Title: No Promises (Part II)
Word Count: 23,841
Author's Note: in hindsight this one shot is not that great but ! It took a long ass time to write so !

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Percy had begun devising a plan, looking for windows, or a parking lot entrance, or maybe some kind of distraction to get them inside. Annabeth walked right through the front doors.

"That works too, I guess," he mumbled to himself. Annabeth rolled her eyes at his exaggeration, but part of her wanted to smile at his stupidity; it was back.

Walking into the lobby, Annabeth noticed a sign beside velvet ropes leading to a room at the far end of the lobby.

Anderson / Peters Party

A wedding party. Perfect.

"Just found our way in," Annabeth nodded to the sign, and Percy followed her line of sight, nodding in understanding.

"Hi, can I help you?" One of the hotel check-in attendants was suddenly standing before them, blocking them from making it anywhere. "Do you need to find a bus stop, or a shelter...?" he asked with condescending concern.

If there was anything Annabeth hated, it was being talked down to. She was going to make this guy wish he had never opened his mouth. Sure they looked raggedy and beat up, and their clothes weren't the cleanest, but they were doing pretty damn well considering they ran for their lives almost every day.

"We're actually here for the Anderson/Peters reception," she said with a sickly sweet smile.

The steward's face contorted into what looked like an attempt to mask a grimace with a smile. "Well, we have a strict dress code policy here, and we don't tend to let the... riff raff in. So, nice try but it's not going to happen," he said smugly, a hint of disdain in his voice. Then, he ushered them towards the door.

"Hey!" Annabeth protested when she felt a hand on her back.

"Hands off!" Percy barked at him, grabbing his wrist—with one quick twist, he could snap it and send this guy crying. Annabeth appreciated that he was protective over her; but that was nothing new.

Suddenly the steward wasn't so brave. "I'll get security!" he threatened, his voice squeaky.

Percy let him go with a final, threatening glare. Then the steward hurried away, back to the front desk. "Someone should pull the stick out of his ass," Percy mumbled.

"If you hold his arms, it'd be my pleasure," she agreed. He glanced over at her, a small smile on his face. She found her expression to match his, but she quickly looked away, clearing her throat. Butterfly wings tickled up her spine. "Alright. Time to meet their dress code."

"How?" Percy asked.

"I have my dress..." she trailed off, looking around the room.

"Okay, but what about me?"

Then something caught her eye; it was exactly what she needed. "Bingo," she said, and Percy followed her gaze to where a staff member was wheeling a rack of suits and other clothes covered in plastic from a door behind the front desk.

"I'll distract everyone at the front desk, you slip back there and get the clothes," Percy said.

"Alright, but how are you gonna distract them?"

"Don't worry about that; just get those clothes," he assured her, but the smirk on his face was anything but reassuring.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Don't do anything too stupid, got it?"

"Who, me?" he joked.

"Dumbass." Then Annabeth walked off towards the front desk, Percy moving towards the doors. She waited until she saw the steward who Percy almost beat the shit out of step out from behind the desk and walk to the elevators. She quickly and quietly walked across the lobby and over to where they kept the clothes racks. Looking back to Percy, she nodded.

"Oh my god, my heart!" he screamed. That grabbed everyone's attention. All eyes were on Percy as he dramatically flailed and clutched his heart. "Help me, please! I— I need help, everyone!" he shouted.

The staff behind the front desk all immediately ran to him as they exchanged confused looks, while it seemed that the guests didn't know whether to help or run in fear. Annabeth took her chance while the area was vacant, slipping into the back room.

All neatly pressed and ready to be delivered to their owners, suits, ties, and button downs hung on a rack. She grabbed a suit that looked to be about Percy's size and checked for anything else they might need. Walking back out to the front desk, Annabeth could still hear Percy screaming. He was on the floor now, people crowding around him.

"Someone call an ambulance!" someone shouted.

"NO!" Percy interrupted. "I—I... I have a fear of... o-of sirens!" he decided, throwing in some more groans for emphasis. Annabeth was stifling her laughs when she noticed an abandoned, open purse on the desk. She mumbled a sorry to whoever the owner was as she stole a makeup case from inside. Then she quietly walked back across the lobby towards the bathrooms, catching Percy's eye and giving him a thumbs up.

"Oh," he said, suddenly calmer. "Suddenly I feel much better." He stood and brushed himself off. Everyone stared at him, utterly confused. "I appreciate it guys," he said with his stupid smirk, then sauntered off, perfectly fine. He speed walked to the bathroom before the terribly flummoxed guests and staff could come to their senses, get angry, and go after him.

Percy followed closely behind Annabeth into the bathroom, slipping inside quickly. After closing and locking the door, he turned to her, and she had to stifle a laugh.

"That's your idea of a distraction?"

"It worked, did it not?"

"You are such an idiot," she snickered.

Percy feigned an offended look. "I have not the slightest clue as to what you're talking about, I poured my heart and soul into that performance!"

Annabeth laughed for real this time and Percy grinned at her when he was finished with his charade. Looking back to him, they locked eyes. In that moment, things almost felt like they used to; like they should. But things wouldn't go back to how they had been; her stupid heart had made sure of that. She cleared her throat and got back to the clothes.

"Here." She handed Percy his suit and opened the changing table, placing down her things.

"Uh, one problem," he started. "Where am I supposed to change?"

That was when Annabeth realized there wasn't a stall in the bathroom. How had she not noticed that before? God, she was so off lately, what was wrong with her? She sighed.

"Of fucking course. Unfortunately for everyone, we have two options: I can turn around and shut my eyes, or go back out there and risk getting mobbed by angry hotel attendants."

Percy flushed red when he realized that their only real option was the former. No words were spoken as Annabeth turned towards the wall, shutting her eyes tight. Suddenly, the thought of Percy popped into her head—Percy without clothes. She mentally scolded herself and tried to rid her mind of the image as quickly as it had formed. Things were so awkward between them, how could she even think about that? Her brain was clearly not doing her any favors at the moment. If only she could shut it off.

Annabeth listened to the sounds of Percy's shuffling and the ruffling of the clothes, trying to shut out every thought she could possibly have. The tension between them seemed to swell until it filled the entire bathroom, and it was close to suffocating them both. She tried to think of ways to deflate it, to ease the traction. The first thought she had was to be mean to Percy, but she would need an opener for that, and she couldn't think of something to comment on.

Just then, he decided to break the ice for her.

"I know it's pretty tempting, Chase, but you better not be peeking."

Annabeth scoffed. "Looking at you with clothes on is hard enough. Clothes off?" She faked a shudder.

"Oh please, you can't even hide your desire for this godlike body." Annabeth could practically hear the smirk on his face.

"Oh, actually, this reminds me. I've been meaning to thank you—you're the prime example of what not to expect when meeting a god," she snarked. It was so easy to bantar with Percy. It was like a game of ping pong they had been playing for years, the sarcasm came so naturally. Suddenly Annabeth started to remember why she had liked this kid in the first place.

"The gods actually called me. They said that they felt so bad for you that they sent me to save you."

"Then they'd be surprised to see that you can barely even save your own ass—I have to do it most of the time."

"I let you save me so you can feel like you have some kind of control. Now I'm thinking all that self-esteem building was a mistake."

Annabeth laughed scornfully. "Coming from Mr. Ego himself? No one's got a bigger head than you."

"I will have you know my head is perfectly sized, thank you very much."

Annabeth rolled her eyes, although a smile remained on her lips. "Are you done yet?"

"Take your chances and turn around," he replied.
She laughed and shook her head, turning to face him. He was standing in a tux, which fit him surprisingly decently, considering it wasn't his. The top button of his shirt was undone and he held a tie in his hand, smirking at her. That smirk gave her butterflies. So this is what I'm supposed to be feeling, she thought to herself. Her eyes trailed down his body as nonchalantly as she could, hoping her cheeks weren't flushed. When she reached his shoes, she noticed his Converse and chuckled.

"I think the shoes are a nice touch," he joked, shrugging his shoulders.

Annabeth nodded. "Agreed."

Percy laughed. "Do you, by any chance, know how to tie a tie?"

"Of course you need help, Jackass." She took a step closer to him, taking the tie. She threw it around his neck and began to tie it, looking anywhere but in Percy's eyes. She focused intently on the fabric in her hands.

"How do you know how to do it?"

Annabeth let out a sigh. "My dad used to get up for work in the mornings really early, and he didn't always know, but I woke up early like him. I had always wanted to be like him, at least before Helen came around. I would watch him stand in front of the mirror and tie his tie, almost every morning. I guess I just picked up how to do it from seeing it so much. Sometimes, after he left, I'd take one of his ties and try to do it, although I only ever got it once or twice. I'm not really sure why or how my brain kept those memories, but... they're coming in handy now, I guess," she explained, the words simply flowing out of her, almost absentmindedly.

She finished tying the tie and ran her hands over the lapels of his jacket, lingering in the lack of space between them. Part of her didn't want to step back, but she did, trying to clear through the fuzz in her head.

"Thanks, Wiseass," Percy said gently, giving her a soft smile. She simply nodded. "I can wait outside if you want," he offered.

"Ever the gentleman," she said, semi-teasingly. "But I have a feeling there are still some confused guests and most likely our new friend gathered outside. Just turn around," she said. He obliged, turning and staring at the wall. Annabeth realized that, although the points she had made were true, she didn't want Percy to leave the bathroom. It wasn't in a sexual way, she just... didn't want to be out of his company at the moment. It was the first time they had joked around in days and she was afraid that it would be gone the second they walked out. They'd be back to awkwardness, tension, and her humiliation. She pulled her dress out of her backpack and began stripping down.

"Just because I don't necessarily hate you anymore doesn't mean I won't hurt you. Pull anything, and I'll gut you like a fish, Jackson," she threatened.

"Believe me, I know—you'll wear a smile as you do it, too."

Annabeth smirked. "The last beautiful face you'll ever see." She pulled off her pants, leaving her in nothing but her bra, underwear, and socks. She wasn't sure if it was a bad thing or a good thing that she wasn't uncomfortable. She decided not to dwell as she pulled on the dress.

The silver fabric slid easily over her skin as she slinked it on. Being back in that dress made her feel like a princess. It fit like a glove, just like the last time she had had it on. Looking in the mirror, she adjusted the fabric slightly as needed, but she couldn't get enough of her reflection. She didn't think she had ever felt so beautiful in her life.

"You can turn around," she said.

Percy turned and Annabeth pretended not to notice how he blanched, ever so slightly. She tried not to look at him as she picked up her other shoe, pulling it on and, as the slit in her dress allowed her to, leaning her foot against the sink, tying the laces.

"Nice touch," he said, a grin on his face.

She smirked at him. "Now I just have to figure out some of this makeup thing," she said, holding up the bag she had... borrowed from someone.

"You think you can give me a little makeover?" he joked.

Annabeth faked a grimace. "Nothing could fix that, hate to break it to you."

Percy held a hand to his chest and winced. "That one hurt, Chase."

Annabeth laughed at him, turning back to the mirror. She opened the bag and only recognized a few things. While other girls her age were probably learning how to apply makeup and buying clothes to be prettier, Annabeth was busy fighting monsters and living her life day by day on the streets of America. If that wasn't the teenage dream, she didn't know what was.

She was able to figure out mascara, although she stayed away from the eyelash curler—that seemed a little too advanced for her. She found a small, circular palette with what she hoped was eyeshadow. She applied the shimmery dusty-rose color to her eyelids with her fingers. She was able to brush on some blush and paint on a bit of red lipstick. She rubbed her lips together in the mirror when she was done, combing her hands through her hair—which she had let down—in an attempt to tame the wild mane.

"How do I look?" she asked, checking her reflection. It was a genuine question, although the look on Percy's face told her she might not get a genuine answer. His mouth fell open slightly like a trout and he couldn't seem to say much of anything. "That bad, huh?" Her face and spirits fell at his reaction. He clearly didn't know how to tell her she looked overdone.

"No, no, no!" he rushed out, waving his hands out for emphasis. "You look... gorgeous." He shook his head. "Way too old for me," he added quietly.

Annabeth swallowed and tried not to blush as she stared down. "You really think so?" She had to be honest—hearing Percy compliment her like that sent bunnies running through her stomach, their little feet tickling her and their steps like sparks of warmth. He nodded. "Thanks." There was a pause as Percy rocked on his heels with his hands in his pockets. "Oh, come here."

Percy stepped to the sink. Annabeth turned on the water and splashed her hands in it for a second. She began running her hands through his crazy hair in an attempt to style it in some way.

"Yeah, that's not gonna work," Percy said, letting her try it anyway. "I think you'd know by now that this," he wagged a finger at his hair, "Can't be fixed."

"It hasn't met its match yet, but I think I'm just as stubborn and determined as your hair," she reasoned.

Percy chuckled and shrugged. "Fair point. I mean, it used to drive my mom crazy—ow—" Annabeth tugged a little harder at one particularly wayward strand. She let him talk as she continued her makeover.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," he replied, then went back to talking without skipping a beat. "My mom used to try everything when I was little, and nothing ever worked. I just think, especially with only water, it's—Oh wow." Percy looked at his reflection, seeing that Annabeth had in fact been able to pull his hair into a neater style, swept back and in place. "How did you—"

"Magic," she answered. "Wow, who knew you clean up nice, huh?"

