Hey everyone! SO sorry for the long wait - as I said, the holidays are a super busy time for me, but I should get back to updating at least weekly, maybe even twice a week now that we're back to normal. I have a nice long chap though to make up for the wait!
Please read, review, and enjoy! :)
- September 13th, 1774 –
"Ha!" shouted Annabeth, looking gleeful. "Got you!"
Percy groaned, wiping the rotten-apple sludge out of his eye. "That's the third time, Annabeth. If your grandmother comes out and finds you like this – "
Annabeth shrugged, biting into a crisp red apple carelessly. "I don't care." A mischievous look crept into her grey eyes as she glanced down at Percy. "Are you sure you don't want to join me up here?"
Percy felt a shiver of fear just looking at her. They were at Annabeth's grandparents' house, far from Boston, in Virginia, near Williamsburg. David and Sarah Chase, Frederick Chase's parents, owned an apple orchard on their large plantation, and they had invited Annabeth to spend a few weeks there at the harvest. Percy had come along, in part because Annabeth's parent's insisted on having someone to keep an eye on their slightly rebellious seventeen-year-old, and partly because the tensions in Boston had grown.
The warm Indian summer air was thick with the scent of apples baking in the late summer sun, and in true Annabeth fashion, she had climbed to the very top of the tree and sat on the highest branches with her golden curls blowing in the gentle breeze. Percy disliked heights, and after Annabeth had found out this fact she never let it go.
He glanced up again. "Our basket's almost full. Just a few more should do it," he called. Annabeth nodded, her mouth full, and reached to pull a branch heavy with fruit closer to her. Her creamy forehead, so often creased with worry lines, was smooth and carefree, the lavender circles under her eyes faded. He liked seeing her like this, happy and not thinking about making up some new story to feed Major Pitcairn.
"Incoming!" she called, sending down two apples. Percy caught them and placed them gently in the basket. She threw down a couple more, making the basket full.
"That's good!" he told her, watching as she easily swung down from the branch and her bare feet found footholds in the rough bark. She finally landed on the grass beside Percy, shaking leaves out of her hair.
He pulled a piece of bark from a golden curl and carefully moved a branch out of her way. They finally stepped into the warm sunshine, free from the cool shadows in the trees.
"Let's leave the basket here and pick it up before we go back to the house," Annabeth suggested.
Percy laughed. "Swimming?"
She grinned back. "Swimming."
Although back in Boston, if the two had ever gone swimming together it probably would have caused a scandal, out in the fields and woods of Virginia it was fine. The river flowing through the fields, bordering the edge of the forest, was clear and cool, perfect for the sweltering September weather.
Annabeth took off running, her mob cap falling off and her bare feet kicking up dust on the dirt pathway leading down the hill. Percy laughed and followed her, relishing in the feeling off his toes, normally cooped up in tall leather riding boots, digging in the dirt. In less than a week, he had gained calluses from bare feet constantly, and with just a thin shift instead of his thick red uniform, he was quickly getting tanned in the hot sun.
They had reached the river, and Annabeth was already pulling off her light pink dress, leaving on a shift and bloomers underneath. Percy had blushed furiously and looked away the first time they had gone swimming, but after so many times he was used to it. He pulled his own shirt over his head, pretending not to notice how Annabeth let her eyes linger on his tan torso.
She jumped lightly onto a fallen log overlooking the river, the trees shading her. Percy grinned as she jumped in with a large splash and followed her. She squealed as she surfaced and was dunked by Percy, shivering in the cool water.
After swimming and splashing each other for about half an hour, they climbed back onto the grass and lay in the sun, letting the warm air dry their sopping clothes.
Percy glanced at Annabeth. "What time did your grandmother say tea was?"
Annabeth leapt up. "Oh, dear. I think she said we were having company too – Percy, let me have your watch!"
Percy grinned impishly holding the watch an inch above her flailing hands. "What do you say, Miss Chase?"
