Author's note: Alright! I believe I have some explaining to do since I haven't updated this in probably. . . a year? Jesus, that sounds bad. Anyway, I was kind of hit with a big truck made by a company called Life, and I had to deal with that for a while. Besides, when things kinda slowed down, I sort of forgot about this story. I didn't feel that it really had that many fans to really continue it. I feel that when people read fan fiction, it's for the original main characters and not the setting or major plot elements. Perhaps that's why these aren't very popular. The other reason I haven't updated is quite simple, most of the major action scenes (which I believe is what my readers are most interested in) have already been written and read. Most of what's left is the lovey-dovey, feely-feely stuff that I don't feel is really fun for the main target audience of my story. i could be totally wrong on that front, too. Not a lot of feedback makes me judge, sue me. However, it's not fair to the few people who actually enjoy this story to leave it open ended. So, here y'all go. I hope you enjoy and I sound really corny, I apologize in advance. Please leave a comment saying if you'd like another chapter before wrapping it up with the epilogue. Thanks again for reading!

Big Luke

It's been two days since I woke up. I still wasn't allowed to leave the infirmary even though I could walk with a little help and my shoulder was healing up nicely with the ambrosia and nectar that I was taking. In fact, I could use my right hand again without my shoulder hurting. Brittany pretty much stayed there the whole time, we had a lot to talk about. I explained everything with my ex-girlfriend; had to tell her that I don't remember having sex with her (but I wasn't really denying it either). I also told her that I didn't have feelings for my ex-girlfriend.

I was bored senseless until I remembered that I still needed to clean my guns. I asked Brandon to bring my M16 and my 1911 from the Kill House with their respective couple cleaning kits.

"That stuff can't be good for you to breath in," Brittany told me as I was wiping down the excess lubricant off the outside of my M16.

"It's safe. Trust me," I told her as I pressed a fresh mag into the magwell and chambered a round. I leaned it up against the bed on safe. Then it was on to my 1911. I dropped the magazine and looked at the holes on the stainless steel side. Two rounds still in the mag, plus the one in the chamber. I pulled the slide back and started disassembling the weapon. I noticed Brittany staring pretty hard at that pistol. "You alright?"

She inhaled deeply and looked down at her hands. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," I replied.

She just shook her head. "Your plan didn't work."

I was confused. "Which plan would that be?"

"The one where we don't fall in love with each other and we don't fall apart if one of us gets hurt or killed," she answered. "That plan."

"But I didn't die, Brittany. And neither did you," I told her.

"You did die, Jon Luke. Four times," she told me. "Then you slipped into a coma for a month. Worried me to death. Not to mention, but Brandon and David were saying that you were in denial when you guys thought I was dead."

I worked the lubricant on the slide rails and wiped off the excess as I looked her in the eyes. "I don't know what to tell you, Bo. I didn't force you to fall in love with me."

Apparently, that was not the right thing to say because she slapped me across the face. . . hard. Hard enough that I started tasting blood on the inside of my cheek. "If you wanted me to stop loving you, you should've stopped saving my life!"

She got up and stormed out for the first time in two days. I stomped on the footboard which got a big split down the middle. I slammed my 1911 on the mattress next to me and threw my head back against the pillow.

I still couldn't walk on my own just yet but at that moment, that didn't really matter. I had to manually lift my legs off the side of the bed to get to my feet. "Mmhmmmmmmmm-hm-hm-hm!"I howled through sealed lips from the giant steak that was impaled through my gut. The steak only grew hotter and hotter with each step I took. It was slow going and I could feel my blood leaking through the bandages and into my T-shirt at an accelerated rate.

Wherever she was planning on going, I pretty much only had one guess to figure it out. She wouldn't go back to her cabin, she told me all about the incident with Drew. She probably wouldn't want to see my face so she wouldn't go back to the Kill House or the underground shop. Too many bad memories at Half-Blood Hill or the sword fighting arena. Did I ever tell her that I was allergic to strawberries?

That was it, the fucking strawberry fields. They hid her well from the other campers as she cried. It was less obvious than the beach or the lake. And on top of all that, I was allergic to fucking strawberries!

So, I turned and changed my course for the strawberry fields. I hobbled from side to side with each agonizing step. I started to get dizzy when I entered the bushes. Everything got hazy as I started tripping over myself. I could hear her sobbing somewhere to my two o'clock. I turned to that direction and my foot caught on something that I only thought of as a gods damn strawberry bush. The ground punched hard at my gut as I landed on my face.

My breathing would halt itself every few breaths from the pain. "Ou-." The whole world was spinning, left was right and right was left. My mental compass was more like a prize wheel at a carnival. "Britt-!" I still couldn't get out a whole word with out the pain in my stomach cutting me off.

I heard the footsteps come over to where I was laying, "Holy shit! Are you alive?" The voice didn't sound like Brittany's, but it was female and she did sound like she was crying.

I forced myself to turn and looked up at her, "Yeah."