"Thanks," he snarked. She laughed at him. "You know what, we look... not homeless right now, it's pretty cool." They laughed together now as they examined their reflection. It was interesting how a little dressing up could make them look so much older. They went from almost sixteen to at least nineteen. It felt a little strange—would they even know each other when they were nineteen? Would they stay friends if they reached Camp Halfblood?

Annabeth hadn't thought about that before that moment. She was sure that the survival rate of their friendship was a lot greater before she had kissed Percy. Now, she was certain he was only hanging around because he had to; if they weren't on an epic trek across the country to New York, he would've been long gone by then. And, once again, someone she cared about would be leaving her.

It was there in that hotel bathroom that Annabeth had one of the most terrifying realizations she had ever had; she needed Percy.

Before she could spiral any further, Percy's words pulled her out of her own mind.

"Annabeth?"

"Oh, yeah," she agreed, shaking her head to snap out of it. "We should do this more often." She blinked a few times and tousled her hair a bit, fixing it how she wanted (or really, how much it allowed her to). "Alright." She internally yelled at herself to act normal. If she didn't pull it together, Percy was gonna catch on, although she had a feeling he already was. He had just come to be able to read her like that.

"You ready?" Percy asked. They gathered their things.

"I think the mob's died down," Annabeth teased. "Let's go."

They left the bathroom and walked back into the lobby, Annabeth placing the makeup bag on a nearby bench, saying a silent thanks to whoever it belonged to. They stashed their backpacks in a supply closet off in the corner. Being as nonchalant as possible, they made their way to the Anderson/Peters room.

Percy slightly oversold the whole 'nonchalant' thing by whistling.

"Cut it out," Annabeth hissed. He stopped. Suddenly, her fears about leaving the bathroom were coming true. She could feel the slight awkwardness seeping back in and her heart sighed—she was tired of the back and forth. There wasn't a waking second that she hadn't wished she could just take back the stupid kiss. She had ruined everything. She repressed a sigh as they continued walking, forcing her head clear.

"So do you have any idea what it is exactly that we're fighting in here?" Percy asked, his voice low as they continued walking.

"I imagine something almost as ugly as you," she snarked, ignoring Percy's scoff. Annabeth's eyes scanned the room as they walked inside. The ballroom was one of the most enormous rooms she had ever been in. Waiters and staff rushed around, dressing tables and shuffling chairs, presumably adding the final touches. The theme seemed to be pink, or flowers, or maybe pink flowers—Annabeth wasn't entirely sure, but it was nothing exciting—not something she would have picked.

Annabeth had never really thought about weddings; she had only ever been to one and it was in the running to be one of the worst days of her life. Aside from that, she never thought she'd make it to sixteen, let alone old enough to get married. So it had never been something she considered.

At the far side of the room, huge windows scaled from the floor and reached up high almost to the ceiling. The view peered out over the Saint Lawrence River, the water and city sprawling out behind the glass. At either side of the room, grand staircases trailed up to a balcony, which sat above the windows, providing a walkway inside as the rest reached out over the river. She had to say, the design of the room was incredible and meticulously ornate—every detail was carefully crafted, down to the sconces.

"Hey, it's not bad in here," Percy muttered to himself. "Nice," he added, Annabeth following his nod to a buffet further down the room. Annabeth rolled her eyes, although her stomach grumbled in agreement with Percy. She suddenly remembered she hadn't really eaten anything substantial in the past twelve hours. Trying to ignore her hunger, Annabeth told herself it would have to wait.

"If it's still there after we do what we have to, you can have food. For now, we have a demigod to save." She led them across the room and out of the center where attention would be on them. Suddenly the waiters all rushed out, disappearing into the kitchen or to corners of the room. It wasn't long before guests began to flood in, place cards in hand and dressed to the nines. Waiting for the room to fill, Annabeth briefed Percy.

"Listen to me," she started quietly, and he leaned closer to her as they both gazed out at the party. "This has to go as smoothly as possible. There's a lot of guests here and it's our responsibility that they don't get hurt. Just follow my lead and don't do anything stupid, understand?"

"Yeah, I'm not a child, Annabeth, I know this is serious," he answered, an underlying bite to his voice.

Annabeth felt an anger rising in her chest, like an impending storm. She tried to keep it at bay, but there was just something about what he had said that got under her skin deeper than usual. "Then act like it," she snapped.

His eyes flashed to hers, bright with offense. "Fine." His voice was final and hot with anger. Annabeth looked back out at the crowd, suddenly not being able to look Percy in his disgruntled face. Watching all those people flood in, she realized she had no real way other than her intuition to tell who the demigod was.

As far as the monster went, Annabeth already had eyes set on one burly elderly woman just settling into a table. She had always been able to find monsters in a crowd—it was a skill she had learned quickly as a child, and it only got stronger as she got older. The woman was wearing a baby blue pantsuit, paired with an awful pink hat with horribly loud orange feathers. She reminded Annabeth of a crocodile for reasons unknown to her, although her leathery, wrinkled skin could have been a start. The woman didn't notice Annabeth, and for that she was glad.
She didn't really want to speak to Percy, but she knew she had to. Here they were, needing to work together as a team but indignantly pissed off with each other—perfect. "1 o'clock," she muttered to him.

Percy listened, focusing his gaze to the right of the room. "What do you think she is?"

"I'm still not sure, but certainly nothing small." There was the looming presence of a monster in the room, but it was so... strong. Something was telling her that this fight was going to be bigger than she thought, but she just couldn't place why.

Annabeth scanned the room again, desperately searching for this demigod. She wished there was some kind of radar pinging off the kid's head, but nothing could ever be easy. "Any leads on our guest?" she asked. She didn't know why, but Annabeth had decided it was better not to say anything actually related to their situation.

"8 o'clock, by the door," Percy answered. "Dark blue dress."

Annabeth brought her gaze to Percy's directions. She spotted the little girl sitting at a table, a dreadful expression propped up on a little hand. Annabeth was about to ask how he knew, but when she looked at the girl, she could just tell; there was an energy about her that no one else had, even as she grumpily sat at a wedding she clearly didn't want to be attending. Whatever adult was with her must have been mingling because she sat alone, even away from the other kids.

Her curly, caramel hair was held back by a headband adorned with a white flower. She was so young—she couldn't have been more than seven or eight. Annabeth's heart lurched into her throat. This little girl probably had no idea what was after, not even the wisps of the thought of the horrible world out to get her. She needed to be protected and in that moment, Annabeth silently promised herself she would do whatever she had to to keep that little girl safe.

Suddenly, a little boy, no more than five, sat up from somewhere Annabeth hadn't previously seen. Knowing children, he was probably underneath the table. He came up wearing a goofy grin, looking at the girl. She finally grinned back, and it was clear that they were siblings. Their complexions, their eyes, even their hair were similar. If it weren't for the age difference, they could be mistaken for twins. He was in a little blue dress shirt, matching his sister, and Annabeth would be lying if she said they didn't look adorable. If only adorableness could be monster repellent.

"Surprise," Annabeth muttered back, "two for the price of one."

Percy glanced over and sighed with a bitter chuckle. "Of course." They both continued to scope out the scene, keeping a keen eye on the demigods. "The monster's got eyes on our guests," he said suddenly. Then he was pulling his sword from his pocket and getting ready to advance.

Annabeth grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?" she hissed. "You can't just go and kill it. We need to get them to safety first. Then we lead the monster away from all the people it could kill," Annabeth explained angrily.

"We don't have a lot of time here, Annabeth, the monster's already on the move," Percy protested, pointing to the large woman as she began to weave through people, heading straight for the little ones. Percy was partly right, but they still needed a plan.

Of course, that idea went to shit as Percy began walking hurriedly in the monster's direction. Annabeth didn't know how, but it felt like she was everywhere—her presence was so imposing it was lining the walls of the room, ready to close in on everyone. She tried to shake the intense feeling of being watched and ran after Percy.

There were too many guests to move through and the monster was wading across the room too quickly, her feathered hat rising above the sea of heads. Annabeth's entire body grew tense as she pushed through guests, desperately trying to get to the children faster. Please, please, please she begged whatever deity could hear her. The woman was almost to the demigods—Percy wasn't making enough progress.

Annabeth stopped for a moment, searching around. That was when she realized she had no choice. As music began playing, she hoped it would be cover enough to distract the people from what she was about to do. She stepped up on a chair and began jumping from one table to the next. She barely heard Percy call out her name. Now, it was a race against this monster, who had just caught sight of Annabeth and, with a snarl, was picking up the pace.

Annabeth wanted to scream, something to get the little kids' attention. She wished she knew their names. She was finally nearing them, only a table away, but the only thing standing between the monster and the demigods were a few chairs and two conversing guests. The little ones continued to sit, laughing with each other, unaware. Annabeth was almost there, just pushing past one more person—
The monster lunged.

Annabeth sprinted, grabbing the kids from their chairs and pulling the little boy from the monster's claws just in time. The little girl screamed, and Annabeth was surprised that her own wail didn't escape. Her heart was racing in her chest and adrenaline coursed through her veins, powering every movement. The kids didn't say anything.

Instead, it seemed that they had realized it was not an old woman after them. In fact, even the facade of a woman was gone, leaving a monster Annabeth had only ever read about standing before her: Echidna.
Where the burly woman had stood, a twenty-foot-long scaly snake tail began to elongate, coiling and slithering, leading up to the torso of a woman, all topped with a vicious snarl surrounded by matted hair and gaunt, olive skin. A forked tongue snapped out between wickedly jagged teeth as she hissed at them. Her chartreuse eyes seemed to be telling Annabeth's future: it was a very short one, which ended with her violent death in about thirty seconds.

"I knew I sssmelled sssomething ssstronger," Echidna hissed as a jagged scar of a smile pulled across her face, her voice raspy and unsettling. The sound seemed to crawl under her skin and make her itch.

The little boy was crying in Annabeth's arms, clinging desperately to her dress, her arms, anything he could grab, while his sister sat behind her, clinging to her shoulders. Annabeth raked her mind for a plan, as if she was flipping through a book fifty pages a second. But she couldn't think of anything. With Echidna so close to them, she couldn't count on running. The only thing she had left was her wit—but she'd be damned if she went out without at least trying.

"Surprised you could smell anything over your own stench," Annabeth retorted.

Echidna snarled. "How dare you, girl! Jussst for that, I'm going to kill you extra ssslowly," she threatened, inching ever closer. How Annabeth was able to scoot back with this child sitting in her lap and another behind her, she didn't know, but she decided to chalk it up to adrenaline and keep moving.

Annabeth laughed the most scornful laugh she could muster. "If you do, could you take out my eyes first? I mean, having to look at you is the worst part." She needed to keep talking, just enough for her to get close to a table. She was almost there.

"You gremlin!" Echidna shouted. "Your blood will be the sssweetest I've ever tasssted—I'll be sssure to eat the little onesss firssst," she spat, reaching out with clawed-fingers. The boy let out a loud cry at that, holding Annabeth tighter. She glanced around as much as she could without losing sight of the monster. Just a little further, she thought.

"Hold on," Annabeth whispered to them. They probably couldn't hear her over their crying, but it was instinctual. She was going to get them out of this. She had to.

"Why are you ssstill trying to get away? Isssn't it obviousss that you're going to die? Mussst be ssstupider than I thought!" Echidna threw her head back and cackled, letting out a noise like the raspy yowls of ten hyenas. While she was distracted, Annabeth moved as quickly as she could, picking the little boy up off her lap and pushing him underneath the table, his sister crawling under with him. Thankfully, they understood the situation and stopped crying—although Annabeth had to pray Echidna wouldn't hear their little sniffles. By the time Echidna refocused on Annabeth, her lap was empty and the kids were gone.

"WHAT?!" Suddenly Echidna's eyes popped out of her head.

"Am I still as stupid as you thought?" Annabeth mocked, trying to subtly shift her weight and ready herself to stand up. But she had a feeling that the second she did, Echidna's claws would take her head clean off.

"Gah! No matter. I'll tear thisss whole building down to find her—after I kill you!"

Echidna readied herself to lunge, and Annabeth was trapped. She didn't dare close her eyes or flinch; Echidna would not have the satisfaction of Annabeth's fear on top of her death.

"Hey, ugly!"

Percy's voice seemed to boom throughout the ballroom, rising above the loud music. A wave of relief washed over Annabeth when Echidna whipped around to look at him.

"Another?! Oh, I will be feasssting tonight!" Echidna exclaimed.

Annabeth could finally see him. Percy was standing up on a table, wielding Riptide in his suit and tie—it was quite the spectacle. Her heart boomed in her chest, though she blamed it on the adrenaline. His spunky expression was made of stone, but when he and Annabeth met gazes, his eyes shifted ever so slightly, and she recognized what she saw—worry. She gave a small nod, trying to reassure him—keep talking, she conveyed. He understood.

Percy tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. "Only if you can catch me first," he taunted. "And, from what I've heard, hideous snake tails can be a real hindrance."

"Hideousss!?" Echidna gasped. "I will kill you for your disssrespect!" She quickly began slithering towards Percy, moving surprisingly quickly for being weighed down by a several-hundred-pound tail.

Finally, Annabeth had an opening. Taking her chance, she quickly rolled to the side, out of Echidna's line of fire. She was quick to her feet, now pushing through people to make her way to Percy, who was dancing around on the table. Annabeth could only imagine what the mortals were seeing.

She had discovered that they saw a veiled reality—one without all the ancient Greek monsters and children with swords. All the while, Annabeth's eyes stayed on the table where she hid the demigods. Echidna was further past it now, but Annabeth couldn't count that she wouldn't double back.