"Perseus Jackson, I swear," Annabeth threatened, her glare directed at him, "if we're late again my grandmother will kill us – or me, specifically. She dotes on you."
"I know," Percy sang. "I am a British officer doing my duty to our country, England, and serving our king." He finally let Annabeth have the gold pocket watch he always carried, and she quickly unclasped the cover.
"If she only knew…" Annabeth muttered grouchily. Her face paled as she checked the time. "We have ten minutes to get up to the house and changed."
"Dammit," Percy muttered, pulled on his shirt frantically and threw Annabeth her dusty pink dress. They raced up the hill, to where the sprawling plantation house sat overlooking the fields of cotton.
"This… is all... your fault," Annabeth panted as she ran up the green hill leading to the house.
"How… is it… my fault?" Percy asked her, struggling to catch his breath. "You're… the one… who suggested we go swimming!"
"You should have kept track of the time, idiot!" Annabeth hissed. "Now come on. We're going to have to sneak in." She beckoned to the right, instead of the going up the steps of the front porch. Percy followed her, shaking his head.
They crept around the huge house, to the servant's entrance. Annabeth brushed her hand along the top of the door, feeling for a key, and unlocked the heavy door. It opened with a creak, and Percy quickly followed Annabeth into the hallway, cool and dark compared to the heat of the day outside.
"We'll have to use the servant's staircase," she whispered. Percy nodded assent and followed her. Together, they crept up the dark staircase. Goosebumps rose on Percy's arms, his wet skin and hair making him shiver.
Annabeth halted and opened a door cautiously, peeking out to make sure no one was coming. "Come on," she whispered. "This is your floor."
"Thank you," he murmured back.
She grinned at him. "If you get downstairs first tell my grandparents I had a headache and will be joining them shortly. I mean, my head does hurt, so it's true."
Percy stifled a laugh. "All right."
He quickly traveled to his room and pulled off his damp, dusty clothes. He pulled on fresh breeches, stockings, and shoes. He then buttoned up a linen undershirt and reluctantly put on his red wool jacket. If there was company, he would be expected to look like a proper British officer, even if it was uncomfortable.
Percy wet his hands in a bowl of water on his dressing table and ran it through his hair, doing his best to tame the wild black strands. One of these days he might grow it out into a ponytail, like most men did, but he had never developed a knack for fixing it and had chopped it to his ears when he was made an officer.
When he deemed himself presentable, he exited his room and hurried down the stairs, pausing to glance up when he heard a door on the floor above him slam. He shook his head, grinning and knowing Annabeth was frenziedly getting ready for tea.
"Officer Jackson," Sarah Chase greeted him at the bottom of the curved, glossy staircase. These were the front stairs, so it was shiny and smooth compared to the servants stairway
Percy greeted her with a smile. "Hello, Mrs. Chase."
. Sarah Chase's gentle voice went along with her sweet demeanor and soft grey hair under the lacy mobcap. Her aged forehead suddenly wrinkled into a thousand worry lines. "Do you know where Annabeth is? I had thought she would be here by now. We have company."
"I believe she mentioned she had a headache earlier, so she will perhaps be a little late," Percy lied smoothly, escorting Mrs. Chase to the front room, where David Chase chatted amiably with a young man with white-blond hair and a tiny scar on his upper lip.
"Officer Jackson!" Mr. Chase said, standing in greeting. "This is our neighbor, Jason Grace."
The young man, about Percy's age, stood up and bowed politely, but stiffly. He had stern, bright blue eyes, and well-defined muscles under his linen shirt and grey wool jacket. "Officer Jackson."
"He owns the neighboring plantation, but he will be moving to Boston in a month to take over a tavern that his uncle owns," Mr. Chase explained. "He has just returned from a trip to Boston yesterday, bringing some of his things up there."
