A/N: I knew no one would really appreciate it had I took another month for this chapter so I made sure I finished it right after the previous one. So here it is. Read on and let me know what you think.

And please do leave a separate review for this chapter. Thanks.

NEVER LET ME GO

Chapter 30: NEVER LET ME GO

PERCY

"Now, you guys will be paired and will need to complete the report before the end of the semester."

I continued doodling at the last page of my notebook, not really listening to my instructor lecturing. It was kind of hard, seeing as though before I left the house, Annabeth was having contractions. I wanted to stay home, thinking that maybe it was the day but she wouldn't let me. She's stubborn that way.

"Percy Jackson will be paired with . . ." the sub began. Paul was really the English instructor but he had to leave due to some personal family matter. He was currently in Maryland.

"Percy!" Mom's voice rang inside the classroom. I looked up to find every single pair of eyes trained on her. Her face was flushed and she was breathing heavily. Her face reddened more when she realized what she had done. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Gilbert, for the interruption but . . ." she trailed off, her gaze falling back to me. "Annabeth is about to give birth!" she annouced, loud enough for it to be heard by everyone.

I stuffed my notes hastily into my backpack and rushed to the door, not even bothering to say goodbye to the instructor on the room, whose name was Mr. Gilbert – except that I didn't really care to know before. I hurried outside, to where I knew Mom had parked the car, leaving my mother behind. No thought was in my mind, except that I was anxious – both in good and bad way.

Annabeth was in the back seat, gripping the headrest of the seat in front of her so tight her knuckles were turning white. I tossed my backpack in, climbed beside her and took her hand between mine.

"Are you okay?" I asked, which was stupid because her sweaty face said it all but hey, I was nervous.

"Ask that question again and I'm going to push you out of the car while your Mom is driving," she threatened, which basically said she was trying to handle it. I gripped her hand tighter and pressed my lips to it as Mom started the car.

The drive was insane. Being ADHD and all, I couldn't really sit still but then, it was like my condition was magnified tenfolds. It seemed to me like every car in the freeway was moving slower than usual on purpose, trying to drive me mad.

I was a nervous wreck, which meant that I talked a lot. I mean, more than usual. I looked at my girlfriend, my son's mother-to-be, and asked, "Does it hurt?"

The glare she sent my way was enough to burn a hole into my thick skull. "Wanna trade?" she challenged.

"Nah, I'll pass." I wiped my free hand on my jeans, which was clammy with sweat. "Hey, Mom, did you bring the baby I packed last night? Remember, the one with the big whales printed up front?"

"They're dolphins, Percy," she pointed.

"Right," I said. "The longish snout they have – "

"Seaweed Brain?" Annabeth asked, complete with a firm squeeze of my hand.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Shutting."

So the rest of the drive was done in silence.

I honestly tried to remember every detail of how that day went but I couldn't. A perk of being ADHD. Next thing I knew, I was standing inside the delivery room, having the bones in my hands crushed to dust. There was much screaming, not solely from Annabeth but from me, too.

It was a good way to release the tension.

Then there was that cry.

I was compelled by the sound of it to turn around, to take a look but a hand grabbing mine stopped me. Annabeth's face was red, tears were in her eyes from the pain of delivery, and even when it was over, she kept on crying. I brushed the hair away from her face, which was matted in sweat. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

"What for?"

She was unable to answer as that was also the moment she lost consciousness. I was momentarily alarmed but then figured it must be from the exhaustion of delivering our baby. I placed a kiss on her forehead. Looking up, I expected a nurse to hand me my son, just like what I saw in some movies, but he wasn't there. I was then informed that he was taken out to be cleaned and that I would be able to see him not long after that. Before leaving the room, I gave her another kiss, knowing very well that she would be where I left her.

The wait was crazy. It truly was. It felt like every move of the second hand of the clock corresponded to an hour, instead of a second. Mom and Paul were out, buying food so I had no one to talk to.

Then the curtain covering the nursery was pulled. It was slow, maddeningly slow and it was all I could do not to bust in the door and grab my son. I stood up on shaking legs and walked to the viewing window.

There he was, bundled in blue baby blankets, cooing in a way that only babies could pull off. The nurse ushered me in and handed me my baby, with instructions to return him. I wish I could explain how I felt that very moment but I couldn't. I just knew that I was holding the very definition of love in my arms. He was life and purpose combined. There was protectiveness, with love that surged through me that moment, telling me that I would do anything for my son.

I knew as long as I was holding him, I would never be lost. And I would never let go.

The summer camp wasn't very crowded, given that summer wasn't here yet. Although there were year-round campers who were there, some I recognized, some completely unfamiliar to me.

I was pushing my son's wheelchair while Annabeth, Reyna and Pierre were ahead, carrying all our supplies. I took the time to tell my son some stories, escapades that I had in this place when I was younger.