Percy jumped down from the table when Annabeth was close. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine. We have to get the kids out of here—Echidna's not a monster to fuck around with," Annabeth explained hurriedly.

"A-kid-what?" Percy's face contorted in confusion. They continued pushing through people.

"The giant snake lady!" Annabeth yelled. "Now is not the time to ask stupid questions. They're under table 56. You get them out, I'll distract Echidna."

"But then Echidna kills you," he protested, his walking ceasing.

"That's not important," she argued, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. Echidna was gaining on them now—they needed a better plan. If only Annabeth had time to think.

"Annabeth, yes it—"

"Listen to me," she started, gravely serious. "You get those kids out of here and to safety. No matter what happens," Annabeth's eyes bore into Percy's—it was the most intense eye contact she had probably ever held with someone. She needed him to understand how important it was that they get them out safely. "Promise me you'll protect them."

His irises churned with adrenaline and sadness. He was reluctant, but he knew he had to obey her. "I promise."

"Now go." Annabeth pushed him to the left as she went right.

With one last lingering glance, his green eyes full of determination and sparks of anger, Percy disappeared into the crowd.

"Hey!" Annabeth shouted, waving her dagger in the air. "Over here, ugly!" Echidna's eyes landed on Annabeth's, her gaze deepening and hardening, growing fiery with rage. She began racing towards Annabeth, and that was when Annabeth realized she didn't know where she was going. Looking over, she remembered the stairs. Maybe if she could get Echidna up to the balcony... The plan was already forming in her head. With seconds to spare, Annabeth continued running, bounding for the staircase.

It seemed that mortals were also slightly catching onto the scene—they weren't screaming and fleeing in fear (yet), but they were exchanging odd looks and worried glances. The sea of people began to part for Echidna, and Annabeth cursed them all—would've been useful if you did that for me, she thought.

"Come on, you big slug!" Annabeth was really lacking in snake-related insults—hey, it was hard to run for your life, formulate a plan, and scream clever obscenities at a giant snake lady all at once. Annabeth was roughly halfway up the staircase. There were a lot less stairs when she was looking up from the floor. Echidna was now just reaching the bottom, and she was moving fast, beginning to slither up after her.

She had to admit; being chased by Echidna up the stairs was one of the most disturbing experiences she'd ever had—why can a snake move so quickly up stairs? Annabeth turned and continued running, now taking three stairs at a time. Somehow, her dress hadn't ripped and she hadn't slipped on it either, and for that, at least, she was thankful.

Waving her hands, she yelled once more, although she was losing breath. "Come and get me, bitch!" It was the best she could do. Finally, she reached the top, stepping out onto the balcony. Being up there was a lot scarier than she had thought it would be—Annabeth wasn't afraid of heights, but suddenly, looking out over the edge, which dropped off straight down into the Saint Lawrence River, she realized this idea may have been significantly more dangerous for her than she thought. Still, she refused to give Echidna the satisfaction of her fear. Annabeth's face remained stoic and determined as Echidna's scaly body finally reared onto the balcony.

"HA!" she cackled, her voice ringing despite the open space. The wind was whipping now, and despite what had started as a beautiful day, the clouds were now beginning to crawl across the sun, the light disappearing and leaving behind a dreary grey sky. Of course, Annabeth thought, cursing the gods. Nice way to set the mood, assholes.

"You really are ssstupid!" Echidna's wicked grin was back. "It'll be sssuch a lovely ssscene watching you tumble to your death!"

Annabeth let out a sardonically scornful laugh. "You know what they say, Echidna—the bigger they are, the harder they fall." She twirled her dagger in her hand skillfully, getting ready to fight with a tight grip on the hilt. Masking her fear was the easy part of this all. In the back of Annabeth's mind, she was focused on Percy—hoping that he got them out and to safety. She hoped he was okay. Quelling her thoughts of concern about the other demigods, she reminded herself to focus on the task at hand: the giant snake lady before her and the balcony edge behind her.
She needed to get Echidna close to the edge. "Well, if it's gonna be so nice to kill me, get on with it!" Annabeth taunted.

Echidna threw her head back and let loose a raspy laugh, a noise that scraped through her ears like nails on a chalkboard. "Be careful what you wisssh for, girl!" Echidna charged at Annabeth, clawed fingers reaching out toward her. At the last second, Annabeth jumped from her grasp and rolled to the side. Echidna was closer to the edge now, but not close enough. Her tail whipped around her as she lost her balance, wrecking a hole in the granite railing along the edge of the balcony. Annabeth saw that as both an advantage and disadvantage—it was all about her position. She needed to be in the right place, which, at the moment, she was not.

With her back to the railing, much closer to the edge than she wanted to be, Annabeth tried to think of what to do next. Despite the fact that she would be pushing Echidna back, it seemed that Annabeth was going to have to play some offense. Annabeth readied her dagger, her grip on the hilt so tight her knuckles were almost white. Her breathing slowed to a relaxed pace as she tried to calm herself; she needed to be calm. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, somehow helping her think clearly. With one last prayer, she charged.

As Echidna swiped down with her claws, Annabeth brought up her dagger, the blade cutting off Echidna's scaly fingers. Blood so dark that it was almost black covered Annabeth's blade and dripped onto the floor as the monster screamed out in pain.

Despite her severed fingers, Echidna continued fighting. She swung with her other hand and Annabeth ducked, quickly dodging the snake tail trying to grab at her ankles. She pulled back, remembering her plan to get Echidna close to the edge.

Luckily, Echidna followed just as Annabeth wanted. She lunged forward, the end of her tail snapping out at Annabeth. She grabbed it before it could hit her face, but winced as Echidna pulled back. Her scales were much sharper than Annabeth had anticipated, and now, as searing pain rippled throughout her hand, blood dripped between her fingers from deep gashes in her palm. Her hand was throbbing and she hoped it was her eyes playing tricks on her, but the skin was beginning to turn pale and almost green.
Cursing under her breath, Annabeth remembered that she needed to keep fighting—you always keep fighting. She still had one good hand, and that was enough.

Echidna cackled mockingly. "Real sssmart, girl!" She surged forward. Annabeth parried and rolled to the side, slicing through Echidna's body just beneath her ribs. Did giant snake women have ribs? Echidna let out a yowl before she turned to face Annabeth again. She was getting closer and closer to the edge as she followed Annabeth, but she still wasn't close enough.

It was an endless game of back and forth, and Annabeth's adrenaline could only last her so long.
She began running in and out of Echidna's now tangled tail. If she could confuse her, she'd have a small leg up.

"Get back here!" Echidna hissed. Annabeth continued to run back and forth, digging her dagger into the scales whenever she could. By the time she stopped running, landing toward the edge of the balcony, Echidna's tail was cut and gashed all the way down, leaving a wake of blood as she slithered. It was a good amount of damage to have done, but somehow Echidna was still slithering after Annabeth.

Realizing that they were almost headed down the stairs, Annabeth ran back to the edge. But when Echidna lunged, Annabeth couldn't move fast enough, her claws getting Annabeth by a hair. It was the smallest amount of contact, but even then Echidna's claws were able to rip Annabeth's arm nearly open, gashes bleeding profusely. Annabeth let out a scream as she stumbled, hitting the ground with a thud and rolling out to the railing.

Clutching her arm, desperately trying to stop the pulsating pain tearing through her muscles like fire, Annabeth tried to fight the spots dancing around her vision, blinking and groaning, but it was no use. She tried to reach back for the railing, but that was when she realized there was nothing there.

Annabeth, barely holding herself up, was now hanging over the open water of the Saint Lawrence River. The distance to the shifting emerald waters suddenly became much more real, and Annabeth's vision seemed to be zooming in and out, giving her vertigo.

Lifting her head, Annabeth immediately felt the blood rush back down through her body and her consciousness waned. It took everything in her not to drop her head back, although there would be nothing there to catch it—nothing but 400 hundred feet of open air before the fateful smack of hitting the river. Using all her strength and fighting the darkness seeping into the perimeter of her sight, Annabeth noticed Echidna coming towards her. She was saying something, but all Annabeth heard was a faint ringing sound. Everything was cloudy suddenly, like they were much higher up in the atmosphere than before. In fact, the air was getting thinner, and it was becoming harder for her to breathe.

Annabeth knew she should move—she should run, crawl, anything to get away from the edge. But she couldn't. She willed herself up but her limbs wouldn't move. Every nerve in her body was on fire, yet she was paralyzed and numb all at the same time. Reality was becoming slippery, like her lens on life was blurred and she couldn't get it back into focus. Her head lolled back, hanging over the cracked granite. At least she would die with a view. The wisps of the idea of poison plagued her mind, though she couldn't remember why.

Suddenly, a weight began sliding over Annabeth, something large and scaly... a tail. In her delirium, it was almost a comforting feeling. But then, Echidna was leaning over Annabeth, her vicious grin showing nothing but malice, and a chill returned to her bones. Come on, she thought, desperately urging herself, but her mind just wasn't working, moving slower. Maybe it was the poison, or the excruciating throbbing in her arm and hand, or the hopelessness of it all. She couldn't be sure.

Finally, Echidna was close enough that Annabeth could make out what she was saying through the sounds of rushing water, traffic, wind, and buzzing.
"I can't wait to hear the sssplat as your body hitsss the water!" she sneered, a murderous look in her chartreuse eyes. Her tail began pressing further against Annabeth, and that was when she realized that somehow, she was moving farther back and over the edge.

"N-no..." Annabeth tried to speak, but it came out in a meek groan.

A low cackle reverberated in Echidna's throat, slowly growing louder until it poured over Annabeth like gravel. "Yesss! Ahah, HAHAHA— OOMPH!—" Echidna's laughter was cut short abruptly. The weight of her tail began to shift, becoming lighter on Annabeth. Blinking in confusion, she noticed the sword plunged in Echidna's side.

The celestial bronze blade glowed, almost shining through Echidna's dark scales. Blood began to ooze out, and Annabeth was too distracted by the relief flooding her mind and body to care that it dripped on her. Echidna fell back, taking her tail with her and leaving Annabeth dangling over the edge.

"ANNABETH!" A scream ripped through the air as she began to slip over the edge, the weight of her torso pulling her legs with it. She recognized the scream as Percy's. Percy... Percy... Annabeth thought in a daze. I miss Percy. Her last thought as she slipped over the edge was that she hoped he was okay.

But then, a hand gripping hers.

"I got you."

Looking up, Annabeth realized she wasn't falling; she was dangling. And she had never been so glad to be dangling in her entire life. Percy's distressed face was peeking over the edge, his hand gripping hers with iron strength. She looked into his eyes; she saw anger, fear, regret, all churning in his irises like the waters below. But most of all, she saw his courage. She saw his strength. Suddenly, her mind cleared. She could focus on things. However, with this coming to full consciousness, she realized Percy was gripping her bad hand, and it hurt like hell. The pressure sent licks of flames up her arm, like small blades tearing through her tendons. She wanted to scream and let go, to free herself of that excruciating pain. It was almost unbearable. Still, he didn't let her go, and she didn't dare loosen her grip.

"Percy," she groaned, her throat dry as sandpaper. As the friction between their hands increased, pain shot through Annabeth's entire arm. She let out a cry of pain, a pathetic sob.

"I got you," he said once again, nearly breathless. He began to pull her up, sweat beading on his forehead and his cheeks flushing with effort. Pure determination colored his face as he slowly began to hoist her up. She wished that there was some way she could help him, but with the fractured state she was in, all she could do was hang there like dead weight. Once she was close enough, she reached her other hand to the edge, grabbing hold and trying to pull herself up. Of course, it didn't help that her arm was ripped open and in excruciating pain, although the bleeding had slowed, but she did what she could.

Finally, with one last tug and grunt of effort, Annabeth was back on solid ground. She breathed as deeply as she could, trying to gain her bearings and quell the pounding in her head. On top of the throbbing gashes in her arm, it felt like her shoulder had been ripped out of its socket. But she was grateful to be alive. Percy was lying next to her, looking at her with a dazed yet slightly relieved face.

Then he was crouched on his knees over her, examining the poisoned wounds in her arm in concern. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were pressed tight. He looks cute when he's worried... she thought distantly.

"She got you pretty good, huh?" he asked rhetorically, visibly trying to stay calm. He worked quickly as he pulled off his jacket, tearing off the sleeve. He took her arm and began to wrap it in the smooth fabric, blood soaking through the first few layers.

"P-Percy..." she tried to speak, but it felt like she had swallowed shards of glass.

"Just breathe," he said, keeping an unwavering focus on her arm. The look on his face told her it didn't look great. "I'm gonna get us out of this." She almost couldn't make out what he had said, as he was muttering now, seemingly more to himself than her.
He finished with her arm and tied the fabric tight. The pressure was painful and the seering only slowed in the slightest, but she was glad the wound was covered.

She tried to sit up, but slipped when she leaned on her injured hand, letting out a whimper in pain as she hit the granite. "Gah!" She sucked in air through her teeth, clutching her hand.

"Fuck," Percy cursed, watching blood begin to drip through her fingers. She must have reopened the gashes. "Hold on." He tore off the other sleeve and began carefully wrapping it around her hand, red soaking through the fabric immediately. She groaned as he worked, gritting her teeth at the excruciating feeling of friction against her raw skin. Finally he was finished, pulling the dressing taut.