Percy nodded. Jason's mouth was set in a firm line – obviously he was a Patriot. Percy held in a laugh, thinking of what Jason would do if he found out that maybe Percy wasn't the high-and-mighty British officer he appeared to be.
Suddenly Annabeth appeared at the door. She had cleaned up quickly, her curly hair having mostly dried in the sun on the way back. She was wearing a light blue, cotton dress, and a lacy mobcap covered her still damp curls, although she looked a bit pale. She curtsied, every inch a proper lady and far removed from the girl who went swimming in the river and climbed to the top of apple trees.
Percy noticed Jason's cheeks coloring and felt a tinge of jealousy, but he pushed it down. "Mr. Grace, this is Annabeth Chase, granddaughter of Mr. and Mrs. Chase."
The blond-haired man bowed. "A pleasure, Miss Chase."
Annabeth, seeming to sense Percy's hands tightening into fists, came over and took his arm. He relaxed as she touched him, pretending not to notice Mrs. Chase looking pleased at them together. He and Annabeth took a seat on the horsehair loveseat, Percy digging his boot-clad toes into the plush carpet to keep from sliding off the slippery sofa. He glanced over at Annabeth, who was biting her lip. "Are you alright?" he whispered while Mr. Chase talked to Jason about the cotton harvest.
"I am rather tired," she admitted. "And my headache's getting worse. I probably should take a nap later."
He nodded and squeezed her hand gently. She sent him a crooked Annabeth-smile, and Percy felt a rush of warmth.
Small talk was made for a few moments before tea was served. Percy brightened when he saw there were blueberry scone and took three, pretending not to notice Annabeth shaking with suppressed laughter beside him. She daintily took one from the china plate, and Percy shot her an Are you crazy look. Annabeth just rolled her eyes.
After tea, Mr. and Mrs. Chase excused themselves, leaving the three young people alone and rather awkward.
After five minutes of talking about the weather, which had already been covered earlier and Percy certainly didn't need to discuss again, he blurted, "Would you like to come to the stables? Perhaps we could go riding."
Jason's face relaxed. "Certainly."
Percy offered Annabeth a hand. "Would you like to join us, Annabeth?"
She shook her head. "Thank you, but I believe I shall go take a nap before supper." She quickly excused herself.
"Are you two… courting?" Jason asked hesitantly after Annabeth had left.
"What? Oh, no, we are not," Percy stuttered. "I mean, I would, but she doesn't want to and it's kind of a complicated situation…"
"Oh, about that, uh, complicated situation," Jason said in a low voice, before stopping and glancing around warily. "Let us speak in the stables. I have something I am supposed to tell you."
Percy was confused, but went along with Jason anyway, the burning sun beating down on his red wool jacket. He looked longingly towards the river, sparkling along the edge of the woods. Perhaps after Jason left he and Annabeth could go fishing.
They entered the stable, and Jason immediately pulled off his formal coat. "I apologize, but it is much too warm for that," he said, laughing. "I suppose when I move to Boston I shall have to get used to wearing them all the time, but not yet."
Percy laughed easily, pulling off his own coat. "True."
The other man's face darkened. "I have a message for you from Sam Adams."
Percy raised his eyebrows. Samuel Adams was a well-known member of the Sons of Liberty, a group that defied the British rule and worked closely with the Observers and other spy groups around Boston. "Yes?"
Jason glanced around cautiously. "He says you need to be careful. More and more soldiers are deserting, and with you being gone already for a week…"
Percy nodded, feeling relief that that was all Sam was worried about. "We will be returning in another week, so I do not believe I have anything to worry about, though I might send a letter to my commander. Paul Revere knows where I am, as well. But… why did Sam tell you about me?" He decided not to mention Annabeth's missions, not knowing whether Jason could truly be trusted or not.
"Why, I am a Son of Liberty too. I have known Sam since I was a boy and he was a hot-headed young man," Jason replied, as though surprised Percy didn't know. "I am moving to Boston in order to help with the group and train with the minute men – the tavern is just a cover story, but it will be helpful when Patriots need to meet." He smiled, the scar over his lip stretching on his tan skin. "Sam told me about you and Miss Chase, risking your lives every day, and I wanted to personally thank you."
