~ANNABETH~

Tears streaked, unbidden, down the blonde girl's cheeks as she buried her face in her boyfriend's chest, his strong arms wrapping tightly around her as if he would never let her go, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety even though they were in the most dangerous place they could possibly be. She sobbed into Percy's chest, letting all of her fear and worries out, grateful that the chasm was so dark and the wind howling in their ears made it hard to hear anything, but Percy, feeling his shirt dampening with her tears, stroked her hair soothingly and rhythmically, leaning down to her ear to say something; what, she couldn't tell, because she couldn't even hear her own thoughts.

Why did the Fates have to be so cruel to them? She and Percy had saved Olympus twice. They'd gone through so much turmoil and suffering and still, the Fates were like, nah, it's not enough. When would they ever get a break? Annabeth had thought that after two Great Prophecies and subsequent wars in their lifetime, they would finally get to distance themselves from the dangerous quests and live a peaceful life, finishing college, getting jobs, starting families. During her first (and she'd hoped last, but apparently not) time in Tartarus, the only way she'd gotten through it mostly sane was because of Percy, and their dreams of a future together. Her something permanent at last. But now ... all of that would never come to fruition. All the sacrifices they'd made, all the pain they'd endured, now empty and meaningless in the face of this ultimate betrayal from the ones they'd placed on such a high pedestal, the ones they'd longed for love from despite everything. Annabeth closed her eyes, rage boiling inside her, even though it made no difference, seeing as even with her eyes open she couldn't see anything, pitch-black as it was.

Being a demigod had robbed all optimism from Annabeth. You would never be able to stay sane and alive if you were optimistic; you had to expect the worst at every turn and twist in order to make it through mostly intact. So she knew, without a doubt, that this was most definitely the end of the road for all of them. She wanted to rail and scream at the Fates; she and Percy, the oldest, were only seventeen, still children by mortal standards, and Hazel, the youngest, was only thirteen. Still very much a child, still innocent; none of them deserved this. But that was the harsh, awful truth, wasn't it? They were demigods; none of them deserved this horrific life of pain and suffering they had been dealt, but their fates had been sealed with accidents of birth. The last time Annabeth and Percy had been down here, they had survived through sheer determination and luck, and had the fortune of knowing there was an exit, but this time ... This time there would be no Bob, no Damasen to save them. This time there were no Doors of Death located at the end of the maze that they could escape out of. This time they were well and truly alone; well and truly screwed. They would die down here, and none of them would make it to Elysium.

Annabeth fisted her hands in Percy's shirt and resolved that even if she was destined to die, she would not go down without a fight.

The wait, she thought, was the thing that would ultimately kill her. The first time had been bad enough, but the second time was worse. Even though in the back of her mind, she knew that they would eventually reach the bottom of Tartarus (and land on top of his body, gross, she still hadn't gotten over that little fact), it still didn't make the fall seem any shorter. If anything, she felt as if that knowledge made the eternal fall last longer, if that was even possible.

Suddenly, a thought struck her like lightning, and her spine stiffened. Percy felt it, and tightened his hold on her, his green eyes locking on her gray ones in concern. They were the only light she could see in the utter blackness surrounding them, and she gazed up into them, drowning in the endless eddies swirling in them. The last time they'd fallen, Percy had saved them by using the water of the River Cocytus to catch them. Otherwise, they'd have become demigod pancakes, little more than a stain on Tartarus's (stomach? Intestines? Oh gods, she really didn't want to know) due to the fact that they were currently travelling at terminal velocity with no way to slow themselves down. This time ... they might not be so lucky to be near a river, and even if they were, Percy's water powers had been taken away. Jason or Thalia ... but they had no powers now, either. But perhaps Nico could shadow-travel them, or Hazel could use the ground to cushion them ... She turned towards them, but belatedly realized that they would never be able to hear her. Still ... wouldn't it be better to die by crashing into the ground of Tartarus than killed by monsters or, worse, tortured by Tartarus or Nyx? It would be fast, relatively painless; a good end, all things considered. Tartarus was no place for demigods. In fact, it was designed to kill them, slowly and painfully. The air was poison, the sand was glass, the very ground they were walking on belonged to one of the most dangerous primordials ever to live. No, perhaps the best thing for them would be a quick, painless death.