"Come on," he said, glancing behind him nervously. Annabeth couldn't see what he was looking at, but she assumed it was the body of Echidna. But she wasn't dead—she was still there, breathing slowly. She was down, but not for much longer. They needed to move quickly. With bloodstained hands, Percy helped Annabeth up and they gained their bearings.
But suddenly, a tiny voice cutting through the wind sent Annabeth's heart to her feet.

"Percy!" It was the little boy. His older sister was standing behind him. "Percy!" he was calling and waving from behind a pillar, his little hand in the air. No, no, no, no, no, Annabeth thought.

"Fuck," Percy cursed under his breath. They broke into a sprint, Annabeth running as best she could with a busted ankle. Practically sliding behind the pillar from moving so fast, Annabeth grabbed the boy and pulled him back before Echidna could see him. She prayed that she had moved quickly enough, but she doubted it.

"What are you doing?" Percy asked in disbelief, trying to remain despite the terrible fact that the children had followed him up. "I told you to stay down there and not to move until I came back," he chastised.

"You left them down there!?" Annabeth asked incredulously.

Percy turned to her with wide eyes. "I had to come help you."

She wanted to argue but it was useless and certainly not the time. "We need to keep fighting, she's still alive." Annabeth peered around the pillar and her stomach churned. "And she's getting up."

"Fu—darn," he corrected himself. Annabeth couldn't believe he would think that to be important at such a time, but simultaneously wasn't surprised at all. "Listen," he said, bringing everyone into a huddle. "Annabeth, you're staying here with them—"

"What? Absolutely not, you can't fight her alone—"

"You're way too injured to fight, Annabeth," he insisted sternly.

"Percy—" she began to argue, but then she stopped when he looked at her and his gaze softened.

"Please."He was almost begging, his eyes imploring her; I can't have you get hurt anymore.

Her jaw became slightly less clenched. Relenting, she nodded solemnly.

"Miles, you stay here and do not make any noise," he instructed, pointing to the little boy. Miles, Annabeth noted, his name is Miles. "Lilah, you too." His hands were on her shoulders. Lilah... it was beautiful. "No noise, no moving. I'll be back, I promise," he said sincerely. "Just stay with Annabeth—you're safe."

The two kids nodded, fear yet understanding on their faces. Annabeth's heart could've broken at the thought that that understanding—that of the cruel world they lived in—would only deepen in them, for demigods grew up far too fast. She hated that these little children would have to face a reality like that, especially so soon. She was going to get them out of this; she was going to protect them.

Then Percy looked to Annabeth. It seemed that he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. She found that it was a two way street. She wanted to tell him 'thank you', 'be careful', anything, but those were all forms of saying goodbye, and that was one thing that was not happening; she wasn't ready for it. So instead, she nodded. It was a small gesture, but it was encouraging. He nodded back, a determined look in his eyes. His face relaxed into the slightest snarky smirk, and her gaze softened. Then, he sprinted out from the pillar and towards Echidna.

"SCREEEEEEECH!" Echidna was still very much alive, as was evident by Annabeth's shattered eardrums. Miles and Lilah began to look nervous, and Annabeth put her arm around them both. She didn't know where she had gotten them, considering she had never had a good mother figure in her life, but somehow maternal instincts were kicking in.

"You're the girl who pulled us under the table before," Miles noted, looking at her with big brown eyes.

Annabeth suddenly had the urge to laugh, but she couldn't. Instead, a small smile formed on her face. "Yes, I am," she confirmed. "So how did you guys get all the way up here?" she asked. She wanted to know just what stupid heroic shit Percy had pulled.

"Well, we were going towards the door, but then he took us to the stairs instead," Lilah answered. She spoke with a slight charisma that made Annabeth's heart melt. "He kept saying you should be there for the people you love or something, I couldn't really hear over the music."

Suddenly Annabeth didn't care about chewing him out. Instead, a warm feeling seemed to melt in her stomach. He said he loved her? No, no, no. He definitely meant it in the sense that he cared about her, considering they've been traveling together for months. He didn't have... romantic feelings for her. That would be ridiculous. Not to mention, she was getting this information from a seven year old.

Everything was reeling at the moment, and her heart was certainly a part of that parade. Her mind swirled with a million different thoughts. Annabeth thought she felt her heart skip a beat, but being so close to death, she wasn't sure of anything. The only thing she could get a firm grasp on was that she really cared for Percy, and he was out there fighting for her—the feeling was mutual.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Lilah asked suddenly.
Annabeth sputtered out a cough. "W-what? No, no, no," she insisted, a stuttering and probably cherry red mess. What was it with little kids and wanting everyone to be dating? "He is not my boyfriend." She wanted to add that the thought was repulsive, but she knew she would then have to explain what repulsive meant, and it was a lie. Although, lately it hadn't been a complete lie—seeing him so being so awkward and infuriatingly stupid had really quelled a lot of her feelings.

"He should be," Lilah said casually with a shrug and a little smirk. This girl knew exactly what she was doing. She looked at Annabeth innocently.

"For someone so young, you sure have a lot to say," Annabeth teased.

"That's what my momma says," she replied. Annabeth shook her head as Lilah's grin became more evident. Miles even let out a laugh, even if it was meek and a bit nervous. His small smile was enough to power her to fight every demon in the world.

Annabeth had been keeping an ear out for the sounds of fighting, hearing the clash of claws and celestial bronze, as well as Percy hurling insults at Echidna and her hissing and cursing in response. She peaked around the pillar, watching carefully as Percy parried and struck, moving with agility and precision. The top buttons of his dress shirt had come undone and he had rolled up his sleeves. Now that, she thought, is boyfriend material. She wanted to laugh at herself, but the thought disappeared when Echidna tripped Percy when he sidestepped, her claws raking through his side as his shattering cry of pain pierced the air.

"PERCY!" Annabeth screamed. Without another thought, she ran out from behind the pillar, slicing at Echidna's tail, making it a paintbrush of blood. Echidna screeched loudly and locked her gaze on Annabeth. Percy was dropped to the floor with a thud, blood soaking through his white shirt. Her stomach lurched into her throat at the sight of him curled up on the floor, bloody. She wanted to go to him, but she knew Echidna required her attention first.

She charged forward, stabbing Echidna when she tried to grab at her with her tail. She needed to get close. If she could go right through her heart, it would be over. They could get out. Despite the defense, Annabeth surged on, continually moving up with every parry and strike. She was moving perfectly, her feet swift and dagger work precise. Her arm and hand seared and there was no doubt her ankle was swollen and purple, but she ignored the pain. Everything was going right—Annabeth was almost where she needed to be, just a few more steps.

Echidna swiped out with her claw, and Annabeth stuck her dagger right through her palm before slicing the other arm. "AGH! You've made the revenge of killing you even greater!" Echidna snarled, her ugly yellow teeth like candy corn in black jam.

"Come and get me!" Annabeth taunted. But suddenly something caught her eye. It was Percy, standing, but barely holding himself up with his blade in his hands. He was gaunt and pale and it looked like he could be blown over by the wind. His shirt was nearly completely stained with blood. Seeing him so close to death, Annabeth went into panic mode. She wanted to run to him, but she knew she couldn't—she'd never get there in time and Echidna would kill her the second she turned her back.

"Oh, look who'sss back for more!" Echidna cackled. "It's almossst sssad how easssy thisss will be, boy."

"Percy, get back!" Annabeth yelled. He didn't listen, of course, and Annabeth went to run to him. But Echidna's tail got the best of her, and Annabeth tripped and hit the ground hard. Suddenly, Echidna was coming to her, looming over her like death. She let out a raspy laugh, deep and guttural, and it was almost as if Annabeth could hear the haunting voices of other demigods she had killed. She tried to move back, but Echidna's tail was everywhere.

But suddenly, a tiny voice rose up through the wind.

"Bad monster!"

Annabeth looked back and her heart dropped out of her body. There Lilah indignantly stood, her fists balled, determination on her tiny little face. She didn't stand a chance.

"LILAH, NO!"

With one great swoop, Echidna's tail swung and threw Lilah straight over the edge. Percy ran to grab her but he couldn't move fast enough. Annabeth watched as time stopped, Lilah's unconscious body sailing through the air, falling helplessly to the water below. Her arms reached out to nothing, to no one—neither one of them could reach the other.

Annabeth's ears were ringing. Everything was muffled, as if she were floating underwater. The throbbing in her arm and hand had dulled and she felt nothing. Nothing but rage. Suddenly, she got up and fought harder than she ever had before, becoming a frenzy of stabbing and parrying and charging. It was like her body moved on autopilot, but every move was executed with visceral precision and intention. Finally, she was as close to Echidna as she needed to be.

Annabeth lunged, plunging her dagger straight into Echidna's chest. Her olive eyes widened in shock, the fear and pain feeding the savage beast of Annabeth's aggression. She tightened her grip on the hilt, tearing the blade straight through her center, all the way down to her tail. With every chink her blade cut through, every layer of flesh, scales, and muscle she sliced apart, she returned to earth, and her rage was more alive than it was before. Like a fire burning inside her, she wanted to destroy everything. She wanted to tear Echidna, this disgusting, vile monster, limb from limb and make her feel excruciating pain. She wanted Echidna to suffer.

Echidna fell, bleeding out all over the granite, all over Annabeth, but she didn't care. She moved over Echidna and continued stabbing, her dagger plunging in and out of the scales, drawing out blood on the blade, on her hands, on her clothes. She grunted and growled with every stab, using all of her force and rage. The feeling of fire burning in her veins, the desperate desire for revenge, didn't subside. She stabbed and stabbed until she was alone on the ground, kneeling in the middle of a mural of emerald green feathers.

Annabeth didn't move. She stayed on her knees, glaring furiously into the ground. Blood still covered her hands and stained her clothes. Percy was at her shoulder. He went to reach out, but she stood up, brushing him off. He didn't need to tell her; she already knew Lilah was dead. Annabeth walked over to where Miles sat, behind the pillar. He was sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, his head buried behind his arms. His tiny body was quivering, and Annabeth's anger deepened. She felt a mixture of numbness and rage.

Percy knelt down to Miles, placing a gentle hand on his arms. Miles looked up with large, puffy, red eyes and a tear streaked face. He crawled to Percy, hugging him tight, like he was clinging to him for dear life. Percy didn't seem to care about his side anymore, or any other injury he had. Annabeth watched as he hugged Miles back, holding him close. He was whispering to him, although she couldn't make out what.

Annabeth looked out over the edge. She stared at the gaping whole in the railing, the feathers on the floor, all the damage they had done. Had any of it been worth it? Look at the mess they made. The mess she made. Annabeth clutched the hilt of her dagger until her knuckles turned white. With a clenched jaw, she cursed everything; the cruel, vicious world, the gods, the fates, and, most of all, herself.

^+^+^

"How's it coming?" Percy asked quietly.

Annabeth didn't look at him. She didn't say anything. Instead, she just kept grinding. She was mixing a salve for the poison in both of their wounds. Apparently, she had read about Echidna years ago and luckily didn't skip over the chapter about her poison. Percy hoped it was almost finished—if you didn't apply the salve within the first twelve hours of being infected, you died. Painfully. At least, as Annabeth puts it.

Annabeth had barely spoken since they fought Echidna. To be quite honest, neither had Percy, but it was different with her—only the essential, bare minimum conversation was had. Her walls were so harsh and divisive they were beginning to feel physical. She had been colder than midnight in January. He knew why she didn't want to talk—it was the same reason he could barely get his own words out. He understood her pain, her anger, but he was starting to feel like part of that was directed at him. He didn't know why, and quite honestly, he was afraid to find out, but it was killing him even more not being able to talk to her.

Finally, she stopped grinding the paste and handed him the bowl. "Here."

"No, you do it first, I don't need as much," he insisted, holding it out to her.

She stared at him. "I'm fine. You go first." It was technically an offer, but she made it clear that there would be no further discussion. Relenting, Percy began to unbutton what was left of his shirt, pulling it off his arms and throwing it to the floor, the fabric stiff with dried blood. The bleeding had almost completely stopped, but the wound looked terrible. The skin around the exposed muscle was green and inflamed. Of course, dirt and grime were snuggled in there quite nicely. He swallowed hard at the sight of it, barely being able to focus. The pain was, quite obviously, excruciating, although it had eased ever so slightly since he stopped moving. He took a deep breath and looked at the salve.

"Lay down," Annabeth said suddenly. Percy looked up from his wound and saw that she must have realized him struggling. His eyes snapped to hers immediately and there was a sharp light in her irises. Obeying her, he sat down on the cold floor and leaned back, his left arm behind his head. Annabeth took the salve from him and placed it down. Without saying a word, she grabbed a bottle of water and began gently cleaning the wound. Even the water stung as she carefully washed out the dirt.

Percy grit his teeth and sucked in a breath. He exhaled sharply with every pat of the tissue. But when she hit a nerve, he couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips.

"Sorry," she replied, and Percy thought he detected the slightest inflection of genuity and sympathy in her voice.

"It's okay," he breathed. Squeezing his eyes shut.

Finally, she put down the water and the tissues and picked up the salve. Carefully, with two fingers, she applied the gel to his wound. It felt cool against the inflamed skin as she delicately applied it, her touch like the brush of a feather. He didn't know how she was being so gentle, or not vomiting at the sight of the ghastly wound, but he was grateful for both.

When she was finally finished, she put down the bowl and wiped her hands with a rag. "You can let it air out for a few minutes but I'll have to wrap it soon," she explained, her voice sounding tired yet stern. Her face was almost the same, only with the addition of a deep kind of anger, something cold and dark and consuming, sitting in the very depth of her soul. Percy recognized it churning in her eyes, for he had seen it in himself far too often.

