Chapter Text
He shouldn't be alive.
That was the first thing Percy thought as he came to, in a strange steam-filled room, his body aching and his heart absolutely breaking.
They had lost, and by all accounts, Percy shouldn't be alive.
But somehow, he was, and...
He was alone.
I shouldn't be alive.
Why did he get to live when they didn't? When he had failed them? Clarisse, Grover, Tyson, Annabeth... He'd failed him, and he was alone, and-and he shouldn't be alive.
But here he was, breathing all the same, when they weren't anymore.
Percy sat up slowly, his muscles aching and heart screaming with every movement, just another reminder of what had happened. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the tears, as he caught his breath.
What did he do next? What could he do? Without his friends, what was there even left to fight for?
He should just lie here and wait for the same fate to come claim him. He should've never let Annabeth or Tyson come on the quest with him. He should have been better-
"Percy?"
He froze.
And there, in the fog, was an outline he would know anywhere, slipping around the edges of the room like water.
"A-Annabeth?" His voice cracked on her name, like a plea, a prayer, with hope so painful it seared through his veins like ambrosia. "Annabeth, is that you?"
Annabeth came into focus a moment later, her hair frizzy from the steam, a dark bruise along her jawline, and her dark eyes intesne with relief, and alive. She was alive. "Oh, thank the gods. I've been trying to scout ahead, but the door is locked, and you weren't waking up, and-"
Percy didn’t register her words-or anything else, actually-as she rambled on, because he was too busy glancing up and down her frame, checking for any injuries and to make sure she was actually there, that she was alive- dark eyes intense with relief and as the breath was knocked out of him, her intense eyes staring into him, here and alive. His eyes flicked up and down her body, looking for injuries, to make sure she was actually there, she was alive–
“Annabeth,” he rasped. “You’re…”
The words died in his throat. Annabeth’s brow pinched.
“I woke up about fifteen minutes before you,” she responded, turning to the window and stepping away and where was she going? “I was securing the room–”
Percy cut her off by crushing her in a hug.
Her breath caught as he wrapped her up in his arms, a strangled sob of relief tearing out of his throat like a knife. Percy pressed a hand between her shoulder blades, like his touch would be enough shield her from the dangers of the world, like she was his only anchor in this miserable sea, like she was the only thing that mattered. Because, in this moment, she was.
Every inch of him still ached with the lingering loss of their friends, but a piece of the grief slipped off his shoulders like water with the confirmation that Annabeth was okay. The world could be ending, but as long as Annabeth was alive and in his arms, that was enough to keep his heart beating.
After a long, trembling exhale, her hands carefully threaded around his midsection. “Percy? Are... are you okay?”
He cupped the back of her neck, ever careful of her braids, but pressed his palm against her skin anyway, drinking in her warmth, her life, because she was alive.
“I thought I lost you,” he breathed as a tear slipped down his cheek. He shuddered and choked back a sob. "I thought-" Annabeth's grip on his jacket tightened. “Oh, gods, Annabeth, I thought–”
“I’m fine, Seaweed Brain,” she murmured, a shaky breath puffing against his shoulder. “If anything, I was the one who thought-" She gasped, desperate and heartbroken, her hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt "Y-you scared me, when you wouldn’t wake up, and-"
She was shaking, shoulders heaving with too shallow breaths, and Percy was pretty sure his heart broke all over again.
Was that why his ribs were aching? Why could he feel the ghost of her hands on his chest? Had she tried to breathe life back into him when she woke up, urging him to take breath again? Or was that just the piece of his heart that she resided in, carving a wound through his soul whenever she was gone?
Had the thought of his death nearly destroyed her, like the idea of hers nearly shattered him?
"Hey, hey, I'm okay, we're okay," Percy whispered, running his thumb across the base of her head. Trying to give her some sense of relief, trying to convince the both of them that they were okay. He squeezed his eyes shut as grief thundered around them like a stampede of horses. "I-I'm sorry. Annabeth, I'm so sorry." Sorry that he couldn’t save Tyson, sorry that he couldn’t keep them safe, sorry that he scared her, sorry for everything.
But then-
“Me, too,” she whispered.
And that just wouldn't do.
Percy finally pulled back so he could look at her. His hand cupped the back of her neck as their eyes met, a clash of love and grief.
“No, no, Annabeth, it wasn’t your fault,” he insisted. “There’s no way you could’ve–”
“But I should have,” Annabeth cut in. “I should have seen it coming, I should have had a plan, I should have been better–”
“Annabeth.” How could she say that, when she was perfect as she was? Flaws and infuriating tendencies to keep secrets and all? When she was everything? “Annabeth, you did everything you could, and I could never blame you for that. So you shouldn’t, either.”
She shook her head, eyes dropping to the ground as her face crumbled in misery. “You’re not the one who’s a daughter of Athena. I'm supposed to be better than this.”
“Maybe not, but I am the son of Poseidon, and I got taken out by the sea itself." Percy shook her, just a little bit, enough to elicit a small chuckle. “Listen, if anyone’s a failure here, it’s me. And we both know how stupid I can be, so how about you stop with the self-blame and figure out a way to get us out of here already.”
She sniffed. “Yeah, okay.” She glanced up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, Percy."
And that just made it all worth hit, didn't it? "Always."
He wasn't sure who moved first, but in seconds, they were leaning into each other again, clinging onto each other like they were the last particle of sanity in the universe. Percy closed his eyes and let out a breath as he felt Annabeth's heartbeat, strong and steady, underneath his hands.
She was alive. Against all odds, they were both alive.
And, even as they got rudely interrupted by a very awkward spa lady, Percy held the memory of her heartbeat in his mind and promised that he would never let it die.
Percy shouldn't be alive right now, but as long as he was?
He'd keep Annabeth safe, even if it was the last thing he'd do.