Percy nodded, grinning back. "We are happy to serve this new country."
Jason laughed. "And enough with the formality. I've lived here for years, and there are numerous riding trails in the woods that are enjoyable. Would you like to go for a ride?"
"Certainly," Percy answered, grinning. He strode to Blackjack's stall, where his mount greeted him with an affectionate nicker. He quickly saddled up the horse and pulled himself up, trotting out of the stable to where Jason as waiting on a silver-grey horse.
"This is Tempest," Jason answered his unasked question. "I bought him in an auction a few years ago. He had an injured leg, and so I got him for rather low, but now that the wound has healed he can travel like the wind." The horse neighed, chomping at the bit. "Are you ready?"
Percy nodded, laughing at their steeds' impatience, and when Jason offered to race him to the river, he accepted eagerly. Maybe this young Patriot and he could be friends after all.
•
"That… was not… possible," Percy panted, trying to catch his breath.
"It certainly was," Jason said smugly, patting Tempest. "Tempest is much faster than Blackjack, believe it or not."
Percy looked up at the other man, annoyed. "Jason, that was cheating. You can't flap a sheet so Blackjack spooks and bucks me off."
"Why not?" the blond asked. "We never had any rules for the race."
Percy grunted bad-temperedly. "I demand a rematch."
"Alright," Jason shrugged. "Tempest and I shall just have to win again."
"That's what you think, you – " Percy froze. "What was that?"
Jason's brow furrowed. "What?"
"There. Behind those trees," Percy hissed. "Someone's there, I saw someone move."
Jason suddenly look ill-at-ease. "There's nothing there, Percy." They had dispensed with the formality of Officer Jackson long before this. "I'm sure it was just a bird…"
"No, I swear, I saw a person," Percy insisted.
Jason's voice tinged a bit higher, like he was trying to hide something. "Um, maybe it was a deer, I don't know what you could have seen, there's no one there – "
Suddenly, an arrow whistled through the clearing, sinking into the tree behind Percy, directly above his head. He froze.
Soft laughter accompanied a smooth voice flowing from the woods. "So you finally met Perseus Jackson, did you, Jason?"
Jason sighed, accepting his defeat. "Piper, you know you shouldn't have done that."
A Native-American girl, around Percy's age, materialized from the trees. She had long, dark brown hair twisted in numerous choppy braids around her head, one tied with an eagle feather dyed bright red at the tip. A short skirt made of deerskin covered her middle, leaving most of her slender brown legs bare. Her chest was wrapped with some kind of fur hide, leaving a strip of brown skin between her top and skirt, and numerous necklaces made of clay beads, feathers, and leather dangled from her neck. A buckskin quiver stuffed with arrows was slung over her shoulder, a beautifully decorated bow in her hand, and quilled moccasins on her feet.
Percy gaped. "Is that… are you… I thought…"
"What, you believe the Cherokee in Virginia had moved west?" Piper laughed shortly, her feet moving silently and gracefully toward Jason. "No, Perseus Jackson. We will remain on our hunting grounds as long as possible."
Jason dismounted and embraced the Indian girl, then kissed her softly on the lips. The girl's multicolored eyes seemed to dance.
"I thought Indians had black hair and eyes," was all Percy could think to say.
Piper smiled as though talking to a young child. "My father is the chief of the Cherokee tribe, but before he was chief, when he was simply a young brave, he had had much firewater and went to a white man's town. He brought back a white woman and married her, but she died in childbirth when I was born." She said something to Jason in Cherokee, to which he nodded seriously and answered her.
"But," Jason continued in English, "how did you know who Percy was?"
Piper smiled. "I have been watching him and the other girl, Annabeth, ever since they first arrived. She is quite pretty," she seemed to add as an afterthought.