He felt the same anger she did, the same hurt—he had gone through the same experience. So why was she shutting him out? Of course, he knew Annabeth wasn't one to open like a book and just talk about everything she was feeling. But despite how well he knew her and the walls she put up, it killed him just the same to still be outside of them. It was only getting harder to accept that she would never let him in, especially now.

He wanted to say something, to tell her to say something, but he knew that it would be dangerous to prod. His mouth stayed closed. Shutting his eyes tight, Percy tried to calm himself down. It wouldn't be good to get worked up when his side was torn open, although the wound was beginning to throb less, the cool sensation calming his inflamed nerves.

With a sigh, he looked over at Annabeth, who was seemingly paying him no mind, although he knew better—Annabeth was always aware of everything in her surroundings. But something was keeping him from caring that she knew he was watching her tend to her own wounds. She had since changed out of the tatters of her dirty, blood-stained dress and now sat in only pants and her bra. He felt bad about that—he knew how much she liked that dress; even if she never said it, he could see the way she looked at herself in it. It was similar to how he looked at her in it; with awe. She began carefully cleaning each gash.

Despite her skill at hiding the pain in her face, Percy noticed how she clenched her jaw impossibly tight. She carefully applied the salve to her left hand, swallowing hard as she took cautious breaths through her nose. Then she looked to her arm, the wound glistening red as it threatened to begin bleeding again. She put the bowl on the floor and tried to apply more, but it was too difficult when the hand she had to use was supposed to be resting. Percy watched to make sure she needed help before he offered—she didn't like asking for or accepting help, and right now that opposition only increased tenfold. With a huff, she squeezed her eyes closed in frustration.

"Let me," he said, sitting up and scooting over to her.

"No, I can..." she tried to protest but it was lost in a sigh as he took the salve from her.

As gently as he could, Percy began applying the gel to her arm, wanting to be as careful as she had been with him. He was honestly afraid that he would touch too hard and then she'd bleed out and die, or kick his ass until he bled out and died—but that was irrational. He needed to just ease up and be calm.

He carefully finished applying the salve to her arm. She didn't even wince the entire time—she was a true warrior. She was stronger than he could ever be. He just wished she would realize that she could let her guard down around him, she didn't have to be strong all the time—he would protect her no matter what. But it wasn't like she could simply flip a switch after having no one but herself after all those years—he couldn't either. It had taken a lot of him thus far to trust her completely, but he did. However, he was afraid that that trust wasn't mutual.

"Good?" he asked, placing down the salve and wiping his hands.

Annabeth nodded solemnly. "Thank you," she replied, her voice quiet and stolid.

"Of course," he answered. "Where's the gauze?" he asked, remembering it was time to wrap his wound.

"I got it." Annabeth rummaged through her bag of supplies and pulled out the role of clean, white gauze. He had no idea how she kept everything so pristine, as they were living on the streets, but he was grateful for it. Without saying anything, it was understood that Annabeth would help him again.

She scooted over to be directly in front of him, sitting with one leg tucked under herself and the other, with her busted ankle, stretched out next to her. Percy pulled his legs in to make room for her.

He watched her carefully as she picked up the gauze and began to unwrap it. She scooted closer to him and started to wrap him in the gauze. Percy brought his arms up with his hands behind his head.

Suddenly he was very conscious of everything; Annabeth was extremely close to him and he probably smelled terrible—he'd have to apologize for that later. But more than anything, he felt every little swipe of her fingers against his skin. Every time she touched him a warmth ran through his entire body, making his head fuzzy—it was like adrenaline coursing through his veins. It was gentle and soft and calming every one of his nerves as she carefully wrapped all around his ribs. He watched as she did so, and all he could think about was how beautiful she looked. He didn't think he could ever stop thinking about it, even at a time like this.

Finally, she was done, but she didn't move away. She sat and just stared at his midsection, all wrapped up in the soft white fabric. Then, moving slowly, intentionally, Percy took the gauze from her.

Wordlessly, she understood as she held her arm to him, allowing him to wrap the gauze around her wound. He moved carefully, taking note of her wince when he pulled the first layer over the gash.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly.

Annabeth gently shook her head. "It's okay." She just barely spoke the words, but they were calmer—still cold, but less hostile. He continued wrapping her arm. When he was finished, he carefully took her left hand, holding it with his palm on the back. The skin was rough and textured, much like his own. Starting at her wrist, he wrapped layer upon layer around her hand until it was safely dressed in the white gauze.
Over the course of dressing each other's wounds, some kind of guard had been let down. Things didn't feel as cold in the train car.

"Annabeth..." Percy started to say, but he realized that he didn't actually have the words. How did he approach such a delicate situation without ruining all the trust that had been built in these few small moments? It was like a snowflake—if he even breathed it would melt away into nothing.

Her eyes met his and there was a look in her irises like before: freezing and angry, but somehow, ever so slightly more forgiving. Percy was working up the courage to say something, but Annabeth was already standing up. Before she walked away, he grabbed her hand.

"Can we talk about what happened? Please?" his voice came out earnest, almost begging. Annabeth looked back at him and he hoped that she could see how he was dying to speak to her. A fire suddenly ignited behind her eyes and he could tell that he struck a nerve. But he knew that sometimes you needed to light a fire to keep warm.

"Please..."

With that final plea, something seemed to break down in her, and she relented with a sigh. He was finally going to get through to her, even if it had just been by a little bit.

"What is there to say, Percy?" she asked, and suddenly Percy felt like he had already gotten this all wrong. Any progress he thought he had made in chipping away at the walls of ice she froze herself behind was just an illusion. Her anger wasn't fiery—it was dangerously freezing.

"Can you just tell me how you feel right now?" Trying to navigate this situation was like weaving through icebergs on a river draped in fog.

"You really can't imagine what I might be feeling right now?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, I know how I'm feeling, but it's impossible to know when you shut me out," he insisted. He felt his own anger rising—it was getting harder to keep calm when Annabeth was sinking into herself again.

"Shut you out? Do you have any idea what just happened!?" Things began to spiral downward, falling so rapidly, morphing so extremely in such dangerous ways—it was all too fast for him to comprehend, to try and grab hold of something stable. "But no, no I'm so sorry, Percy, that I don't wanna talk about the fact that we're dysfunctional and I'm a failure!" She was shouting now, and he hated the way she venomously spat his name.

"Who said you're a failure?"

"Lilah!"

Silence.

The way she said her name sliced through Percy like shards of glass—it was death by a thousand cuts. He stared at her, his mouth agape and dry, any and all words escaping him. She thought that she had failed Lilah? If anything, Annabeth was her champion—Percy was the one to blame. But he didn't want to face it until he saw how it was hurting Annabeth.

"Why couldn't you just listen to me?" she asked angrily, her eyes wide and brows furrowed.
Suddenly, Percy realized Annabeth was also blaming him, and while she was right, that didn't take away how badly it stung. It felt like she had just hit him in the chest; he was down and all the air had been knocked out of his lungs. But being backed into a corner was when Percy's defensive instincts kicked in, and if he wasn't careful, he could shoot to kill.

Percy stood up. "I tried Annabeth, but I couldn't leave you—I knew you were in trouble," he explained. He did have a good reason for going back. It had been a difficult decision, but he didn't realize at the time how delicately fate was balanced on his choice. He couldn't even bear to think about it now—Annabeth or Lilah? An impossible decision, one he never wanted to have to make.

"Who cares about me? What was important was saving them—once again you can't follow the fucking plan!" She was waving her arms in exasperation now, the pain of her wounds seemingly gone numb from the adrenaline of anger.

"I had no choice, I couldn't just leave you!"

"Why? Why, Percy?" she asked, and what should have been a rhetorical question was punctuated with a look of sincere, genuine curiosity. Did Annabeth really think she wasn't worth saving? But maybe... maybe she thought he wasn't worth saving either. "I mean, I just fuck everything up anyways—"

"Annabeth, I could never—"

"I'm the problem, I always have been! I can't do anything fucking right!" she was shouting now, cutting him off—all the words he wanted to get out were shot down by her venomous criticisms. "And you can't even tell me I'm wrong—my entire life is all the evidence! You think so too, I can see it in the way you're looking at me right now!"

Percy's eyes went wide with disbelief—how could she say that? How could she put that on him? The last thing he thought was that she was a failure. He should've tried to explain to her how important she was and all the good that she had done, especially for him. He should've calmed down. But in the heat of the moment, ever rising and imposingly swelling, all he could hear was one word: accuse, accuse, accuse.

"What are you even saying right now?! You're being ridiculous!"

"See!?" Annabeth gesticulated, emphasizing her point. Her face was red with anger and Percy's own cheeks felt hot. "It's me, it's always fucking been me! My own family hates me!"

Percy scoffed and rolled his eyes hard. "Oh please, Annabeth! You're not the only one with family problems—my mom is dead!"

"Well, at least she loved you when she was alive!"

Suddenly, Percy didn't have anything else to say. Goosebumps rose all over his skin, and he found that tears were stinging his eyes. He noticed Annabeth's silvery irises, just crackling like thunder, now simply looked cracked, broken and glassy with tears.

"My family is out there, alive and well, the people who are supposed to be my home, and they choose not to love me. They rejected me. I ran when I was seven... Seven years old and they didn't even bother to look," her voice, consistently wavering, finally broke. Tears rolled down her cheeks, slipping off her chin and hitting the dirty wood of the train car floor.

It was hard to look into her eyes, into so much raw anger and hurt. Percy's heart was lurched in his throat, stuck there with his voice. He didn't know what to say, or if to say anything. Part of him felt ashamed, but somewhere among everything he was feeling still lived defensiveness and anger of his own. But behind his eyes, the gears were turning in his head, and it was starting to make sense why she was so upset that she couldn't save Lilah.

"Head first into the very thing I was terrified of, because the shame of being unwanted was too painful. It was worse than any fate that waited for me on the streets. But it was my own fault—I was the one who didn't fit into their picture perfect little family. It's always been me—I'm the one who fucked everything up, I'm the one who couldn't sa—" her voice faltered and Percy heard a hurt that she had never shown him before. It was the kind of deep, fiercely rooted pain of wounds from long ago that never quite had a chance to heal.

Percy's walls of defense began to come down and he wanted to be there for her. He wanted to reassure her, tell her it wasn't her fault, it was his. But there was an air about her that told him her gates of ice weren't thawing.

"But you know what, Percy?" She had composed herself, and there was a spiteful edge back in her voice. A static returned to the air, the tension thickening so much it almost became suffocating. Suddenly every nerve in Percy's body was on edge, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand pin straight. She had already plunged her knife into his chest—she was about to twist the blade.

"Of everything that I've done wrong, all the terrible fucking hands I've been dealt... For every fucking short straw I've ever drawn," she paused, looking him dead in the face, and her eyes were back to the steely, fury they held before. She was almost drawling her words now, every syllable slipping of her tongue with malevolence and poison. "This," she gestured between them, "You? It was the shortest straw I ever pulled."

It felt like he had been kicked in the chest—the air was sucked completely from his lungs. Percy's eyes hardened in hurt. She had twisted the blade, hard, and she had pushed it even deeper. He barely registered the words as they rang through his head.

How could she say that to him? Did he really mean nothing to her? He guessed he should've known—she had told him from the beginning that he was expendable, that she wasn't waiting for him. He stared into her eyes, searching for any kind of regret, or apology. But he found none.

Percy swallowed hard. He should've wanted to scream, to yell back in her face, but he didn't. Those words had taken everything out of him. She had hurt him more than he could ever possibly explain, more than any amount of yelling or screaming or crying could ever fix. So, he did the only thing he could. Barely mustering the words, he hoped his voice wouldn't break.

"Right," he agreed, his voice quiet, defeated. "Well, that's one mistake I can help you erase." He turned to gather his things—luckily most of it was packed. He pulled on a shirt and grabbed his pack. Without another word, he hopped out of the train car, leaving Annabeth staring after him, the anger not leaving her face. She felt no remorse.

Percy walked down the rails into the night, not looking back. He would never look back.

^+^+^

It had been a month since Annabeth and Percy parted ways. She had decided to move on from Chicago. She waited as long as the monsters would allow, but she couldn't stay any longer. She searched for him, but it soon became clear to her that he didn't want to be found. After all, why would he want to be after how she hurt him? If she couldn't stop thinking about it, there wasn't a chance he could.

It kept her awake every night, and even when her body finally gave into the weight of exhaustion every few nights, it was all she could dream about. She could see it, clear in her mind; the hurt, the absolute disappointment on his face. Annabeth would never stop disappointing people and hurting them—her father, Lilah, Percy. The look as the light in Percy's eyes went dim was unrelenting in her dreams. Not only did the vision haunt her, but the pain in her chest was fresh as well, like it happened yesterday.

Along with the thoughts of Percy swirling around her head all day, but Lilah did too. There was this heavy feeling in her stomach, like she had swallowed a cinder block: guilt and shame. How could she not have seen it coming? She should have been paying more attention to them, making sure they were safe. It was her job to keep them safe. She had failed.

What should have been beautiful thoughts of the life Lilah might have lived haunted Annabeth endlessly; she would never grow up, go to high school, graduate, get married. All the things normal people can do, the chance for a regular life, every possibility of that was gone. Miles would grow up without his big sister, their parents would grieve the loss of their child. Annabeth wished she could apologize to them, but part of her was grateful that she didn't have to see them; the devastated look on their faces, their disappointment in her—she didn't know if she would be able to handle it. The two sides of her mind were at war with each other, ripping and pulling, tearing her apart.