"See that big pile of rocks there?" I asked, pointing to the edge of the tree line. The natural rock formation jutted just above the roof of the cabin closest to it. "That's where your Mom placed her team's flag when we had a game; it was the very first time that I beat her," I shared.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Let's just say it involved some really awkward flirting, lots of yelling and a very bad black eye," I informed him.

Noah chuckled as I wheeled him to the ramp leading to the cabin we were going to occupy. Annabeth was already starting a fire to keep our son warm while Pierre and Reyna were busy taking out the food from the ice box we brought.

"What do you want to eat?" Reyna asked aloud.

I knew that question wasn't met for me so I looked down and raised an eyebrow to my son. He shrugged. "Anything," he said. He then seemed to think for a moment before adding, "If it's okay with you, I'd like Dad and Mom to show me where they found Mrs. O'Leary."

Annabeth and Reyna both looked at me. It wasn't very cold outside but for someone as weak as my son, it wasn't ideal to go out even in this temperature at this time of the day. I wanted to say no but a slight shake of Annabeth's head made me answer otherwise. "Sure," I said. "Can you grab an extra blanket?" I asked her.

It was a good thing that there was already a trail leading to the beach so I didn't have to worry about a bumpy ride for my son. He was smiling the whole time, letting the falling rays of the sun warm his face. Annabeth had wrapped an extra blanket around him so I knew he wouldn't be cold.

I could remember the spot very well, even when it had been fifteen years since the last time I'd been to this particular part of the camp. There was still the bush of wild berries growing just a stone's throw away from the shore and the tip of a boat that had sunk a few meters into the water. I wasn't sure if it was a real boat or something the owner of the camp had placed there.

"This is it," Annabeth announced.

Noah looked around. "It's beautiful," he whispered. He looked up to me. "Help me up, Dad?"

"Why?"

"A little dip in the water?" he asked. When he saw my reaction, he smiled. "Just my feet, please?"

I grabbed his hand and helped him up. He was a lightweight so it wasn't a problem, but it felt like I was carrying a ton of his suffering. Years of pain and fear suddenly had a physical weight and I almost stumbled. It was a good thing that Annabeth was there, holding our son's other hand. Together, we guided him to the shore until all our feet were in the water. Thankfully it wasn't cold.

Noah sighed and looked up. "It feels good," he said, eyes closed. "Thank you for letting me experience this."

We stayed there for some time, the sea lapping softly against our ankles. It was Noah who requested for us to sit down. Annabeth placed another blanket on the sand and I helped my son lying down, then I had to sit behind him so he had something to lean back to while Annabeth was beside him, one of his hands between both of hers.

"This is what I've wanted all along," Noah shared. "Just the three of us in a quiet place, away from the city. Thank you for letting this happen."

"Sorry it had to take fifteen years," I murmured.

My son shrugged. "That's fine. It still happened and that's all that matters."

Annabeth was quiet as she rubbed her hands against Noah's palm. "Are you cold?" she asked him. "I can get you an extra blanket, jacket, or whatever you need."

He smiled at her. "It's fine, Mom. Let's just stay here and enjoy the moment."

We stayed quiet after that, letting the sound of the water hitting the shore drown out the sound of the city we left behind. I couldn't explain it but the silence, the soft sound of the sea against the sand and the chirps of the birds from the forest – they made me realize that this moment was different. I couldn't put it to words; I only knew Annabeth felt it, too, based on the look on her face. I just wished that whatever it was, the water could wash it all away, together with all my troubles and Noah's disease and come back with a simple, yet happy life. But it wasn't that simple.

"Are you afraid?" Noah suddenly asked, breaking my reverie.

"Of dying," he answered simply.

I opened my mouth for a reply only to come up with nothing. I knew exactly why he was asking it and wanted to get mad at him, to tell him that it wasn't helping anyone, but then I realized getting mad wouldn't help, either. I honestly wanted to answer, to provide a little bit of comfort, but the words I was forming got lost and was dragged by the harsh water into the bottom of the sea, forever lost.

"A little," Annabeth answered when she sensed I had nothing to give. "I guess anyone who says otherwise is lying."

"But why?" Noah asked. "I mean, it's where we're all headed; that's how all journeys end. It is nothing but the next adventure, why be scared of it?"

"Well," Annabeth said, thinking. "I guess I'm not scared of dying itself but what comes after it. The not knowing is what scares me. What happens after that? What's waiting for us after our time in this world is over? Will there be something, like another side waiting for us? I guess those are the things that I'm afraid of."

Noah smiled. "For me, those are part of the mystery, why I welcome it." He paused, noticing that I wasn't speaking. He gave me a sheepish smile before continuing. "Me? I'm not afraid of it. It's inevitable. And after years being like this, I know that it's how this will all end – "

"Noah – " I began, but he squeezed my hand, telling me to let him finish.

