somewhere in the crowd, and she was sure he had been avoiding her recently. That was fine with her; the feeling was mutual.

Nico was a head shorter than her, and he was quiet, but he was surprisingly good company the past few days, as was Will, though she suspected the blond felt a bit more awkward with her. Slowly moving past history, Nico had grown a close friend of hers again, and though sometimes he seemed to be irrationally angry with her, he was coming around again, the final bandage over her heart. His silence was comforting.

"We'll run out of people," Annabeth voiced, and Reyna blinked at her.

"We just acquired so many from the prison," the General pointed out.

Annabeth was very aware of people discussing her behind her. Foolish, but she wasn't in the right anymore, at least, not in the eyes of the public.

"It's not enough." The blonde shook her head. Someone behind her whispered power-hungry, and she found solace in the way Nico's knuckles turned white around the base of the log. "We need more if we're going to win the final wars."

"The King of Epresh already picked our side," said Reyna. "Though, soon to not be King, I suppose. And with His Highness right there," she pointed to Nico, "that war is out too. That leaves the Rayas and the Calbournes. How could we run out?"

"You underestimate them." Annabeth frowned. "There's more to it than two simple wars, I just know it."

"Intuition again?" Thalia muttered under her breath. She'd been avoiding her too.

"I've got an idea," Percy began, stepping out from behind the people. They hastily parted way for him, almost afraid of the ex-King. That's why her and Percy had formed an unspoken agreement in the first place—it was nicer to be comforted by one another than feared on your own.

"We storm the White Hospital," the Calbourne suggested.

Piper glanced up then. "And save everyone inside?" She looked to Percy, hopeful.

"And save as many as we can," Percy agreed, nodding at her. "But more importantly—"

"—those who want to fight, those vengeful and angry from being locked up, they join us," Annabeth finished. Percy's head snapped up to her in surprise, and she held his gaze, fiercer than him. After a few moments, he looked away first. "It would exponentially increase our numbers; Octavian's captured too many. It'll be like summoning a demon, walking into that hellhole, and he'll probably be after me or another ex-royal, knowing his bloodthirsty self, but I need to find him too. If I can get a few answers out of him, I think we'll have a major advantage."

Reyna pursed her lips. "It's risky, but if we're careful, I'm on board. All those in favor?"

Annabeth's anxiety diminished at the sea of hands.

"Very well," Reyna decided. "We'll make plans first thing tomorrow, and leave the day after. Annabeth, see me after this. We need to pick squads, designate jobs, the usual mission tasks. You are all dismissed."

Amazons and Canadians alike scattered every which way, the air filling with dead silence, but as the blonde followed Reyna's pace to the tactic northern shelter, she was in another headspace entirely, simply imagining what it would be like when she finally got her hands on Octavian.

She was sure he thought he had the upper hand, but he had to just wait and see. He'd killed Jason, had taken her best friend away from her, and he'd played the part of a dictator, a psychopath when he'd reopened that damned hospital. As far as Annabeth was concerned, there was barely enough room for one psychopath in her world, and that space was occupied by her ex-betrothed.

There was a storm inside her head, and it was killing all the flowers. Storms took no prisoners.

A/N: My replies to the reviews are sloppy today. Ik they are, but I'm so done w everything rn, so just don't be too mad, mkay? Until next time~

Fangirl xx

Guest: I mean I hated that Rick killed him off too (which is a rant for another time lol), but I feel that Jason's death is really going to shape this story and its characters (especially 'Beth), and I know his death won't be in vain. I'm glad you like the story, though :)

Butterflies765: Well, I wouldn't consider myself as "great writer" or anything, but I'm glad that I can make you feel more understood with the updating issue. Cassandra Clare's books are my reason for existence. Thank you; Calypso was difficult for me to write because I've never really connected with her. Too bad Octavian's not my favorite psycho. (That award obvi goes to Luke, himself. What a twisted, complex mind~) I love how you talk about Percabeth after this chapter was just them being straight up aggressive the entire time. I love seeing so many takes on them as well, though. Yeah… I was hoping to get more Jiper in before I killed him, but you know, I was getting impatient. He needed to hurry up and die so I could move the plot along. (Tbh, I literally have a list of all the characters who are going to die and how, and in order that I cross off as they go. Like the freaking Death Note or something, so… I'd just start bandaging yourself now if I was you :P) Too true. RIP canon blond superman. I'm sorry I didn't add Drew in this chapter. Plus Nico's POV was shitty since I rushed through it :/ Hopefully the next chapter will be better, but I'm still sorry. (PS I just wanted to say thanks for reviewing some of my other stories, too. I saw the reviews a while back, but I kept forgetting to let you know how much I appreciate them.)

DaughterofAthena223: I'm glad that you're enjoying it so much, and I'm excited to see another Red Queen lover. I might have to reread that series again soon—I miss it so much. Jason's death is the first of many, but hopefully the others won't be as painful as his. *shrugs* What can I say? Love and war go hand in hand, and death takes all, the sole victor regardless of story. Victoria Aveyard knows it to be true lol :P

Reader: Lmao why is that me. Even when I know death is coming, I pretend it's not and then wound myself rip. It was rough, my dude, so I totally get why you chose not to read it lol. Welp. Your pessimistic mind was partially correct! Percy didn't talk about his nightmares, but their argument was def angst-filled. Not that Annabeth told him about the notes on her own though :P Ugh, I'm so sorry I didn't get to Drew this time. Plus I rushed Nico's POV, and it's all shitty now, so maybe next time will be better, but for now, please accept my sincerest of apologies. I hate putting out lower quality content. Maybe I'll start with Drew next time since it's just been that long since we've seen her.