Her heart ached and her hands were shaky now—they never were before. She hadn't been eating as much and she noticed she was getting thin, but her appetite just wasn't there most days. Besides, it was easier when you didn't have to worry about where you were finding food. Her hair was matted and minimally cleaned—it was hard to find the energy to clean herself up every day, and it wasn't like she was traveling with anyone anymore which only further depleted her motivation. The days felt a lot longer now that she was alone. She was still moving from place to place, getting closer to New York, although she didn't know why she was still following that route—she had only been doing it for Percy. But now, there was no one to do it for—there was no real reason to do anything.

This thought in particular was keeping her awake on this warmer Pennsylvania night. She had been fighting for so long. Why? Every odd was against her and it had been that way since the day she was born. It was tiring work to fight that every single day—wouldn't it be so much easier to just give in? This whole time she had told herself she could never give up, she had to keep pushing. But for what? In hopes of getting to a better life someday when she was older? She scoffed at herself in the dark. That was a joke. How many homeless children grew up to be successful adults? Slim to none. Now add in the fact that there were bloodthirsty monsters after her every single day, and the percentage would probably be negative.

She remembered that somewhere along the line, she was fighting to be better, fighting to live another day, to give herself another chance to be worthy and capable, to get past her issues. But it had become very clear that none of that was happening—she still wasn't good enough. She should've just quit while she was ahead—she would never be good enough.

Sighing, Annabeth rubbed her hands together. She ran her fingers over the scars on her left palm. Her injuries had healed by now, but she was still haunted by them, like phantom wounds. She carefully caressed the raised skin, remembering how gentle Percy had been when he bandaged her. He was so kind. He had always been so kind, even when she was an asshole. How could she ever make him think she didn't need him or that he was a mistake? It was the shortest straw I ever pulled. How could she ever even utter those words? They couldn't have been farther from the truth.

But you were right—if he had just listened to you, things would have happened as they should have. Lilah would be alive. The thought rang through her head, blocking out every voice of reason. It seemed like a snake with venom of negativity and bitterness had crawled into Annabeth's mind some time recently—she had barely even noticed. It's tongue whipped in her ears, whispering hateful words as its body wrapped around her heart and her mind, blocking out any reasonability. She was right—Percy was wrong. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the reminisces of fighting against that negativity and thinking straight floated around, but she had no energy to summon them. It was easier to succumb to the bitter poison.

The next morning Annabeth was up with the sun, packing her things and getting ready to move. She had been in Armstrong County for three days already, and there was no reason to stay any longer. As she packed her things, Annabeth tried to shake a feeling on the back of her neck. Something along the lines of anticipation possibly? It was similar to the feeling she had before... before she and Percy... It was hard to think about. She wasn't entirely sure, but she didn't like the painful nostalgia that came along with it.

Everything is pointless anyways, the snake whispered. The thought was swept to the back of her mind where she couldn't see it anymore. She continued packing and it wasn't long until she was done. She had been camping out in an abandoned gazebo in the woods. It was a little strange to her, but when she found it, she was barely holding herself up—she would've taken anything. It was more exposed than she would've liked, but it had been good enough for the past few days.

The sun was just beginning to rise over the trees, the golden light gloriously casting over the budding branches. Annabeth was never one to dwell on things like that, but she found that she had stopped walking. She was entranced by the way the sun was beginning to light up all the trees around her. She held her hand up in the light, watching the warm rays envelope her fingers. It was beautiful. It was the kind of thing Percy would like.

She closed her eyes in the warm embrace, and she could see it. He'd be spinning around like an idiot, holding out his arms. His face would be painted golden with a radiant smile. He would look happy. And her heart would flutter in that way it always did when he gave her that stupid smirk. She would remember why she fell for him, how badly she needed him. Things would be okay. Everything would be okay, because it always was as long as she had him.

But then the vision dissipated, and Annabeth felt the warmth leave her face, a shadow replacing it. When she opened her eyes, she saw what was blocking the sun and her heart dropped out of her body.

Before her stood a beast she never thought she'd encounter—the Chimera. The snarling, growling head of a lion roared at Annabeth and it's goat co-head breathed fire into the air. The smell of burnt bark filled the air—and soon the smell would be burnt flesh. Annabeth stood there, frozen in fear. Did she even have the will to fight, let alone the strength? Considering she was afraid of the answer to that question, she took it as a no. But was she really going to simply let herself die? Somehow, she couldn't do it. There was some reason to keep fighting, to stay alive. But what was it? She raked her mind desperately—What was it... what was it?

Sunlight.

She remembered the sun on her hands, on her face, how warm and inviting it was. How comforting the thought of that sunlight washing over Percy was. Sunlight. It was miniscule and ordinary, but it was a good enough reason to keep fighting. From the back of her mind, through the ugly scales of negativity, that one little thought was able to escape. Desperately, she grabbed hold of the slippery wisp of hope and gripped it tight, keeping it present in her mind. Sunlight.

As the Chimera's tail reared around, the snake head at the end snapped and hissed, revealing a mouth of eight-inch, venom-dripping fangs. She swallowed hard. She had to admit she was afraid, and she didn't know if she would make it out alive, but she was a fighter and she was not going to lie down and take this easily. She shook her pack off her shoulders, letting it hit the ground. Unsheathing her dagger, she braced herself.

The lion head roared and the Chimera charged.

Annabeth didn't remember killing the Chimera.

In fact, she didn't remember much of anything when she woke up on a bench, the only thing she could see being the trees stretching far above her before they relented to an expanse of clear blue sky. She worried briefly at hearing nothing, but then realized it wasn't her ears—it was just the silent forest around her.

Part of her for a moment wondered if she had died. But then she realized that if she were dead, she wouldn't have ended up in a place as nice as this. She blinked her eyes, barely being able to keep them open. She suddenly remembered the need to breathe, inhaling deeply through her nose. The air was clear and smelled like the trees around her—it felt good in her lungs. The temperature was warm, warmer than it had been lately. Bringing her hands up to her face, she was suddenly aware of her body and the extreme aching in every single nerve. She let out an involuntary groan as she tried to move.

Staring at her hands, cut up and the skin over her knuckles taught and red, she noticed the bandana wrapped around her wrist. It seemed that a bit of blood had soaked through—she was cut. To think she walked away from the Chimera with only a cut on her forearm was pretty good.

She grabbed the back of the bench, using it to pull herself up. Examining the rest of her body, she noticed her blanket sprawled over her legs. As she looked around, all she could see was her pack on the ground and some supplies lying on the ground. How had she gotten here? Did she somehow pull it together enough to wrap herself up before she passed out? There was no way.

She threw the blanket off of her legs, but that was when she realized she in fact had no pants on, and there was gauze wrapped around her knee. No blood, but the friction of moving caused a fierce pain licking up each layer of muscle. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the thought of fire swirled, and she believed she had been burned. She pulled her blanket back over her legs—being pantless in the forest was never a good idea.

When she turned her head, her eyes were caught by the light, squinting on instinct. It was the sun. The sun was shining brightly, laying a bit lower in the sky, but still radiant. She must have been asleep for a few hours—it didn't feel longer than that. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth wash over her, just like she had at dawn. She breathed in deeply, and she realized she was grateful to be breathing, to be alive. She was glad that she had kept fighting. This gratitude led her to the thought of Percy again, grinning in the sun. She needed to get to him. But how? He had to be long gone by now, and how could she know which direction he was moving—

Snap.

Annabeth heard something walking through the woods. Her eyes snapped open and she desperately reached for her pack, grabbing her dagger. Of course she would be caught without pants on at a time like this. She stood up as silently as possible, tying the blanket around her waist. She readied herself, scanning the trees in every direction. But when she saw who was coming, it was almost scarier than any monster or human she could have to face.

Twelve feet away from her, ocean green eyes looked up and locked on her own. He stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, seemingly trying to process the moment, but not as hard as Annabeth was. Of course. Of course it was Percy who bandaged her up, took care of her, probably carried her all the way here. Seeing him made her heart lurch into her throat and emotions began to roar inside her chest, like a tsunami destroying all of the resentment and bitterness that had been building around her heart. Her dagger slipped out of her fingers and hit the ground. She wanted to cry, she wanted to laugh, she wanted to hug him. She didn't even know if he was real. He continued walking to her, not saying anything. She couldn't speak.

When he finally reached the clearing, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him as tight as she could. She didn't know why or how, but her body moved on autopilot, making all the decisions for her. She held onto him as tightly as she could, terrified that the second she let go, he would dissipate into nothing. He was probably furious at her, he probably hated her guts and she couldn't blame him—she would if she were him. But in that moment, all she had was him in her arms and that was so much more than she deserved.

Holding him so close and feeling everything at once, she broke down. Sobs escaped her lips as she cried awfully into his shoulder. It was only then that his arms wrapped around her, embracing her tight and fiercely hugging her back. Annabeth dropped to her knees, Percy coming down with her, and they sat, on the ground wrapped in each other.

There were so many things she wanted to say—she wanted to apologize for how utterly terrible she had been—but she couldn't get anything out but sobs and shuddering breaths. All she could do was cling to him like a child. It felt so good to have him back, even if it was only for a moment. Her heartbeat raced in her chest and for the first time in so long, she felt a little okay again. She knew that neither of them were good, but they could get there.

Finally, as Annabeth began to calm her irregular breathing and sobs, although tears still fell from her eyes, they pulled away. She stared at him, his perfect, kind face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and his nose was red. His hands found their way to her face, brushing away strands of hair and tears. It was so comforting to feel him. Her heart ached, but in the way that it was shedding old, frigid skin. It was sprouting new wings, it was releasing the hatred, anger, and shame that had been weighing her down.

Percy stared into her eyes and she could feel that he had missed her too. Knowing that alone made her cry more. She stumbled out all the words she could, although so few of them were coherent.

"I- I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

Percy swallowed hard and shook his head, still holding her face. "It's okay." She hadn't heard his voice in so long. It covered her like a warm, fuzzy blanket.

"I'm so so sorry," she said again. She couldn't repeat it enough times—was there any real way for her to express how truly apologetic she was? How badly she felt, how much remorse she carried around for being so terrible to him and for letting him down?

"It's okay," he said, his voice reassuring. "I forgive you."

Those three words were so much more than she ever could have asked for or deserved. Forgiveness. Her heart was thawing, and all the hurt fogging her mind began to clear. It felt like sunlight came shining through, illuminating everything and suddenly she felt unclouded. Sniffling and hysterical, she tried to take a deep breath to calm herself. These next words needed to be clear.

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me." She stared into his eyes, hoping he could see her sincerity, her truth, because that was the truest thing she knew. "Y-... you make everything better," she whispered, almost choking on the words. It had been so hard to say that to him for so long, and of all her regrets that was one of the greatest.

"You too," he answered with a sniffle.

She stared into his eyes just as the sun hit them, lighting up his irises in such a beautiful way. She saw depth in them she had never seen before, and it was like she was looking right into his brilliant soul. She saw everything she never wanted to part with again. He grinned at her, and it was just like she had seen it in her mind. He looked happy, warm and bright. She felt the cracks that had formed in her heart and in her mind begin to heal, slowly. She had to wonder for a moment if this was even real. Reaching up, she ran her thumb over his cheeks, over the scar on his jaw. He was real, he was there, in her hands. She had never felt so grateful in her life.

As she moved to hug him once more, her blanket kilt began to fall. "Oh!" She quickly grabbed it with a small yelp, pulling it tighter around her. She and Percy then locked eyes with each other, both bright red, but they laughed, the sounds warm and glad.

"Sorry about that," Percy chuckled. "I couldn't get to your leg with your pants on and it was pretty bad," he explained sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Annabeth gave a small smile and a sniffle. "It's alright. It's a pretty fashionable skirt honestly," she joked, making him laugh. Then they grinned at each other, for real, and Annabeth's heart boomed in her chest.

He pulled her close once more and she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him as tight as she could. He whispered something into her hair so quietly she almost didn't make it out. "I missed you."

And she had missed him, more than either of them could ever even realize. He had become a part of her, and she knew that more than ever in this past month without him. She had been walking around incomplete, missing a part of herself and it was painful. It was so hard to exist without him. She never wanted to hurt him like that again.

"I missed you too," she mumbled into his chest.

And there, huddled together in brilliant sunlight, Annabeth started to feel whole again.

^+^+^

"So, tell me again what happened?" Annabeth asked. Percy was trying to explain to her how he had found her. She still wasn't grasping the entire story, and her memories were coming back in little wisps, floating around in her mind.

"I was just walking along, minding my business, of course," he said casually with a shrug. She missed his stupid jokey way of telling stories. "And then I heard fighting in the woods. Naturally, I made my way over to see what the deal was. But when I got there, all I saw was you, lying on the ground in the middle of a huge patch of yellow feathers. My guess—you killed whatever you were fighting and then passed out. It probably took all of your energy—I mean, with the amount of feathers it had to be huge," he explained. "I'm surprised that you're even awake right now."

"It was the Chimera," she said with certainty. That was one thing she for sure remembered.

"What else do you remember? Anything?" Percy asked, looking at her attentively. She had missed that gaze.