The brunette started this frantic dance as she looked at my wet t-shirt and and my bloody hands from where I was trying to keep my guts in my stomach. I reached out with one hand and grabbed her ankle. That got her to look me in the eyes.

"Get. . ." I winced again. ". . . help."

I could see it click behind her eyes. Then she nodded.

"Hur- Hurry," I gasped.

She ran off and I looked up at the sky. The sun was hitting me on the right side of the face, it was late afternoon.

I took a shaky, deep breath. Now that I wasn't moving, the pain in my stomach wasn't nearly as bad and the bleeding slowed. I turned my head from left and right and saw the devil berries hanging off their bushes. Guess that meant I was in the rut in the dirt between the rows. I'm sure the berries would taste delicious, but I'm already dying of massive blood loss. Do I really need to add one more thing to my list of problems? Yeah, I didn't think so either.

With nothing else to do, I started to think. I thought about a lot of things, like who the fuck that brunette was going to run into first. A small part of me was wanting it to be Brittany. Mostly, I was hoping it wasn't. I had to talk to and smooth things over but I didn't even know what I was going to say. I'm a guy and I don't like to admit that I have feelings and certainly don't like to talk about them, but I thought I loved her, and I guess she did too, for reasons I still fail to decipher.

How much time had passed? Had the sun moved much? Hell, I couldn't tell. That brunette wasn't just going to let me die, was she? I lifted my left hand as my right was still holding my small intestine in my stomach. My vision was in no way clear, but I looked over my left hand anyway. It was starting to pale again. Brittany had been using that as a sign of my health improving, looks like I'm taking a few steps back. I tried another deep breath, still shaky, still painful. Still alive, Marine. Keep it that way!

I tried to look around to see if I could see anyone coming, all I saw was fuzzy dirt and fuzzier strawberry bushes. I could almost imagine the Fates taking their scissors and running the bottom blade underneath my string, just itching to squeeze those handles together and ending my life right then and there in the strawberry fields.

Things only got fuzzier till it all faded to black. I knew I was still alive because I could still feel the pain in my stomach, but I was going numb fast. My sense of time, or what little sense of it I had at that moment, was starting to slip away. My face had numbed so much that all I felt from those gentle face slaps that paramedics use to try to wake an unconscious person was my neck twisting just a little. Then I could feel the vibrations in my chest and in my throat like I was groaning. I couldn't really hear anything, but one thing reach my brain. Not much, just one word: "Dumbass".

I opened my eyes and felt like I had a few days ago. I wasn't on oxygen, but I had an IV back in my arm and fluid running into my system. I looked at my arms and thought I was looking at a moving corpse.

"You're awake," said a female voice to my right. I looked over and saw one of the nurses that was helping me out the last few days. Casey was her name, I think. I looked down at the footboard just to make sure that it wasn't all a dream. Sure enough, that crack I made down the middle was still there.

The other thing I noticed was that none of my friends were there. Did I even have friends anymore? Then I started to think about it for a second. That only meant that I hadn't been out long enough for the word to get to them yet.

"How many hours have I been out?" I asked Casey.

She checked the clock on the wall, "Mmm. . . I'd say going on twenty."

Shit, I was wrong. "Oh. Do my friends know?"

"Yeah, they know. They think you're kind of a dumbass, but they know," she answered. "I haven't seen Brittany, that blonde Aphrodite girl? I haven't seen her yet."

Like I didn't know who Brittany was. She was the reason I put myself in this situation.

"Well, that's because I think I screwed things up with her. Maybe screwed things up so much that I don't think I can make things right." Whether Casey wanted to hear the story or not, she sat and listen to me tell her the whole thing between Brittany and I. I blame the medication they were probably giving me for the secrets of the Strike Team I had spilled. I even told her that I loved Brittany.

"Well, it sounds like you need to apologize to her and tell her that you love her back," Casey told me when I finished my story. "Does she have a way out of camp?"

Fuck! I hadn't thought about that! "Um. . . Shit. Yeah, she does. . . if she really wanted to. I need to get out of here."

"Yeah. Think again, Yosemite Sam. Those two other guys already had this conversation. They're out looking for her now," the nurse told me.

I was about to say something back but Annabeth waltzed into the room. Every time Kate gets a phone call, a map of everything in a 50 mile radius pops up over the windshield and one of the little dots that shows up is hers because she has a cell phone.

I wasn't really thinking when I asked Annabeth, "Hey, Annabeth! Do you have a cell phone I can borrow? I have to call my car."

Annabeth turned her head and her ponytail bounced off her right shoulder blade. Then she just kind of cocked her eyebrow like she thought I was crazy. Then she looked over at the nurse like Is he alright? You know, mentally? Casey just kind of rolled her eyes like Humor him, please.

"Please?" I asked again.

Annabeth just nodded and replied, "Sure." Then she fished the flip phone out of her pocket and tossed it to me.

I caught it, flipped it open, and dialed KATE's number. Then I lifted the phone to my ear and waited.

It's not like she was busy. "Hello, Annabeth."

