Chapter Thirty One Three Little Words

"Percy," Annabeth whined, "Where are we going?" She clutched Percy's hand as they waded through the crowded streets of New York City. All around them people stopped and pointed, a few even whipped out their phones and took pictures of the two of them, giggling behind their hands. Everyone knew that Percy Jackson had gotten back together with his ex-girlfriend Annabeth Chase. It had sparked many news' stories, magazine articles, and TV spots.

The last three months had been amazing for Percy. The first week had been spent by the two of them walking on eggshells, or more Percy had been, Annabeth had been in her wheelchair still. But after that week Percy nearly exploded, sick of not being able to talk to Annabeth as they had before. Annabeth had agreed to give him a chance at being friends again. Since Annabeth was not allowed to be alone for the first month due to her leg, Percy had been busy trying to find different ways to keep her occupied as Annabeth was a very impatient person and had trouble keeping still. They had done at least twenty three puzzles (or more Annabeth had), they had watched every movie Percy owned, and Percy had played his guitar a lot while Annabeth worked on her writing as she had started a new book. After a month, Annabeth was finally allowed to go out and do things so they went to the museums, movies and the zoo.

While at the zoo, Percy found that Annabeth was more stubborn than he had known. By that time she had been using her crutches and she refused to use the wheelchair provided for her and insisted on crutching around wherever she needed to. But halfway around the zoo, she grew too tired to keep going as she had crutched around two miles and her armpits hurt like heck. So she allowed Percy to carry her to the nearest place where she could get a wheelchair and had sulkily agreed to using one.

After that incident Percy had all but begged to let him take her on a date. She had heaved a great sigh but had let him.

Now two months after they were steadily dating again and Percy couldn't be happier. They had a tendency to bicker all the time but they always ended it in a fit of laughter, realizing just how stupid their arguments could be. They tended to be over some of the stupidest things but somehow the fighting never mattered.

"If I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise would it?" Percy teased, answering her question.

Annabeth crossed her arms, "I hate surprises," she grumbled to herself.

"I know," Percy grinned. "But I think you'll like this one, trust me."

"I don't know, sometimes you can be a moron," she said.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Percy said. "Really I'm surprised that you don't know where we're going. I would have thought that you of all people would recognize it." He waved his hand in the air to demonstrate where they were. Annabeth looked around, her brows wrinkling as she tried to determine where the were but she couldn't come up with any idea.

"I have no idea," she admitted.

"For once I have stumped the great Annabeth Chase," Percy said, pleased with himself. "If you must know we're going to the library."

Annabeth gasped. "Percy Jackson knows where the library is? Call the news! He actually knows how to find a place with books," she mocked.

"Don't get used to it, I tend to avoid books whenever is possible," Percy grinned as they turned the corner. In front of them was the large New York Public library. Annabeth let out a squeal. Every time she saw the library she got excited. So many books under one roof. And to think that every book was just a different combination of only 26 letters. It was an exciting thought.

As they climbed the steps up, going slowly as Annabeth's leg was in a large boot, left over from her car accident, Percy was literally bouncing up and down in his shoes. Annabeth kept glancing over at him, wondering why he was so excited. And yet he was also nervous, she could tell by the way he had a few creases in his brow as if he was thinking deep thoughts which was a rare sight for Percy.

"Percy why are we at the library anyway?" Annabeth questioned as he pushed the door open for her.

The library was filled with different people all leaning over desks, spending their Saturdays studying or reading. Percy took Annabeth's hand and led her towards the teen section. Annabeth wrinkled her brow. What was he planning on doing?

"Okay you have to close your eyes now," Percy said. Annabeth let out a huff but closed her eyes. Percy grinned and disappeared into the many shelves, searching for a specific book. When he found it he hurried triumphantly back to where Annabeth stood, folding her arms and tapping her foot on the floor, her eyes shut tight.

Percy pressed the book into Annabeth's hands. "Okay you can open your eyes."