"Bits and pieces of the fight, and everything right up to it. It was so strange. Things changed so quickly. The first moment, I..." she faltered, trying to find the words to describe the sun on her face, the realization that she needed Percy. It was such a colossal moment for her, something so moving, were there even words that could possibly do it justice? She felt goosebumps rise on her skin. "It was beautiful. The sun was so bright. It was warm, and I realized... I realized I need you. I can't believe I was ready to give up before that." She shook her head in disbelief of herself.

Percy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. "Give up?"

Annabeth nodded solemnly. "I thought I had no reason to fight anymore. There was no one to stay for, and even if there was, they'd be better off. I mean, I'm such a mess and I..." she faltered for a moment. "I let so many people down, Percy," her voice came out strained and wavering. Tears stung her eyes. It was still hard to talk about–to be so vulnerable and honest about the worst parts of herself in front of the most important person in her life. Vulnerability had never come easy to her.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said gently, moving closer to her. He shook his head in reassurance.

"I hurt you because I was projecting how angry I was at myself for not saving Lilah," she said breathily, finally admitting it in spoken words. The second she got out the words, tears trailed down her face; tears of guilt, tears of shame, tears of relief, tears of honesty.

"No, no, you were right to be mad at me; I let you down," Percy insisted, his own eyes becoming glassy.

Annabeth shook her head. "You didn't–you saved me. You've always saved me," she whispered, her voice not strong enough through the tears. Percy had saved her so many times, and in ways neither of them even knew yet, and in some he would never know. 'Thank you' would never be enough to express her gratitude. They both took a moment, looking into each other's eyes tearfully, trying to compose themselves.

Then Percy swallowed and took a deep breath. "No matter what either of us say, we're always going to blame ourselves," he said. "But we have to remember that we did everything we could. Annabeth, we fought harder than ever. And what if a worse fate awaited her the longer she lived? You know our chances as demigods, and you know no one can escape fate. We did save Miles–he's okay. If we hadn't been there, they'd both be gone. We did everything we could."

Annabeth nodded. "You're right," she agreed. He was right; she didn't think she'd ever stop blaming herself, but she had to believe that they had done some good. She knew it wouldn't hurt this bad forever, and it was going to take time, but she would get there.

Then he pulled her into a hug, holding her close to his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, thump, thump, thump, against her ear, the sound comforting. She relaxed into him and breathed deeply, calming herself down.

It must have been the relentless nights of insomnia and the steady sound of Percy's breathing, but before Annabeth knew it, her eyelids were heavy and sleep was coaxing her in with its warmth. And so, she succumbed to the sweet darkness.

^+^+^

"I never thought my first time seeing New York City would be through the windows of a cop car," Annabeth snarked, her voice sardonic and bitter.

Percy sighed and rolled his eyes. "It is not my fault that you don't know how to give a signal," he hissed back, his voice tight.

"I was giving you the clearest signal I could've given! You're telling me you see someone waving their arms around at you and the first thought in your head isn't to run?" she asked exasperatedly. They were in quite the predicament, as per usual, and, of course, they were bickering.

"I thought you were looking at something else!" he insisted defensively.

"Percy, you waved back at me! Who does that?" Annabeth looked at him incredulously, her eyes huge. He frowned back at her, giving a good glare.

Sure, he had fucked up trying to get stuff from the store and sure, it was partially his fault that they had gotten arrested, but he was not entirely to blame. Annabeth had not been very clear in her signal–right as she waved, there was a dog walking in front of Percy, and he thought that she was telling him to look at the dog. It was a really cute dog, so the kind of reaction Annabeth was giving felt warranted to him. So, he waved back, excited as well. In hindsight, it was not a very good idea. Now, they both sat, squirming in their handcuffs, angry and huffing at each other.

Since they had reconnected in Pennsylvania almost three weeks ago, things had been good (up until now, of course). While they clearly still did some bickering every once and a while, Percy could certainly feel a shift in the energy between them–the tension that had been bottling up and making it hard to breathe around one another was gone, and most days all he could feel was grateful that he had her back.

It had been a long, miserable month without Annabeth. Percy had almost scared himself with how close he had gotten to giving up. He still didn't like to think about it. But all that mattered was that they were together now; he was no longer being kept awake by his depressing thoughts, but looking over at Annabeth, her soft sleeping reminding him how good it felt to sleep next to her again.

Speaking of feelings around Annabeth, Percy realized his crush certainly hadn't gone away. It was still very much present, at all times, and possibly worsening every day. Okay, definitely worsening every day. But he still didn't know what to do about it, and that felt like a good reason to do nothing. He tried to keep convincing himself that it would go away soon, but he was losing confidence in that mantra.

As far as Annabeth felt, all he really knew was that, despite her glares and eye rolls of endearment, she was glad to have him back as well. He didn't know if she felt for him in a romantic way, or if she even remembered the kiss. It was strange to think about the kiss–it felt like worlds away from them now, it had been so long. Yet, he could remember the feeling like yesterday. The initial numbness of shock, followed by the extreme awareness of everything and the buzzing of every nerve in his body.

Lately, since they had continued moving towards New York, things had calmed down and fallen back into routine, and Percy was thinking more than ever that he wanted to do it again. He was certain that missing Annabeth had made her even more beautiful. Sometimes she caught him staring, and it was always followed by either a look of skepticism or a playful nudge. Those gestures made his brain fog even further.

But now, he was not getting any teasing shoves–just real ones. You would think handcuffs would limit one's ability to hurt another, but not Annabeth–no, she could jostle him just fine.

"Well, then maybe you should've gone in the sketchy store!" Percy argued back.

"Really?" She scoffed at him with an incredulous stare. "I am gonna kick your ass the second we're out of this car, I swear," she threatened.

"I'd like to see you try–"

"Cut it out back there!" The cop in the passenger seat looked back at them, his expression hard and annoyed. Both Percy and Annabeth fell silent. Instead, she sent him a death glare from across the car. He sent one back of his own.

Percy leaned his head against the window and stared out at the commotion of the city. It was strange, being back. Of course, it was different, driving through Midtown when he had lived on the Upper East Side (don't be fooled–Percy lived further above the posh people, closer to Harlem and much more sketchy). He hadn't remembered a lot of the city, but small, specific things from when he was young–the only thing he could really remember as he was running was the fear and determination of survival.

Now, he recalled the way the air was thick and still in the summer, and at night, when a breeze finally came, it was as if the city was sighing, tired from being baked in the sun all day. He remembered watching snow fall through the window with his mother, how the city turned white and softened by the snow. It was a bittersweet feeling, recalling the happiness he felt there, with her, in the simplicity.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the scratch of a radio and a voice coated in static.

"Attention units going down 40th towards 6th, we have a 10-31 coming down 6th. Dark grey Honda Accord, plate number FHR-3867."

The officer in the passenger seat picked up. "Copy, unit 426 responding." Then he flipped on lights and sirens, and they began to swerve in and out of the busy traffic. At this point, Percy had been looking over at Annabeth, admiring how the lights of the city cast bright colors on her face and reflected in her irises. She looked beautiful, and in slight awe, despite the situation. But the second she heard that call, she locked eyes with Percy, and he could almost see the gears turning in her head. She had a plan.

"Unit 426 in pursuit, I repeat, we have eyes on the vehicle."

Percy couldn't see what was going on in front of them, and he gave up trying to stare out the window. Suddenly, he heard a crash, and the car came to an abrupt stop.

"Shit," the officer driving cursed.

Then the other picked up again. "Unit 426 calling for backup, we have an accident on 49th and 6th."

Static crackled. "Backup is on the way." Then the two officers got out of the car, the driver giving Percy and Annabeth a final warning with his thick New York accent: "You try anything and you'll be gettin' a lot worse than handcuffs." Then the doors slammed shut and they were alone.

"Quick," Annabeth said. "Reach in my pocket; there should be a paperclip in it."

Percy nodded and they scooted to each other carefully, trying not to move too much. Turning his back to her, Percy carefully moved his hands to Annabeth's waist, trying to find her pocket. He finally met the lining and reached inside, carefully feeling for the metal wire and pulling out the clip.

"Got it," he said, still intensely focused on the small wire. If he dropped it now, they were screwed, so he was careful in unwrapping it and folding it as he needed.

"Ok, good," she said as he began to pick his cuffs. Outside, he could hear the commotion of the accident, the honking of frustrated cars caught in the traffic, and yelling of pedestrians, back and forth.

He stuck the wire into the keyhole and carefully began to pick the lock. "You know, you always think it won't be that hard to do things behind your back, but," he trailed off, still working as fast and cautiously as he could. "Lucky for us, I'm good with my hands," he teased smugly.

He heard Annabeth scoff; "Shut up." But there was the hint of a smile in her voice. Percy liked making her laugh in tense moments like this. He liked to think it eased some of the tension between her eyebrows from being furrowed so hard.

"Aaaaand," he said, feeling the lock carefully come undone, "Got it," he said, exhaling. He slipped the handcuffs off and turned to face Annabeth, holding up his free hands and grinning.

"Great, now get mine off, dumbass!" she scolded, shoving her hands towards him.

Percy shook his head and reached for her wrists, going to work on the cuffs. It wasn't long before they were both free from their handcuffs, throwing the shackles on the floor. Now, all they had to do was find a way out of the car.

"How do we get out?" Percy asked.

"Hold on," Annabeth said. She reached her hand up into her shirt.

"Uh..." Percy muttered. He had not a clue what she was doing and, a little shamefully, his first thought was that she was taking off her shirt. Very quickly, he realized she was not.

"Good thing I prepare for emergencies," she said. Then she pulled her hand out from under her shirt, revealing a small swiss army knife.

Percy's eyebrows raised–he was slightly confused, a little concerned, but overall, impressed. "You keep a swiss army knife... in your bra?" he asked.

"Nice try," she snarked. He felt his cheeks flush, and he hoped she couldn't see it. "I keep it strapped to my ribs. Only sometimes, though–we got lucky tonight." Percy suddenly realized how lucky they had gotten; the cops didn't pat them down after they dropped the supplies.

"And I didn't know this until now, why?"

"Better not to ask questions," she answered. She was flipping through the different tools before she finally stopped at the one she needed; the corkscrew. "Alright," she said. "Gimme your shoe."

"What?"

"Give me your shoe," she repeated, her voice harsher.

"I don't wanna give you my shoe, what?" he protested.

"I swear to god I'm about to shank you! Give me your fucking shoe if you wanna get out of this car!" she almost yelled at him.

Percy glared at her one last time before he decided that he should just give her his shoe–she was a woman of her word; she very much would shank him. Grumbling, he pulled off his shoe and handed it to her.

"Alright, sit back," she said. She placed the corkscrew at the corner of the window, holding the base with one hand and putting her other hand in Percy's shoe.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up." Then she smashed her shoed-hand down onto the base of the knife, and the window shattered. The break was loud before it let out to the even louder commotion outside, the sounds of traffic and music and movement flooding into the car, blaring, after the muffled quiet they were in.

Percy was amazed. He pulled his shoe back on quickly and watched as Annabeth climbed out of the window, being as careful of the sharp glass as she could while moving fast. He followed her out of the window as nonchalantly as he could, following Annabeth as she started to walk from the scene. The two officers were luckily very busy with the accident in front of the car, so they didn't notice as they walked off.

"HEY!"

Or so they thought.

They broke into a sprint down 6th avenue. Faintly, they heard the crash of radios and footsteps slapping the pavement. Percy was careful to keep up with Annabeth, weaving in and out of stopped cars as he knew they were chased. The wind pushed back his hair as adrenaline coursed through him. They made it to the sidewalk, where they tried not to bump into people, but that was an impossible task. Luckily, this seemed to help them lose the cops. Annabeth grabbed his hand and yanked him as they made a sharp turn at 47th. Once they knew they were in the clear, they ducked into an alleyway to catch their breath.

As they stood there, gasping for air with their hands on their knees, Annabeth began to make a sound. At first, Percy got scared; he thought she was crying. But when he came to her with a hand on her shoulder and concern on his face, she looked up at him, grinning. She was laughing. And before he knew it, Percy was laughing too. They both began laughing, already red in the face and out of breath, but now all over again, flushed and breathless. They laughed until they could barely stand, grabbing each other for support. Percy grinned wide, so wide it hurt, looking at Annabeth. She looked beautiful, coated with sweat and wiping tears from her eyes.
They finally caught their breath, just looking at each other and Percy shook his head.

"Now that was some good running," she said. He laughed at her. "I haven't run like that in a long time," she sighed. It would have been strange to hear if he didn't understand her.

She was right; it was good running. Percy may have been running for his freedom, but he wasn't running for his life. The threat of danger, of being arrested, was small compared to fighting monsters. He imagined it was the only kind of danger he would know had he not been a demigod, had he been normal. The feeling of the ground beneath his feet, knowing he was growing tired as he ran, the lack of air in his lungs, it all felt so... grounded. It felt real. His heart beating out of his chest, the sweat running down his back.

"That was good running," he agreed. They grinned at each other, taking in this moment that shouldn't have been sentimental or meaningful, but was more than they could ever really understand. He was glad to be with her.

That was when he realized the blood on her jeans, and the cut on her hand. "Oh shit."

Annabeth looked at him confused, then she realized as well. "Oh," she said. It must have happened when she crawled out of the window.

"Here," Percy said.

"Oh, no, Percy, don't..." He ripped off the bottom of his shirt, ignoring Annabeth's protests. Then he carefully took her hand and began to wrap it in the fabric.

She watched him as he worked carefully, and he could feel her eyes on him. "You didn't have to do that, you know," she said. "It doesn't hurt."