"Close, KATE. I'm borrowing her phone. Listen, have you seen or heard from Brittany at all? Do you know where she is?"

"Yes and yes," KATE replied.

I waited for a second for her to tell me when and where. When I realized that she was being stubborn, I asked, "Well, don't fuck around, KATE! Where is she?"

"Brittany is currently unconscious from an extended binge of champagne in my front seat behind an expensive bar in Manhattan," KATE answered.

"Champagne ain't cheap. How'd she afford that?" I asked.

"She stole your ATM card," answered KATE blatantly. "She almost brought another drunk male into my cockpit, however I incapacitated him before he could enter."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, she's pretty pissed at me."

"I have been informed numerous times about how much of an asshole you are."

"Yes, I'm sure you have. Just. . . just bring her back here, please?"

"Jon Luke?" I heard Brittany's voice ask in a groggy tone.

"Yeah. It's me," I told her.

"I'm mad at you," she replied like she was still a little drunk. "Your car is a buzz kill."

"I know, Bo," I told her. "KATE, listen up, take Brittany someplace for breakfast. Get her protein. Like a big, meaty omelet-"

"I've been trying to get at your big, meaty omelet for a while now," interrupted Brittany.

I rolled my eyes again. "Then bring her home. Understood, KATE?"

"Understood, Jon Luke."

"Alright. Annabeth is giving me the death glare. I gotta go. Do as I asked, KATE. Bo, eat your breakfast," I told them. And Annabeth was sighing a lot and was looking very impatient. Then I hung up and tossed the phone back to Annabeth. "Thanks again. I really do appreciate it."

Annabeth nodded. "Girl problems?"

I rubbed my eyes as I answered, "Naw. I'm just an idiot is all."

"Alright. Well, I hope she forgives you for it," she replied as she started moving towards the door with something in her hand, some kind of cleaner or disinfectant.

I stared at my boots. "Yeah, me too." Then I looked over and saw Casey still sitting on the bed adjacent to me. "You know I'm awake now. You don't have to sit there anymore."

"Actually, I do. Chiron's orders that you are to be under constant watch so you don't get up again." She yawned and stretched her arms. "My shift is almost over, though. Then you'll have someone else to talk to."

Almost two hours later, KATE had brought Brittany back to camp and David and Brandon found her. I guess she kinda got a little mad at them for telling her shit she already knew, like that I was looking for her. I don't she knew that I had actually gotten out of bed like I wasn't supposed to. That kind of humbled her in the conversation, I think.

She stormed into the infirmary with a pissed off look on her face. "The fuck were you thinking?"

I sighed. "I was thinking that I screwed up and I needed to tell you that I love you."

Brittany halted in her tracks. The nurse who relieved Casey, Stella was her name, subtly got up and walked out of the room. Brittany just kind of stood there and stared at me. I wasn't sure what to say next, if anything at all.

"Why didn't you tell me that yesterday?" she asked. "You know I love you back. The war is over. Why?"

"You deserve an answer-"

"You're damn right I deserve an answer! I've loved you since I met you! I tried not to after last summer, but when you came back, it all came back too!" She looked pissed, but I could tell her eyes were starting to tear up.

I was almost speechless. "Bo, you said that if I wanted you to stop loving me, then I should've stopping saving your life. First off, you know I would never just let you die, especially since you have Mathew and it would ruin him. Second, you know why I didn't want to get too attached to each other."

"Yes, but that doesn't explain for not telling me yesterday," she said again.

"Bo, do me a favor and picture a container under a tap. The container is you or me or anyone really, and the water is feelings for another container. Now, there's a lot that goes into how fast the container fills up: the speed of the water, the volume of the water, the size of the container, if the container gets bumped and falls over and it has to restart. Stuff like that.-"

"So, what was it that took your container so long?"

"Well, I guess I got a pretty big container. It certainly wasn't from a slow or small stream."

"I think you've bumped my container a time or two," she told me, looking down at the floor.

"Feels like I've done it more than twice," I reply, taking my turn to look down at my hands which were kind of nervously wrestling with each other.

She didn't say anything to that. Maybe that meant I was right, I don't know. She just walked up and sat down on the edge of my bed next to my legs. She propped her quad up onto the mattress and looked at my BDU pants that were still on my legs. They weren't my Strike Team ones, they were one of the pairs that I always wore around camp. For some reason, an image of my legs in a pair of dark blue jeans flashed in my vision. The weirdest part was they were stain free.

"So. . . are we good?" I asked her because I didn't know what else to say.

She sighed and looked at me. She had this neutral expression on her face. I couldn't see anything from her face, but I could see the gears turning behind her eyes. "I still love you," she said.

"I love you too," I replied. Surprisingly, the words slipped across my lips without any friction.

But Brittany's lips didn't as she lunged at me and pulled my head to hers. She kissed me full on, and I returned the gesture. I'd like to say that the world's weight lifted off my shoulders, but it actually felt like the world was pressing harder. I felt like I had a lot to make up for, and I didn't even know where to begin.