Annabeth opened her eyes and stared at the book a little confused. "My book?" She asked, looking at the beautiful copy of The Letter Writer which had a silver cover and the picture of a letter. Her book had come out in stores two weeks ago and it had risen to incredibly popularity which had shocked Annabeth at the same time as making her extremely proud. It had become a New York Times Bestseller in the first week it had been published.

"Open it," Percy urged.

Annabeth looked at Percy confused but complied and opened it. The book already showed that her book had been checked out three times. As she flipped through her heart skipped a few beats as she saw a few tear stains towards the back of the book:

Excerpt from The Letter Writer by Annabeth Chase

Birch pushed the door open to Hannah's room in intensive care. She was lying on the bed, her eyes closed and her breathing hard and labored. Her arms were pierced with different needles which led to tubes attached to multiple machines. When one of the girls had found her unconscious on the bathroom floor at school he grew mad at himself. He shouldn't have left her alone, she was already extremely weak.

"Knock, knock," he said, knocking gently on the door. Hannah's eyes opened a little, showing her violet pools. She gave him a small smile.

"Hey you," she whispered hoarsely.

"Hey you," he replied his voice cracking a little.

"Took you long enough to get here." She struggled to sit up but was too weak and gave up, collapsing against her pillows.

"Sorry but I wasn't allowed in here for a while," Birch explained. He came in and sat next to her on the chair next to her bed but she patted the space in her bed next to her.

"Sit with me?" She asked, her voice slightly dying out as she closed her eyes and struggled to swallow. Birch complied as Hannah managed to scoot over a little to make room for him. He sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, letting out a small sigh.

"I'm scared," she whispered, he could barely hear what she said and he felt his chest constricting.

"It's okay Hannah, you'll get out of here, I promise," he whispered back to her, kissing her forehead. He ran a finger over her cheek where there was a slight bruise from hitting the floor of the bathroom. She tended to bruise easier than others with her cancer.

Hannah shook her head, "No… I don't think this time," she admitted. "The doctors don't think I've got much longer. It hurts to breathe more and more," she said and she weakly raised her hand and waved it to signal at all of the different machines which she was attached to."The machines can only do so much to keep me alive."

"Don't talk like that," Birch scolded. "You keep talking like that and it's going to happen."

Hannah smiled at Birch and leaned in against his shoulder, closing her eyes. "Don't leave me tonight," she whispered. "Promise that you won't. I don't want to be alone."

"I promise," Birch said, smiling at her as she dozed off in his arms.

The next morning it was early and still grey outside, the sun not yet reaching the sky when Birch woke up to Hannah shifting in his arms. He opened his eyes. "Morning sleeping beauty," he said.

"You can't exactly call a girl with no hair beautiful," Hannah grumbled as she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

"Course I can, I just did didn't I?" Birch asked. Hannah rolled her eyes and coughed.

"Hey can you do something for me?" Hannah asked.

"What is it?"

Hannah struggled to sit up and reached over for a stack of letters that were on the nightstand next to her bed. She shuffled through them and then handed them to Birch. "Can you go and deliver these to my parents and to Izzy and the others on the envelopes."

"You want me to deliver one to Izzy?" Birch asked, confused.

Hannah nodded. "There's one for Jake too," she said.

"Now?" Birch whined. Hannah let out a weak laugh.

"Yes now you idiot. And then you can come back. I just want to make sure that they get to them. I can already see my parents throwing them all away," Hannah said, heaving a heavy sigh. Birch groaned a little but stood up.

"I don't want to leave you," he said as he stood up and shrugged his jacket on.

"Don't worry I'm a big girl," Hannah said, smirking a little.

Birch leaned down and kissed her. He felt her small hands run through his long dark hair and he relished in just how familiar she felt. She was going to get better. He knew that she would.

"I'll be back quicker than you can see 'Socrates'," Birch grinned as he headed out the door. "I love you Hannah Aspen."

"I love you too Birch Waters," she whispered.

He missed Hannah's tears that came down her face as she knew something he didn't.

