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Death can be awfully slow sometimes.
There are many moments between the one where Luke loses consciousness and the one where he dies. He takes several long, hollow breaths, eyes fixed on the ceiling, before his chest falls one last time. Percy stares, terrified there will be another.
The world is quiet and still, save for Annabeth and Grover's quiet sobs. This is it, right? Percy wants to ask. He's so terrified that he feels like his body might come apart, but his heart still races with adrenaline.
More seconds pass and he decides it is really over. Percy reaches out a shaking hand and shuts Luke's eyelids, mostly because he can't look him in the eyes anymore.
Suddenly, Annabeth lets go of Luke's hand like it burns her. She moves back slowly, eyes wide on the pool of blood growing under the body.
"What do we do?" Grover asks.
Percy blinks and turns to look at him. Right, yes. What do they do? "Is there something else?"
"What?" Grover asks. "No, like, what are we gonna do do? What are we supposed to do next?"
Percy's not sure. Next? He doesn't understand. Next wasn't part of the plan, he's thrown off because… well, because—
"I'm not dead," he says to no one in particular.
Annabeth gasps quietly and Percy's eyes fly back to her. He can't quite believe what he's seeing. He's alive, she's alive. There's no unavoidable fork in the road careening in to part them. In the few moments of silence he's had in the past twenty-four hours, he thought about the fact that there would at least be an afterlife in which she'd eventually join him. Now, he doesn't have to wait for that.
Grover shakes Percy out of these thoughts by jumping across the small space between them hugging him more forcefully than Percy thought him capable. "Oh, my gods, you're not dead."
Tears finally start streaming down Percy's face. He's not dead, he's not fucking dead, he's breathing. He's alive! His arms fly around Grover and he cries into his shoulder, completely speechless. A few moments later, Grover moves back slightly so he can tug Annabeth along. Percy realizes she'd been watching them silently, as though she wasn't quite sure what she was looking at.
Grover holds them, one arm around each, Percy does the same. His forehead bumps against Annabeth's as she moves to hide her face in the crook of his shoulder, but her arms are limp next to her. It's then that Percy remembers one of them is broken, and that is likely one of many injuries she sustained.
A fierce mix of protectiveness, longing, and love washes over him. He needs to hold her close and never let go because if he does, he will die. He needs it, needs it, feels it like a volcano erupting at the center of his chest and taking over his entire body.
Percy doesn't let go of Annabeth, even when Grover shifts away. "I'm gonna—I need to go, um, find other people."
He scurries away. Percy thinks he nods in response, but he doesn't care about anything that isn't pulling Annabeth as close as possible without jostling her injured arm.
"Beth?" Percy calls, quietly. His voice is thick from crying? "Does it hurt really bad?"
She blinks up at him. "What?"
"Does your arm hurt?"
Annabeth silently looks down at herself. Percy feels a pang in his heart when he sees the forearm is still bent at an odd angle, but she doesn't seem to react to it all that much. She lifts a healthy hand to his shoulder, leans her weight against him as she shifts.
"Percy?"
"Yeah."
"Are we dead?"
"No." Percy sniffles. "We're okay."
"We are?"
"Yeah, we are."
"I…" she starts. Her eyes dart between his for a few seconds before she inhales loudly like she's just realized what has passed. "Oh, my gods!"
She leans sideways against him, maybe subconsciously keeping the painful arm at a distance while the other snakes around his waist. Percy nearly crushes her into his chest. Annabeth sobs loudly and he can't exactly tell if there are happy tears in the mix, but it's okay. She won't be out of his sight until she's okay again, no fucking way. It's Annabeth. Gods, it's Annabeth.
And Percy doesn't want her to let him go either. Needs her healed so she can hug him tight with both arms so maybe the pit in his stomach will fill up. Annabeth's always been the missing thing about him and he thought he'd die without ever letting her truly complete him. He wants to tell her he loves her. He wants to tell her she's the reason he survived, that he's going to spend the rest of his life repaying her. That she's the single most important thing in the world and he's sorry he didn't see it earlier.
"I'm—I'm sorry," he says.
"Stop," she says immediately. "No, you're here. Oh, my gods, Percy, you're here."
Only slightly, she pulls back. They are nose to nose, his arms still around her shoulders and hers around his back—covering his vulnerable spot, he notices. He feels as though he could break the Earth in half if she asked him to.
"Can you stay here?" she asks.
"I'm not going anywhere." He lifts a hand to her face and wipes a soot-streaked tear. "It's okay."
Annabeth nods slowly, breath still coming out in stutters. "Okay."
"I'm gonna stay with you."
"Okay. Yeah."
"Okay."
"Guys?" Grover calls, rushing back in.
Percy realizes he has no idea where he went. A little panic bubbles in his throat, he and Annabeth both rise. His arm remains firm around her shoulder.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, um." Grover looks over his shoulder. "The gods are coming back. It's over."