"Ah yes, because this is my best shirt," he joked. Annabeth let out a small laugh and he smiled. He liked making her laugh. "There," he said, finishing wrapping her wound.

"Thank you," she said. There was a gratefulness in her eyes, a shine even in the darkness of the alley. Percy nodded. "Alright," she started. "Let's get back to our shit," she said with a sigh. Luckily, they weren't far from where they had set up camp, only a few blocks down and over.

They walked out of the alley, and as their arms swayed at their sides, Annabeth grabbed his hand and pulled his arm around her shoulder. He was surprised by the gesture, but couldn't help but notice how natural it felt. He liked having his arm around her. He tried to keep his smile from growing too wide.

^+^+^

Almost two days had passed since Percy and Annabeth had run from the cops. They had continued to move through the city, making their way to the very tip of Long Island. They had roughly two more days to go before they would make it to Montauk, and Camp Halfblood.

That was what she wanted to talk to Percy about now. She had just finished taking some more notes on the city, specifically the architecture of certain buildings that had caught her eye. She looked over to where Percy was sitting in his blanket, fidgeting with some trinket he had stolen earlier. He looked childlike, almost, and it made her a little sad that she had to have the oncoming conversation with him.

"Percy," she said, a little more grimly than she had intended. He looked up at her, his eyes wide in curiosity.

"Yeah?"

Annabeth took a seat next to him on the blanket. "You know we're almost to Camp Halfblood," she said. It was less of a question but not exactly a statement.

"Mhm," he answered, looking back to his toy for a moment. "We have like, what, two days?"

"Yeah," she answered. "But we have to talk about what we're gonna do," she paused for a moment, and that was when Percy seemed to realize the seriousness of this talk. They locked eyes. "If it's not real."

It was slight, barely noticeable, but Annabeth caught how Percy's face fell. He looked exactly how she felt when she remembered the possibility that the camp might not exist. Her heart ached at that, but fluttered at how Percy had gotten her to believe in it, after she had been so dismissive of and indifferent to the entire idea; too whimsical, but in actuality, too good to be true.

One thing she had realized, however, was that there was nothing about Percy that was too good to be true. Everything about him was real and genuine, even when things got a little awkward or stiff. He never lied to her or tried to put on a show–he was breathtaking all on his own. That was why she wasn't surprised by the pang in her heart when his eyes dulled in seriousness.

"Yeah..." he sighed. "I had kinda forgotten about that," he said, with a slight chuckle and an undertone of sadness. "Do you know what we're gonna do?"

"Ironically enough, that was the one thing I didn't make a plan for," she answered, slightly joking.

Percy cracked a small smile at that, and she was glad to see it. "That is ironic," he agreed. She chuckled. "Well... what do you want to do?" he asked carefully, the words coming on slowly. The city was loud outside the alley, but sitting there together, they seemed to be in their own bubble of quiet.

Annabeth opened her mouth to speak, but then faltered a moment. What did she want to do? Did she really want to keep running forever? No. She knew she wanted to stay with Percy. If she had to run, it wouldn't be so bad if it were with him. But could she say that? What if he didn't want the same? But after all they had been through, she decided that was a stupid thought. She wasn't going to bite her tongue–she already had too many times.

"I wanna stay with you," she said, simply. The words had seemed so big, looming around in her head, swelling in her chest until she couldn't breathe, but when she said them, it was simple. Each syllable rolled off of her tongue easily, naturally. It felt natural to be with Percy.

"I wanna stay with you," he answered, just as simply. There was no hesitation, there was no reservation, there was no bitter inflection in his voice. It was easy, it sounded natural.

Annabeth held back her smile and tried to mask her relief. She nodded. "Alright. I think no matter what happens," she started. "And I'm gonna hate myself for saying this," she interjected and Percy laughed. "We'll be okay, as long as we're together."

Percy nodded. "As long as we're together. Deal?"

"Deal." She nodded back.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment longer. The beating in her chest told her to lean in, to kiss him, but she knew that it wasn't the time; she didn't need to. She realized that whether she was in love with him or not, the most important thing in her life was him, and there was nothing she would do to risk what they had. Maybe one day, but not now; she had the rest of their lives for that.

"On a serious note though," Percy started, and Annabeth could feel a joke coming on, "We should get a van."

She busted out a laugh, full and happy. "That idea actually isn't half bad."

"I know! And then I say we find a dog–"

"Now that's where I draw the line," she interrupted.

"What? No dog? How could you say no? That would be awesome!" he protested.

"You're our dog," she teased.

Percy scoffed in offense, and she held back a smile. "Fine then, I'll live on my own," he threatened.

"Yeah right, you wouldn't last a day on your own," she insulted facetiously.

Percy laughed in almost exasperation, "You couldn't survive without me."

Annabeth rolled her eyes and swatted his arm. "Fuck you," she laughed.

He laughed with her.

^+^+^

"PERCY!" Annabeth screamed.

No, no, no, she thought frantically, a never ending mantra as she tried to make it to him. She had to get there, she needed to save him, but she wasn't moving fast enough. Come on, she forced herself forward, to hobble faster. The pain in her thigh was blaring now, licking up her spine and down to her ankle, spreading everywhere like fire. Her vision was starting to blur, black and yellow spots dancing through and making it hard to stand. Keep going, she ordered herself.

The Minotaur was getting closer and closer to him, almost barreling at him now–she needed to get there, to stop it. Why couldn't she move faster? He was going to die and she was going to watch because she couldn't get there for him. No, she said. I have to do something.

"HEY!" she started screaming, anything she could think of to distract it. "HEYYY!!!" she kept yelling, and it felt like her vocal chords were ripping apart in her throat, scratchy and exerted. "Please," she sobbed. Percy could do nothing, lying there at the bottom of the hill, unconscious. He looked peaceful somehow. A chilling thought crept into her mind, the thought that maybe at least if he died it wouldn't be in pain, but she pushed it away. He was not going to die–not after all they had been through. Not after everything that they had overcome.

"Almost there," she muttered. The Minotaur was getting ready to charge now, steam billowing around his head. Twenty feet away. Then ten. Then five. She could make it.

The Minotaur began to charge.

Annabeth started running.

She had not a single clue as to how she did it, but suddenly the pain throughout her body dulled to a faint buzz and she could move nimbly, quickly, as she needed. She was light on her feet, almost impossibly challenging gravity. The hairs on her neck stood on end and her skin felt warm, but not in the damp, humid way left in the wake of her sweat. Her mind was clear and her vision sharpened once more. Later, she would accredit this to some kind of godly intervention, and while she had never really prayed before, she thanked whoever it was. She sprinted to the Minotaur as fast as she possibly could.

With a wail worthy of starting a world war, Annabeth vaulted from the ground and onto the Minotaur's back just as he began to lean over Percy, who was just starting to come to consciousness. She reached her arm around his thick, furry neck, holding her dagger across his throat, her left hand grabbing the blade itself. With all her might, she tugged, yanking the beast back and away from Percy, who writhed as he began to come to.

Annabeth continued pulling, feeling nothing despite the blade of her dagger slicing into her palm. After some effort, she realized she wasn't going to be able to slit the Minotaur's throat; its matted fur was too thick.

But then she felt a large hand finally grab hold of her leg and tug, almost pulling her completely off his back. She lost her grip around his neck, but gripped onto what she could–his horns. His hand tightened around her leg and he blew more steam up into her face–it was not a pleasant smell. Annabeth was holding on as tight as she could, but she knew she could only last so long. She needed to hurt him badly enough so she could get close enough to end this.

That was when she caught sight of Percy at the corner of her eye. He was kneeling now, fixing to stand. He looked rough, his stance staggered, but he was alive and Annabeth couldn't have asked for more. She locked eyes with him and she saw his determination; he wasn't finished fighting, not yet.

Suddenly, a plan formed in her head. She met his eyes and pulled on the Minotaur's horns. A look of understanding passed over his face. "WHEN I SAY!" she yelled to him over the huffing and grunting of the monster. He nodded.

Mustering all her strength and tightening her grip on one horn, Annabeth readied herself. She kicked off the Minotaur's back, weighing his head down and pulling him off balance toward the ground.

"NOW!"

Percy charged.

Annabeth knew she was witnessing something she would never forget the sight of for as long as she lived.

Percy ran forward, bringing his sword down at the base of the Minotaur's horn. He swung all the way through, cutting the horn clean off and diving into a roll underneath the beast's head and right before where Annabeth stood. She fell back at the release of the horn, crimson blood splattering her face, clothes, and hair. She hit the ground with a thud as the loudest sound she'd ever heard rang through the air; the Minotaur bellowed and wailed in excruciating pain. He was now on his back, writhing and bleeding, his other horn cracked. But it wasn't over. He began to roll over, pushing himself off the ground and staggering to standing upright.

Percy ran over to Annabeth's side as the Minotaur leaned back, blew steam, roared, and pounded on it's bulging chest. Annabeth and Percy looked at each other and exchanged a grave nod; it was time to finish this.

The Minotaur started to run at them for the final time, grunting and snorting. Percy and Annabeth charged forward. And there they were, moving around each other like water, perfectly in sync, knowing the other's every move and motion.

Annabeth slid down and around on one knee, slicing the Minotaur's leg and getting him to fall to a knee. Percy jumped and swung his sword, stabbing it straight through the Minotaur's chest, the celestial bronze blade glowing as it sliced down through the beast.

The Minotaur fell back, bellowing one last time before they were surrounded by nothing but crimson feathers. Annabeth sat on the ground, catching her breath and staring at Percy where he sat on his knees. Neither of them had the words to speak, and in the absence of grunting and huffing, their heavy breaths were the only noise taking up the space of the hillside.

Finally, Percy made his way to Annabeth, sitting before her and saying nothing, but pulling her into his chest. She returned the embrace, grateful to be alive, grateful to be with him.

"We did it," she whispered, her voice hoarse and nearly gone from screaming. Percy sniffled and she felt him nod. Slowly and carefully, they got up, leaning on each other for support. Whatever divine adrenaline Annabeth had been running on before was gone now, and every part of her body ached or burned or stung, especially her broken leg. She was somehow able to limp over to where she had dropped the Minotaur horn, picking up the bloodied appendage and examining the cracks.

"I think this belongs to you," she said, turning back to Percy. She felt a sense of pride holding it, a trophy of their victory, of every victory. A testament to how far they had come, to all they persevered through.

He carefully took it from her, those deadly hands gentle with the ivory. "It belongs to us." She tried to grin at him, a grin of pride. She nodded her head. Then, he came to her side, looping an arm under hers and letting her lean on him. They made their way towards the hill, looming in the distance.

Annabeth examined the pine tree that stood atop it, and there was something luminous about how lush it was. She hoped with every particle of her being that this camp was real. It filled her with a sense of anxiety, apprehension; whatever lied just over that hill would decide her entire future.

They finally came to a stop when they almost reached the summit. Percy looked over at Annabeth and she exhaled the breath she had been holding. Her mind was too busy, too nervous, to feel all the pain she should have been feeling.

"Ready?" Percy asked. She could see the excitement, the nervousness in his eyes.

She took his hand. "I'm ready," she answered with a definite nod.

They took a few more steps, and Annabeth's life changed forever.

At the top of the hill, Annabeth could see out over everything. There were rolling strawberry fields, a forest far off, buildings and people everywhere. Everyone had on the same orange t-shirt, and it took Annabeth a moment to realize what it said: Camp Halfblood. A sob escaped her lips. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. It was real. She could barely believe it. She was certain her heart had stopped beating for a moment; maybe she had died and this was the afterlife. But Percy's hand in hers felt too real.

Tears began streaking her face. She looked over at Percy, and his face broke into a teary grin. He pulled her into a hug and she squeezed him tight. Through her sobs of relief, she was just barely able to get the words out: "We don't have to run anymore." They were broken, but they were true, and Annabeth's heart burst at the fact that she never thought she would be able to say them. She held Percy, pulling him as close as possible. She had never been so grateful, so happy to be alive in her life.

They finally pulled away and Annabeth looked back out at the camp. It was incredible. The sky was blue and sunny, kids of all ages were laughing and playing and training. As she took it all in, she somehow tried to comprehend the idea that this could be home.

Annabeth had never pictured her future; being a demigod, she wasn't allowed to believe in the hope of having one. But standing on the hill, looking down over the camp with Percy's hand in hers, she started to see everything she could want. If only she could tell her seven year old self how worth it it would be to keep trying. Because her future, well, it was beautiful and, for once, it was full of promise.

That was around when people began to notice that they were standing atop the hill. It started with a few points and whispers, but then escalated to all eyes on them. Annabeth could only imagine how they looked; bruised, bloodied, and leaning on each other with a twenty-inch horn in hand. They must have been horrified and perplexed. But that was when she noticed someone coming from a large, blue, Victorian style house off to the right.

But this someone happened to have a mighty, white stallion for their bottom half. If Annabeth hadn't fought a creature with the legs and head of a bull but the torso of a man a few moments ago, she probably would have dropped on the spot. Instead, she stared in anticipation as they waited for him to reach them. Percy's grip tightened slightly on her hand and she felt her pulse accelerate ever so slightly.

The centaur finally made it up the hill to them, his face middle aged but somehow wise with millennia of experience. He looked down at them with a look that she couldn't quite place; it wasn't happy, or confused, or horrified, or surprised. It was a look somewhat knowing, with the wisps of a smile almost welcoming. She readied herself for what he would say, hanging on the words that might change her life.

"Welcome to Camp Halfblood."

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