They were still falling.

Annabeth wanted to scream at the ceaseless feeling of her stomach plummeting, her heart leaping into her throat. It felt a little like she was on an endless rollercoaster which only went down; she laughed hysterically at that comparison, and Percy pulled away from her a little to, presumably, look at her in concern. She didn't really know; she couldn't see his face, but she could picture that little frown he would give her when he was worried about her. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his chest, shutting out the incessant roar of the wind around her, concentrating solely on the image of his face in her mind. She thought wistfully about the plans she'd painstakingly made for their future.

They would go to college at New Rome; no matter that Annabeth was a daughter of Athena and could pretty much go to any university she wanted to, there was still the fact that she hadn't gone to proper school in ten years, hadn't taken any public exams, so wouldn't be eligible. Besides, she was tired of fighting monsters left and right; all she wanted was to settle down with Percy in a relatively normal life, and New Rome was their best bet. There, she wouldn't have to constantly look over her shoulder and lie to her friends; she wouldn't have to worry about getting waylaid by a rogue cyclops on her way to class. It helped that at New Rome, she could be with Percy too; she loved her boyfriend, but she had no illusions that he would be able to attend a prestigious university like Harvard with her. And after Tartarus ... well, she had absolutely no desire to be separated from Percy ever again.

Though demigods often died young, most never making it past their thirties or forties, especially children of the major Olympian gods, and most who lived chose to marry at a young age as a result, Annabeth had wanted to wait until they finished college and had steady jobs to get married. She knew Percy had wanted that too, if not because of himself (he rarely planned anything out, she was the strategist not only in battle but also in their relationship), then for his mother, who had fallen pregnant with him at eighteen and, though she loved Annabeth like a daughter, didn't want the same fate for the two of them. He'd probably propose in the most dorky but adorable and romantic way possible, typical of Percy. She'd tease him a bit, as was expected of them, but of course, ultimately she'd say yes. There was never any doubt of that.

Maybe a few years down the line, they'd have kids. Adorable tiny children, with Percy's black hair and Annabeth's grey eyes, or maybe Annabeth's blonde curls and Percy's beautiful green eyes. Yes, she decided. She'd like it if their children inherited Percy's green eyes. She had always thought her grey eyes were too cold, too intimidating, too plain; she preferred Percy's eddying, ever-changing green ones. There was never any doubt in her mind that Percy would make a wonderful father; sometimes she would sit on the bleachers and watch him as he taught the younger campers how to swordfight (no, she was not stalking him). He was incredible; even though he had ADHD, he seemed to somehow dredge up endless amounts of patience when working with the little ones, leaving Annabeth amazed; she was sure that she'd have given up and stormed off within the first half hour. But he persisted, and the young campers absolutely adored and idolized him. Often, when he was kneeling next to a young Athena kid, patiently showing them how to hold a sword, she would imagine that it was their child he was smiling at, their child who threw their arms around him when they finally got it right. She wanted it so fiercely her heart ached. But now ... it would never happen. Reality hit as she opened her eyes, slamming into her with the force of Hannibal the elephant. Maybe at first, she'd been too shocked, too filled with rage and fear to really process it, but now it hit her.

She would never go to college with Percy. Never be able to walk down the aisle in a white dress towards him, knowing in her heart that this was all she'd ever wanted. Never get to hold her perfect child, no first words, first steps, first days of school. Never be able to wake up to Percy's face every day. Never be able to grow old with him, and enter Elysium with him when it was time. Her - their - future had been robbed from them from cruel, callous, heartless gods who'd used them up and then thrown them away like so much trash, and the only future any of them were facing was a limited number of days in the deepest, darkest pits of hell.