Percy reddened, the image of Annabeth in nothing but her shift and bloomers, leaping into the river, flashed in his mind. "But… first, why did you shoot at me?" he asked.
Piper rolled her kaleidoscope eyes. "Oh, please. If I had wanted to hit you, I would have. I didn't, so you are safe."
"Alright… thank you, I suppose," he conceded. "But are you two courting?"
Piper's face fell. "No, my people do not trust the white man, and Jason's father had forbidden him to see me. Now that his father is dead, though, he will be moving to Boston."
"We have to find a way to be together," Jason murmured, seeming to forget that Percy was there. "I won't leave you here, Piper."
"You know there is no way I can come with you," Piper answered sadly. "The white men do not trust the Cherokee. I cannot change myself into a white girl, into someone you can be with and not be judged by others."
"Wait – so, you want to go to Massachusetts to stay with Jason?" Percy asked, an idea blooming in his mind.
"Yes – but it is not possible," Piper said hesitantly.
Percy grinned. "I think I have a plan."
•
Annabeth groggily look out the window. It was dark out, but she had no idea what time of night. Had she really slept since teatime? Why had no one called her for supper?
She sat up, and immediately felt a surge of light-headedness overtake her. The room was spinning, and her vision blurred and shifted. Getting out of bed was torture, but she made it and shakily pulled on her robe over her nightshift.
Annabeth held onto the railing of the staircase for dear life as wave after wave of dizziness hit her like a storm. Her head was pounding, and she felt cold. So, so cold. She had to find Percy. Where was Percy? She wanted a drink. She want to lay down in the fire. Maybe that would warm her up.
She reached the bottom of the staircase and heard voice coming from the parlor. It sounded like Percy and someone else. Her foggy brain detected laughter and the scent of smoke.
"Not again!" Percy groaned, throwing his cards on the floor. He had a pipe in his mouth. "You're much too talented at cards, Jason."
"No, you're just terrible," Jason answered, casually puffing out of his own pipe.
Just then, Percy seemed to notice Annabeth standing in the doorway. "Annabeth! Are you alright? You didn't come down to dinner, so we saved you some…" his voice trailed off. Quickly, he got to his feet and crossed the room to where she stood, leaning against the door.
"I… I am so cold," Annabeth whispered. Percy put his hand on her forehead, and a look of concern flooded his green eyes.
"Annabeth, you're ill! Why didn't you tell me?" he asked irritably. Annabeth felt another wave of dizziness coming on, but this time her aching body couldn't hold up against it, and she felt her legs give out. Percy caught her, cursing and trying to soothe her simultaneously. Through a fog, she could hear him telling Jason to go get her grandparents and the doctor, could feel him gently taking her in his arms and sitting on the sofa, whispering soft words and swearing at himself for being such a blithering idiot. She smiled faintly, despite the pounding of her head.
"You're cute when you're worried," she murmured into his shirt, burying herself in the warmth of his body. "Your eyebrows get all scrunched together."
She saw him smile at that, gently brushing her tangled curls out of her eyes. Since it was summer, there was no fire in the grate, but Percy held her tightly, bundling her up in her robe even though her skin felt like it was on fire.
Her inside felt as cold as ice.
Suddenly her grandparents were there, fussing over her and calling the doctor. When the old physician arrive, he had Percy carry her upstairs to her room. She vaguely could hear the doctor telling Percy, in his wheezy old voice, to leave the room, and Percy protesting. When the room was empty except Annabeth and the old doctor, he quickly took off all her clothes but her thin under-shift, muttering to himself about herbs and medicine and ice.
Annabeth moaned quietly. No, not ice. She was so cold. So cold.
But ice was brought up anyway, into a bathing tub with some water. She was undressed and put into the tub, shivering and shaking violently. The doctor felt her forehead again, seeming to get even more worried. She could hear him grinding up herbs with a mortar and a pestle, making a paste of something extremely distasteful-looking. It was forced into her unwilling mouth, dribbling down her cheek into the freezing water.