She leaned back against her pillows, closed her eyes, her fingers ghosting her lips of where he had just kissed her. She let out a soft smile and then sighed contently, a few tears still falling down.

What Birch hadn't known, what he couldn't have known but Hannah did was:

That was to be their last kiss.

End Excerpt

Annabeth touched the pages where the last line of the second to last chapter ended and then flicked the page to the very last chapter, the last chapter where she had poured every single ounce of soul, of heart, of emotion into it. It was her bleeding her soul onto a page. After all being able to write was being able to turn blood into ink.

So many people had told her just how much her book had affected them. She had gotten countless of emails, of messages, even old fashioned letters which always made her heart ache. Annabeth looked at her final chapter, her breathe hitching a little as she read.

Excerpt from the Final Chapter of The Letter Writer by Annabeth Chase

In life storms come our way. In life things happen that we don't want to happen, we don't want to accept the pain and the suffering. We try to convince ourselves that it's only a dream… its only a nightmare and that come morning we'll wake up and be able to see the Light. Because Light makes everything clear.

But Life isn't like that. Sometimes we will wallow in darkness, in suffering, in pain and anger, angst and torment. And we wish that we could go back and fix mistakes that we made but time was not designed for us to control.

Hannah Rose Aspen died in the early morning of May 14.

She died alone.

But when the doctors came running in, their computers showing that her heartbeat had stopped, they were shocked by what greeted them. It was a peaceful eighteen year old girl, a small smile on her face who looked as if she had just fallen asleep, not been torn from this world.

She had greeted Death as a friend. Not as an enemy.

Daniel Birch Waters had his heart ripped out that day.

When he had returned from delivering the letters he had entered the ICU to see the Aspen family crying, Caroline Aspen was crying into Harold Aspen's shoulder, her whole body shaking. It was then that Birch's heart had stopped.

"Where is she?" He asked the doctor, gripping his shoulder tightly. The doctor, the doctor who had promised Hannah that he could save her, just shook his head mournfully.

"In a better place," he whispered.

"No… no… I just saw her an hour ago, I just kissed her. I promised her I'd be right back… I promised," his voice trailed off till he could say nothing more, he collapsed in a chair, staring at his hands, his body numb. He had just held her only a few hours ago. He had just told her that he loved her.

She couldn't be dead.

He should never have left her.

Life is a funny thing.

How can one thing bring us both heartache and joy? How could Life give us a person with whom we fall madly in love only to rip them away from us? Life was cruel.

"Birch Waters?" Birch looked up to see an elderly nurse standing over him.

"Yeah, that's me," he whispered hoarsely. The woman looked at him with tender eyes.

"This was left on the bed. It's addressed to you. I thought you should have it," the lady said, holding out an envelope to him. He took it, his hands shaking.

"Thank you," he whispered again. The woman nodded.

Running his thumb under the seal he pried the envelope open. The letter nearly caused his heart to stop. It was written in her familiar handwriting, swooping cursive. But some of it was blurring together, tear stains left on the pages.

My Birch,

Don't be mad at me. Please I don't want the last emotion you ever remember feeling towards me to be anger. I'm sorry I sent you away but I couldn't say goodbye. And I didn't want to say goodbye. So I sent you on an errand so that I wouldn't have to. Because I love you too much to ever say goodbye.

So I decided a long time ago that I wouldn't. Maybe I was selfish but I'm the one who's dying after all. Or if you're reading this then I suppose dead. But don't be sad. Well no I shouldn't say that. You can be sad because if it was you I know I would be devastated because I love you so much.

I love you so much that it makes my heart hurt. I never thought I'd feel a love like that. A love so powerful that it hurt.

I only wish that it could have lasted longer.

But I was reading a quote by Emily Dickenson and it said that the loved are unable to die. And I know I am loved by you.

I don't want you to be sad for forever though. Because it was inevitable. We knew going into this that it was a doomed love. But that somehow made it even more special. Because while we were doomed we were all the more beautiful. It was all the more special to me. You gave me a life within my numbered days. You gave me hope within a limited time. And I couldn't ask for anything more that you and your love.

