((A/N I know most of you hate the idea of an OTP being broken up by something as trivial as death, but I swear, this one will survive :) Just give it some time to develop, and you'll be having the same old Percabeth with a not-so-same-old story plot, I promise! R&R))

I spend the night in his cabin. It makes my heart ache that I can't touch him, talk to him, even smell him. He's crawled into his bed, off the floor, thank gods. He doesn't cover himself with a blanket, but holds something close to his face. I lean in to see what it is and my heart shatters.

He grips one of my shirts, his face buried in it. His other fist is wrapped around my camp necklace. It must've been ripped off before the accident.

Not even when he's sleeping does he look peaceful. His face is still flushed, and his eyes are strained shut, almost as if he's only pretending to sleep. But I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest and hear the soft snore that accompanies sleep.

I sit on the edge of his bed, although I'm not sure how. The bed doesn't bend or creak where I lower myself. The blankets don't even bend. Like I'm hovering, just above them, unable to disturb the plane of reality that I've been banished from.

I don't feel tired. Probably never will. But I'm satisfied with simply watching him sleep. His quiet slumber lasts about an hour. Then, around midnight, his eyes flutter open and he whimpers something against his pillow. He sits up and runs his fingers through his hair.

And then he looks at me. His eyes stare right into mine, and I feel a line of electricity shoot through my spine. His mouth opens slightly in awe, but then his expression changes. He squints his eyes in confusion, shakes his head, and then rolls over onto his side, muttering something about losing his mind.

"I'm here!" I cry out, the sound echoing through the silence. He doesn't hear me, but in that moment, I'm almost positive he saw me, even for a fraction of a second.

My heart races, and I try to get his attention again by kneeling in front of him and talking not even a few inches from his face. I run my hand along his arm, his cheek, through his hair. And then I try harder, willing myself to become solid enough that when I hit him, he will feel it. He will.

But he doesn't, and I punch right through his chest where his heart is, tears running down my cheeks. How could I have gotten so close and still lost him?

I find my feet and begin running, straight through his door and up to the Big House where I know Chiron is. The moment I step into his room, his eyes fly open and he sits up, clutching his chest.

"Di immortales! Annabeth, you cannot just storm into my sleeping chamber!"

"It's called a bedroom," I tell him, "And it's not like I can knock."

His lips twitch, and he looks at me, his gray hair covered in a blue nightcap. "What is it that you need?"

"Percy saw me!" I exclaim, "I know he did, he looked me right in the eye."

Chiron shakes his head, "That's impossible. He was probably looking at something behind you."

"No." I say with finality, "I swear to all the gods. He knew I was there."

He sighs, "I have lived for millennium, and never have I once heard of ghost-mortal interaction."

"Bianca contacted Percy after she died," I point out.

"Yes, but that was from the Underworld. The rules are different in the spectrum of the living. There was no way in Tartarus that Perseus was able to see you."

It's as if he's backhanded me across the face. I stumble backwards, and try to steady myself. My hands land on a desk, and it feels perfectly solid. "How come some things feel solid, but others I can pass through?"

Chiron shrugs, "It depends on your needs. If you need somewhere to sit, you are able to. If you need to pass through a wall, you will."

My mind churns a few thoughts around, "What if I need to feel someone instead of something?"

The centaur ponders this, "I don't know in what situation that would be necessary. You'd be breaking a few laws, but it might be possible."

"We need to try!" I say, stepping forward and placing my hand on his shoulder. It phases through. "I need to touch Chiron's shoulder," I tell myself aloud. My fingers still don't feel. But Chiron's face contorts.

"Do that again," he orders, his eyes shut. I tell myself what I need again, and try to touch him, but to no avail. Or at least that's my first thought. Chiron, on the other hand, looks awestruck. "It… felt cold. Barely noticeable."

"But you felt something?" I ask quietly. He looks me in the eye and nods slowly.

And I begin to run. I turn on my heel, intent on getting back to Percy, but something grabs my arm and I'm yanked backwards onto the ground. I hit with a thump, and look up to see Chiron staring at his hand. "I… I just…"

"You grabbed my arm." I say.

"No." Chiron breathes heavily, "No, no."

"Yes, you did."

He shakes his head, "Impossible."

I smirk, "I've done the impossible numerable times."

He doesn't laugh.

I sigh, "Look. I have eternity. And I'm going to use that time to figure out a way back to Percy. He needs to know it wasn't his fault."

"It wasn't." Chiron agrees, "There was nothing he could have done."

I'm in the forest, running, pounding through the trees. "Go! Run!" I scream, pushing the kids ahead of me to run faster. Most of them are much younger than I am, seven or eight years old.

Percy runs beside me, his hand clamped over the bloody wound on his neck, looking back over his shoulder every few seconds. His eyes meet mine, and when he sees what I'm about to do, he shakes his head. "No."

"Keep going. If you don't help them, the kids won't make it back." I say, slowing my run. I scan the trees. It should be here any moment now.

He shakes his head again, causing blood to seep down through his shirt, "I'm not leaving you."

"You need medics!" I scream at him, pushing at his shoulders, trying to get him away from danger. "Please!"

He hesitates, and then reaches over and caresses my cheek, kissing me gently. It's a slower kiss than I would normally be comfortable with, considering the impending doom machine headed this way, but I melt into it anyways.

I reach up and touch my lips, still feeling his brushing mine. In the split second I had the memory, my heart has broken all over again. "I'm going to help him." I whisper quietly.

"It's not a good idea. He's still… tender. Hurt." Chiron's voice pulls me out of the secluded corners of my mind.

"I'm not waiting until he's numb," I growl.

"You'll be rubbing salt in the wound," Chiron tries to convince me. But I will not be convinced.

"That's better than cutting him open again after he's scarred over." I say sharply.

Chiron holds his hands up in surrender, "Fine. We'll try."

"I don't try," I smile at him victoriously, "I succeed."

Now he laughs.