After a few more hell-filled minutes – or hours, time seemed skewed and strange – she was taken out and dried off, dressed in a silk nightshift and put back into bed. In blurry vision, she could see Percy burst back into the room, despite the protests of the doctor, and taking her hand, whispering in her ear. He was shaking, though she didn't know why.
Minutes, then hours passed. The old doctor fed her more of his herbs, shaking his head and muttering. Percy stayed with her the whole night, holding her hand. She faded in and out of consciousness, colors crowding her vision, memories she hadn't thought of in years resurfacing. For a time, Percy's features morphed into her mother's, her first mother, who had died when she was a child. She felt a cool hand brush her sweaty forehead and imagined her mother was whispering from heaven. Could she join her mother? Please, mother, don't leave me. I'm so alone.
And then her mother disappeared, and Percy's face appeared. He was saying something, though what she couldn't make out. His face was wet, and a thought – he's crying – prodded Annabeth's fuzzy mind. She wanted to make him feel better. Percy, please don't cry. I will go to my mother. I can see my mother soon.
It only seemed to make him cry harder, his voice breaking as he begged her, begged her something desperately. She just smiled at him, not knowing what he was saying. It was alright.
All through the night, she tossed and turned, screaming with unknown horrors that haunted her mind, then fading away and coming back and seeing her mother. Sometimes one of her grandparents would appear above her bed, their faces worried and damp with tears, and sometimes it was the blond man, Jason, that she had met yesterday, though she had no idea why he was with her – but always Percy was there, holding her hand, piling more blankets on her, helping her sit up to drink that horrible medicine, stroking her face, murmuring and comforting and just being there.
By the wee hours of the morning, Annabeth was fading. Her fever had reached its highest, her skin was burning up, and inside it was icicles, pricking and cutting her like frosty knives. She was shaking violently and crying out deliriously. Was it her mother there? And then Luke and Thalia came, and she wondered if they were real or another dream.
Suddenly Luke and Thalia's faces morphed into two different faces, Jason and another person. It was a girl, with dark tan skin and chocolate-colored hair. She smelled like smoke and dirt and fresh air, her rough hand touching Annabeth's forehead, then she was talking quickly to the others in the room. She ground up herbs – Annabeth hoped they didn't taste as badly as the doctor's had – but instead of making her eat them, the girl made a poultice and after sending the boys out, laid it on Annabeth's bare chest. The girl bathed her forehead with cool rags, but also tucked blankets around her, with stones warmed by the fire finally beginning to melt the icy cold inside Annabeth's body.
Annabeth finally began to drift to sleep, lulled by the girl's soft humming. Soon, all was black.
•
Percy had never in all his life felt so helpless.
First, he failed to even notice Annabeth was sick earlier. The doctor said it was malaria. No one knew how one contracted it – some said bad food, others said humid night air – but no one knew for sure. It had crept up on Annabeth, suddenly appearing without giving any warning. She had been fine only that morning – how could her life be in jeopardy now? He cursed himself with words too vulgar to speak aloud at his idiocy. Perhaps if he had called the doctor earlier; perhaps if they hadn't gone swimming again –
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Perhaps nothing could have been done – but what if her illness could have been prevented by him?
Now she was dying. His heart felt like it was ripping in two when she said, in her delirious, fevered state, that she was going to see her mother. She had mentioned that her birth mother had died when she was younger, but she had never really talked about it. To have her unknowingly pour out her feelings and nightmares, tossing and turning and screaming at invisible fears tormenting her restless mind – it was almost unbearable to watch.
Jason had left earlier that night to find Piper. Apparently the Cherokee had many remedies for various sicknesses that worked better than any of the white man's, and she was their last hope. The old doctor had just shook his head despairingly, unable to do anything else.