I know that it will be hard and I know you will blame yourself for what happened. But it's not your fault and it never will be. I'm the one who sent you to deliver those letters.

But this letter is the most important one. This is the letter that matters the most to me. Because it's your letter and you are the one person in the world who matters the most to me.

I love you Birch Waters. If I could I would shout it to the world but I can't so I'll have to settle for writing it. This is my last letter to you. The letters will have to stop but the magic, the love, the hope, it all still remains in those words. I meant every single one of them in my heart.

So don't you dare blame yourself which I know you will and probably are doing right now. I want you to go and live for me Birch Waters. I want you to find a girl and love her as much as you loved me. I know that you'll argue with me and protest and say that you could never love anyone as much as you loved me but Birch life throws us curveballs and sometimes we just have to close our eyes and swing. I know that life isn't so cruel as to only let you love once.

Life isn't that cruel. It just has a sense of humor.

You were my forever. You will always be my infinity. You were my rock in my hurricane of troubles.

I love you Birch.

With all of my love,

Hannah Aspen

10 years later

"Are we almost there?" Birch smiled as he looked in his mirror back at the six year old girl who sat in the back seat of his car looking out the window.

"We're almost there pumpkin," he told his daughter as they drove down the gravel road towards a small cemetery. He parked the car and then opened his door and hopped out. He went around and opened the door for his daughter and helped her out. "Do you have the flowers?" He asked.

The little girl nodded and showed the bouquet of ten roses in her hand. "Then let's go. You know the way right?" he asked. The girl smiled and then scampered off into the cemetery, Birch following hot on her heals to make sure that she didn't get into too much trouble like she was known to do.

His daughter had stopped in front of a grave where she was sitting in the grass talking to it as if someone was listening. He smiled as he listened. "Daddy misses you, especially today. He keeps talking about how pretty you were and how much he misses your violet eyes. He says that I look a little like you except I'm going to be a lot taller than you were. I wish that you were still here so that Daddy could be happy."

"Rosie," Birch said, coming up and sitting down beside her. "I am happy, I have you," he said, wrapping his arm around her and drawing her in to a hug.

"But she made you happy too, didn't she," Rose Waters said, studying her dad's face. She hadn't been lying when she had said that she looked similar. She had deep blue eyes that bordered on violet, pretty brown hair which was wild and crazy, and pale skin with a sprinkling of freckles. But she was also different, her cheeks were higher and her nose was a bit bigger and she had a mischievous glint in her eyes.

That's why Birch had fallen in love with Rose when he was at the orphanage. She was both her and him. If they had had a child for some strange reason he felt like they would be just like Rose.

Rose set the bouquet of ten roses on the ground, one for each year, and roses because she always insisted that they bring roses since both of them had the name Rose. Birch reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope and tucked it into the little crevice which had been designed in the side of the grave for this purpose. Already inside were nine other letters.

"Come on Rosie, we've got to get you home now," Birch said standing up, trying to keep from crying in front of his daughter.

"Okay Daddy," Rose said happily as she raced back to the car.

Birch casted one last glance towards the grave and smiled. "I love you Hannah Rose," he whispered. "And I always will."

And somehow he was positive that she heard him.

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

~1 Peter 4:8

Being loved deeply by someone gives you strength

While loving someone deeply gives you courage

~Lao Tzu

End Excerpt

Annabeth couldn't help but tear up a little. But as they say, no tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.

And then the envelope fell into her hands.

She turned to look at Percy a little confused. He made a motion, urging her to open the envelope. She shrugged and did so.

Annabeth Christine Chase,

The other day I was thinking about just how much I hate your name, mainly your last name.

Now before you turn around and judo flip me again, hear me out. There's a reason to my madness. Or at least we should hope there is. If not then I suppose we're both in trouble. But then again we've been in trouble, you and I, for a long time. And that has yet to stop us.

