Disclaimer: I do not the Hunger Games or Percy and the Olympians.
Annabeth's POV
Clove slumps forward heavily, making a short sound that sounds like her breath leaving her lungs forcefully. Blood pours from the wound in her neck, drenching the tribute under her, who pushes Clove's body off of him. Her body makes a small thud as she hits the ground, her head turning to the side, facing away from us.
"Annabeth—," He says, extending an arm toward me, but I don't reach out. I don't feel guilt, or regret, or sickness at my actions. I just feel empty, like I can't speak, like I can't move. I try to forget about the guilty relief I feel at killing Clove. She's dead.
My throbbing head and blurry vision start to overwhelm me, and feel myself drifting into unconsciousness. It quickly begins to become too hard to keep my eyes open and stand upright. I feel hands on my arms, holding me, keeping me from falling as I pass over from consciousness to unconsciousness.
The next day…
Percy's POV
I wince as Annabeth makes a pained sound in her sleep, rolling to the side. The bruises on her face haven't gone down, and the side of her jaw is cut. In moments like these, I feel totally, utterly useless.
I look around, hoping to think about something else. A little bit away, Katniss and Peeta talk alone, out of ear shot. I can only wonder what they're talking about. To my left, Nico sleeps against the bark of a tree, snoring quietly. And to my right, Thalia carves something into the ground with a stick, as if in her own little world.
I hear a small noise next to me, almost silent. I turn toward Annabeth, who slowly opens her eyes groggily. She looks around, immediately observing and analyzing her surroundings, curiosity bright in her eyes. I can't help but smile- I love it when Annabeth shows her daughter-of-Athena side.
I don't say anything as Annabeth's eyes land on me. She almost looks confused, as if she didn't know where she was or why she was there. Everything seems to come back to her and she closes her eyes and sighs, her hands on her face.
When she takes her hands off her face, I say, "'Morning."
"'Morning? I haven't seen you for days and all you have to say is 'morning'?" Annabeth's voice is scratchy and rough, almost sounding as if she was sick, but I could tell she was being playful. She didn't look well, though- her face was bruised and cut and there were bags under her eyes, both from stress and a lack of sleep. I feel a jab of pain as I remember the feeling of not being able to protect her, to help her feel better. I still feel the feeling, it hasn't left. I don't have any ambrosia or nectar to help her, and I couldn't give any to her if it did. She has to recover on her own, both physically and mentally. I can tell that killing Clove bothered her, but I don't know how to talk to her about it. If there even was a way to.
"I have a lot more to say," I reply, laughing, "But I don't want to overwhelm you."
"Percy, I have something to tell you," Annabeth says, sitting up, suddenly becoming serious. She stares out in front of her, away from me. Her voice is a whisper, "I realized something. We can't escape the arena."
"What? What do you mean?" We have to escape the arena, if we don't, we'll die. There has to be a way, there has to.
"I meant exactly what I said, we can't escape. Before we left camp, Chiron said something to me. He said, 'She's in two.' I didn't understand it at first, not until last night. Katniss has to participate in another Hunger Games, Percy. If we escape, chaos will ensue, and the odds won't be in the Districts' favors. There won't be a rebellion, Katniss may be killed, and who knows what else might happen."
"So what are you saying? That we have to die here?" I look at her as if she was insane, which she just might be. We can't die here, it isn't an option. We didn't come here on a suicide mission.
"Yes and no. I've been thinking about the cannons. The Gamemakers don't sound a cannon based on a tribute looking dead, they have a way to know when a tribute dies. I was thinking that maybe we can trick the system into thinking we're dead. I could make some sort of mixture from plants that could make it look like our hearts stopped beating."
I consider the option, it isn't bad idea. It is risky, I don't think Annabeth has done this before. But I trust her, more than I trust anyone else. She wouldn't tell me anything of this unless she was positive this would work. I nod quickly, looking at the ground, "Yeah, yeah that could work. But can you get the ingredients for it here?"
She nods, "Yeah, I think so. It's pretty simple, actually. Just some leaves and whatnot. Shouldn't be too much of a challenge."
"At least it's something. I think the others would agree to it. But how are we going to play this out? Just find some sort of way to act like we died?"
"I guess so, yeah. Hovercrafts come down and take the bodies, but I think we can slip away unnoticed. It'd just be assumed that our bodies were disposed of. I'm not really worried that it's an issue."
"I trust you," I say, holding one of Annabeth's hands between mine. "I just want you to know that I love you. I always have and I always will, forever. In case we don't make it out…"
Annabeth shakes her head immediately, "Stop. We're going to be okay. We're going to go back to camp and to our friends and everything will be fine. I just need you to have faith in me. Do you have faith in me, Percy?"
I stare at her for a second, thinking about everything we've been through, about every close call and every victory we've ever had, before saying, "I've never had more faith in anyone but you." And I wasn't lying.