When Piper had arrived, in the very early morning, she had set immediately to work, making a poultice of herbs and heating stones in the fire to keep Annabeth warm, while bathing her forehead in a cloth wrung with ice water.
After about an hour, the sun peeked over the forest, its rays straining to touch every dark shadow the night had left. Piper quietly left the sickroom, closing the door and joining Jason and Percy sitting in the parlor silently.
"She's asleep," the Cherokee girl said softly.
Percy looked up blearily. "Is… is that good? Will she be alright?"
Piper shook her head. "Her fever will either break while she sleeps, or it won't. If it does, she will live; if it does not…" she left the last part unspoken.
Percy's shoulder's sagged in despair. He literally couldn't imagine life without Annabeth anymore. She had found a way into his world, and now she was his world.
What if she didn't wake up?
Piper quietly sat next to Jason and rested her head on his shoulder. Jason looked pale from being up all night, and Percy felt a sudden rush of gratitude. He had only met the young man the day before, and if Annabeth did wake up, it would be because of Piper. She was practically a stranger, and though he knew he had promised to bring her to Boston so she could stay with Jason, she was doing this of her own free will.
"Thank you," he muttered, his throat feeling raw.
Piper smiled sadly at him. Jason nodded, too tired and grieved to do much else.
They sat like that, in silence, for another hour, before Piper wordlessly got up to check on Annabeth. Mr. and Mrs. Chase had stayed up most of the night, but Percy had insisted they go to bed a few hours before, promising to get them if anything changed. The old doctor, doing his best, was with Annabeth
He stood up as Piper came back out. "Is she…?" he asked. He didn't want to know the answer.
Piper had tears on her face, but her expression was unreadable. "Go in."
Percy tore to the bedroom and stopped. Annabeth was deathly pale, eyes closed. Her light blond curls were a tangled mess, spread across the down-filled pillow. He fought a wave of nausea at seeing her normally vibrant, energetic form like this, holding onto the doorframe for support to his suddenly weak legs.
Approaching the bed, he took in every detail of her frail body, remembered all the times they had had and the memories they had shared. Remembered the first time he had seen her, when she bumped into him on that cold, rainy day – her curls wild and grey eyes distracted and warm and so, so beautiful.
Would he see those eyes again?
He sat down on the bed, not even trying to stop his tears. They fell, the warm, salty droplets, onto his hands clasping Annabeth's cold, white ones.
He froze. She was warm and sweaty and he could feel her heartbeat. That beautiful music of life beating and singing and roaring through her body, announcing life had returned into the frail frame.
"Piper!" he called frantically, glancing at the door.
And suddenly the pale hand squeezed his own in a silent embrace. "Percy."
"Annabeth," he breathed. "Annabeth, Annabeth, Annabeth – "
She laughed weakly, and honestly Percy thought he had never heard a more beautiful sound. Sweat had beaded on her forehead, and Percy held his hand up to it. Her fever had broken, and her brow was cool.
"You're alive." Percy let out a breath he had seemingly held all night, relief flooding him like the morning sun through the window, shining on Annabeth's sweaty curls and pale eyes, red-rimmed from the long night. He laughed. "You're alive, you're alright Annabeth, I thought you were dying – "
Annabeth's crooked smile filled him with warmth, her voice soft. "I couldn't just leave you, idiot. We're partners, remember?"
He rested his head on her chest, feeling the melody of life beating through her frame. "Don't ever do that to me again," he murmured into her shift, unashamed of the salty droplets staining the cloth.
He could feel Annabeth's fingers tangled in his hair, and her breathy laugh seeming to set the fallen world back on its axis. "I won't," she replied, pulling him closer, her chest rising and falling in that wonderful rhythm. "I promise."
And that's all for today! In case anyone doesn't know, malaria is caused by mosquito bites and is often fatal. I don't claim to know everything about it, though. Google definitely helped me out with this one! :)
Please review! Love ya'll!
WM