Maybe I am a little mad, but madness is a good thing. Being mad can give you courage and this letter takes a lot of courage to write. I don't know how you do it so much because writing seems to be so much harder than actually talking to someone. I have never been a profound writer. Letters always seemed a tad old fashioned and my handwriting is terrible (as you have witnessed). But letters means a lot to you and me. So I suppose I'll have to borrow your eloquence with words for a little while and hope that it turns out well.

This is my letter to you.

This is my love songto you only it fails to rhyme or even carry a tune.

I love you Annabeth Chase.

I think the problem I find while writing this is that I can't think of any words that can even begin to describe this unfathomable love I have for you. But I'm trying to do so. So with the help of a dictionary and something which Nico has introduced me to and is called a thesaurus, I'm writing this to you.

I have been to hell.

What I have found is that hell is not so much a place that we can reach, a tangible (that was brought to you by the thesaurus) thing. No hell is a thought, it is an obsessionwith the dark. It is an entrapment in a place where we slip through the cracks that bleed black. And we are made for the Light so when we fall through those cracks into oblivion, into hell, we are lost. And it is extremely difficult to ever find our way out again.

It is near impossible.

But somehow I found a small way out, somehow I found a rope that would pull me out. And it was through a letter. A letter which I have kept in a shoebox along with many others like it. A letter which I found in an old book on the Revolutionary War completely by accident. It was a letter by a girl going through hell just like me. But the difference was she refused to give up. She refused to fully fade away out of existence.

Somehow through those letters, she dragged me out of my own personal River Styx. But instead of water like acid, I was drowning in drugs, alcohol, gangs and knives which cut against my skin. But whenever I felt like drowning, I thought of her and I tightened my grip on the chord that tied me to the banks of the river. And so she became my immortality.

I had fallen in love with a girl I had never met, a girl who had ink in her blood and words in her soul.

And when she left, I vowed to live for her. And I did.

Through the years I forgot many of the events that happened around that time, a side effect of the drugs, but I could never forget her.

You cannot forget those whom you love. As you tell me time and time again. "Love is immortality."

Imagine my surprise to discover a story. A story that… that had no words that could begin to skim the surface of its meaning. A story that was so familiar to those letters that once again I fell in love with a girl I couldn't see.

And then to discover that the very writer of my letters was the same girl who inspired so many to keep breathing.

I fell in love with her all over again.

And I fall in love wither her day after day because I know that love knows no boundaries, knows no limits. Annabeth Chase, you are my immortality. I would give the world for you. I would fall into the pits of Tarturus for you, I would hold the sky for you if it meant saving you from harm.

I suppose this is where the eloquence I have stolen from you ends. Because I'm not sure how to write this, but it would be just as hard to say it. But here goes.

I love you.

Three words. But those words are the strongest I know. And I want to tell you those three words every day for the rest of my life. I want to wake up beside you in the morning. I want to hold you in my arms and never let you go. I have met many girls but no one can even compare to you. Even though I'm an idiot at times and I make mistakes (many of which you're more than happy to correct me on) and I know that you're far smarter than me, I know that you are the one for me. You once wrote that there comes a time when you know the person you'll love for the rest of your life. You write about love a lot, about how love is a fire, love is passion. That is how I feel around you, I feel consumed in love. And yet to love is to be vulnerable. And I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve right now. I'm telling you exactly how I feel.

I love you.

My world is smaller now because you are my world. And yet it is no less important. If anything it is more important.

I love you.

And please tell me you feel the same.

Your Seaweed Brain,

~Percy Jackson

Post Script- I hate your last name because it should be Jackson, not Chase.

Words for the Wise: The correct answer is Yes.

Annabeth's eyes were wide open and she was trying to keep back the tears. She turned around to talk to Percy when she saw him on his knees. Her legs nearly gave out.

"Oh my gods," she said to herself, almost so quiet that Percy couldn't hear but he did and he grinned. She raised her hands to her mouth, trying to keep from hyperventilating. "Oh my gods, oh my gods," she repeated.

"Annabeth Chase will you marry me?" Percy asked.