"The only thing I'm scared of is that when this is all over, and when I'm gone, you won't have any more life left to live," he said softly.

Now Annabeth was openly crying. I wanted to, but my son's words stopped me. I had to know what he meant, because he was right – how was I to keep on living if he had gone? How do parents go on when they lose a child?

"What do you mean?" I managed to croak out.

"Dad, you spend every waking moment looking after me, taking care of me and I'm afraid that when I'm gone . . . what would you live for, Dad? What would be your reason to get out of bed every morning when you don't have to remind me to take my medicines anymore?" He looked at Annabeth. "Mom, what's to happen when you have no one to donate your bone marrows to? What then? What will be your inspiration to design great architectures when I'm no longer around?"

Annabeth choked on her words and she wasn't able to form any coherent response. I was no better. There were always those thoughts in my head for the longest time but I was able to always push them out every single time. But right then, when they were coming straight from my son, the idea of not having him anymore hit me head on and I found myself falling with nothing but infinite darkness offering to catch me.

"Don't worry about us," Annabeth was finally able to say. "Your Dad and I will find a way to get through it. You just worry about yourself and getting better and not us."

"It's time, Mom," he said. "I can feel it and there's nothing we can do to stop it. I just want you to promise me, both of you, that when I'm no longer here, you will help each other move on, that you will find reasons to live and be happy. I will wait for that day when I will see you both smile again." He leaned forward and kissed his mother's cheek and did the same to mine, kissing the tears that were falling relentlessly down my face away.

"I promise," I whispered.

"I promise," said Annabeth.

And then it happened.

Noah gasped and clutched on his throat, gagging and searching for oxygen his lungs could no longer support. Blood started to pour out of his nose and mouth, his life leeching out of him. His body started to convulse and I could no longer support it.

Seymour had said it; Annabeth had told me about it and most important of all, Noah had. Countless times before, but those weren't enough to prepare me for what was happening. I didn't think that even a lifetime of suffering was enough preparation for something as agonizing as this.

Annabeth started sobbing as she pressed our son's hand against her lips, muttering, "I love you" over and over again. I held him against me, wanting to protect him against what I knew was about to come. His free hand grasped my arm and squeezed tightly. I wanted to tell him to hold on, to not let go but my voice was lost and nowhere to be found.

"Percy," Annabeth breathed. "It's time. Let him go."

I looked at her and wanted to yell for being so weak, only to realize I was the weak one. Here my son was, hurting but couldn't move on because of me. I was the weak one. "Hold Daddy's hand and never let it go; never let me go, buddy." That was the promise that I upheld all these years, that Noah would never be away from me and I knew that he wasn't letting go. It was I that had to open my arms and set him free.

I pressed my lips against his temple as I felt Annabeth hugging the two of us, her tears soaking the side of my neck. "Shh," I whispered to my son, brushing the hair way from his eyes. "Shh. It's okay. This is it, buddy. Just let it go. Let it happen." Surprisingly, my voice was steadier than I thought. "I'm letting you go now, baby, but please, please keep your promise and never let me go. Never let us go."

Annabeth reached around and pressed her lips tightly against our son's forehead. "I love you, baby, and I will see you again."

Tears and pain became our reality that moment. The agony was unbearable and it felt like I was drowning. I wanted to just sink beneath the harsh current and stay there but I couldn't. I knew I couldn't abandon them because this was it. This was the moment when everything was being ripped away from me.

I kissed Annabeth's forehead, and then my son's, too. "You can go now, buddy, just please always remember that Daddy loves you, so, so much, Noah. So very much."

The convulsion stopped and he laid still, blood dripping from his nose and mouth, his eyes almost lifeless. There was just enough thread of his life left for him to utter three simple words, his parting words. "Dad . . ." he breathed, looking deep into my eyes. It was as if his whole life flashed by. All of a sudden he was a baby. I was carrying him and he was giggling about the funny faces I was making. Then he was five years old and was diagnosed with the cancer. Even at his young age, he was already very strong, very tough and was able to go through all those hurt that I was unable to handle. Then he was fifteen, lying here on my arms, his life ending. How was it fair for someone whose life had just begun to die? How was I supposed to live now? What would be my purpose?

"Mom . . ." Annabeth looked into his eyes and started kissing his face, even the part where there was blood. I knew that even when she left him after giving birth, Noah felt just how much Annabeth really loved him, how much pain she endured for him.

"Love . . ." he whispered. Then it was over. Noah's suffering had ended, along with his life. The dreams and things he could've accomplished already gone. There was so much he could've done, moments he could've lived but instead he was here, lying dead on his father's arms.

Annabeth hugged me and I hugged her back, needing someone to keep me sane. I knew I had a lot of things to do now, to accomplish. Funerals to plan. Yes, funerals, because that moment, Aedan Noah Jackson was not the only one who died; Percy Jackson died with him.

[Next - Chapter 31: FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS]