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For all Percy was forced into a coma for 6 months by the Cow Bitch Hera, and finally got his wish of dreamless sleep (though he never would have wanted it like this), Percy was at least thankful that Hera, or whatever god, let Percy keep his memories of Annabeth.
It was what kept Percy going when he was homeless for two months. He thought of the one thing he could faintly remember; it was like a flickering light in the darkness — her.
Annabeth was Percy’s literally mortal lifeline. It’s what kept the curse of Achilles’ tied to his mortal spot, it was her. Percy still felt that power thrumming through his veins, his invincible skin.
But when Percy finally saw her, her golden hair and tanned skin shining like the sun and her grey eyes brilliant and shining and looking at him. Percy forgot all of his praetor duties and all his powers, for he was powerless before her, and ran towards Annabeth — his lifeline, his love, his soulmate.
Percy was a breath away from Annabeth, their breaths intermingling. Percy looked at Annabeth in adoration and pulled a bit away studying Annabeth’s face like she was the most precious treasure, “Gods, I never thought-”
<3 <3 <3
It’s been 8 months of desperately searching for her boyfriend, her seaweed brain.
Annabeth lost so much sleep, and her plans as the Architect of Olympus practically went down the drain. Her hair was greasy, and she had eyebags under her eyes.
She needed to find Percy; she needed him. He was her life saving medicine that she could never go without. Percy was the bronze to her brain; they complimented and completed one another like two puzzle pieces.
Then, Athena, or rather Minerva, came to Annabeth and asked Annabeth to kill the Romans. The Romans which were now the people that Annabeth knew Percy was with because of Jason. Jason, who was a Roman leader and was switched with Percy, a Greek leader, all because of some brilliant plan that the Cow Queen thought of.
Gods, just because Annabeth finally spoke her mind to the goddess! Seaweed brain really rubbed off on her, his all talking off to the gods!
It was this rebelliousness that Percy inspired that once again lead Annabeth to say no to her mother, like all the other times Athena brought up dumping Percy.
Except this time, her mother was furious, her grey eyes glinting like steel, and she disowned Annabeth, and Annabeth’s one treasured magic artifact, her Yankees cap, was turned useless.
Annabeth was so angry and so sad. Her mother just disowned her!
Seaweed brain better be grateful! After all, she was doing this for him like how she carried him through all their quests! Gods, Annabeth just hoped Percy would be able to survive without her.
At least Annabeth wouldn’t have to worry about Percy getting another partner like Jason did with her best friend Piper.
After all, Annabeth is pretty confident that muscle memory would kick in if he gets too close to others. Just as she discouraged Percy from getting too close to Rachel.
It’s how Piper and Annabeth became friends, talking about how they would keep their boyfriends in line. Piper spoke about how Jason sometimes needed a little encouragement when he didn’t act like the perfect boyfriend, and charmspeaking was the perfect medium to do so. Piper even offered to do the same to Percy when they got him back.
Annabeth also really liked how Piper referred to Percy as Annabeth's dog that needed a leash to be restrained when he stepped out of line.
Percy is hers, and no one else's. After all, it wasn’t tales of Percy’s heroics being told at Camp Half-Blood. No, it was how Percy was Annabeth’s boyfriend.
Annabeth made sure that everyone knew that he was hers. Besides, Percy doesn’t need to be known as anything else. It was Annabeth that did the most work on all the quests after all! But did she get called a Hero of Olympus, no!
At least she gets to be the Architect of Olympus. But no, probably not anymore after Athena, Minerva — whatever, disowned her. All because of Percy. Because he left her!
Thus, when Annabeth saw Percy all handsome and taller than she remembered and draped in that awful purple like the Romans owned him, like that girl dressed in purple owned him. That girl that was too close to her seaweed brain, for Annabeth’s liking.
He was going to leave her! Just like Luke and everyone else!
Except, Annabeth saw the moment when Percy turned his bright green eyes toward her. Saw all that love he held for her, and Annabeth's heart pounded in her chest.
Percy ran towards Annabeth, and Annabeth found herself running as well. Annabeth needed him! He couldn’t leave!
Annabeth and Percy were so close that their breaths intermingled like they were one organism and not two. Then, Percy pulled away. No! You can’t leave! Blood rushed to Annabeth’s ears, her heart pouding loudly so she couldn't hear as Percy said in a soft voice, “Gods, I never thought-”
Percy couldn’t leave! And so Annabeth grabbed Percy’s wrist and flipped him over her shoulder. Percy slammed into the stone pavement.
Annabeth barely acknowledged the Hunters of Artemis that they came with and some Romans cried out. Some surged forward, but Artemis shouted, “Hold! Stand down!”
Annabeth didn’t pay them any attention, only having eyes for her boyfriend. His eyes still dazed from him slamming hard into the concrete. His handsome, beautiful, enraging face that was hers.
Annabeth put her knee on Percy’s chest. She pushed her forearm against his throat. She didn’t care what the Hunters of Artemis thought. A white-hot lump of anger expanded in her chest. A tumor of worry and bitterness that she had been carrying since the dance at Westover.
Ever since she punched Percy in the stomach to dance with her. Ever since then, she knew. She knew Percy was hers.
“If you ever leave me again,” She said, her eyes stinging, “I swear to all the gods.”
Except, when Annebeth stared into Percy’s eyes, they weren’t just dazed. No, they were dimming, like he was mortally injured.
There was a moment of silence that seemed to draw out for eternity. Then, dawning horror. Percy was slammed on his back. No! Annabeth gasped in terror.
Annabeth remembered almost a year ago, Percy leading her hand to the small of his back. The place where Percy’s invulnerable skin was vulnerable. Where he would die if that spot of hit.
Then, in Percy’s last breath, as his eyes dimmed further, he said, “Why?”
Annabeth was in shock. Then, she screamed like she was dying! He left her! He died! She killed him!
Annabeth felt arms on her dragging her away from her seaweed brain.
Annabeth punched and kicked wildly around. No! She couldn’t leave. P-percy was fine! She could save him!
Annabeth only had eyes for Percy as she was forcefully dragged from him. She grabbed her dagger and swung it wildly around, but it was slammed out of her hand.
“No! Stop, I can help him! He’s not dead! He’s not!” Annabeth screamed, but then she felt something slam into her head.
Annabeth’s vision started to grow dark, and she heard the clinging of chains before her, but still all she could look at was Percy’s dead body. Something cold slipped on her wrists and the dark and venomous voice of a goddess, Artemis, in her ear before the darkness overtook her, “For the murder of Perseus Jackson, the hero of Olympus, you are hereby a traitor of the gods!”
Artemis sneered at the spawn of Athena. Look at her, the Goddess of the Hunt, caring more for a man than a woman. A man who knew only kindness in his heart, despite all he’s suffered. Artemis felt tears welling up in her eyes and let them fall hidden when the storm started to rage on Camp Jupiter.
The Stormbringer making his fury and anguish known.
The gods were angry. Despite all them claiming to not like the son of Poseidon. They all, well most of them, came to care in their own way. There has never been a mortal like Perseus, and there likely will never be one like him again, lest he chooses to forgo his rightful place in Elysium for reincarnation.
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Percy was shocked as he was slammed into the ground. He didn’t even realize at first that the small of his back was hit. But then, just like Luke he felt himself begin to fade and fade fast.
Percy felt tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t want to die!
He wanted to see his mom again! And Paul! And Grover!
This wasn’t real! This wasn’t happening!
He wasn’t going to die at sixteen!
Like so many half-bloods before him. It was inevitable.
Percy looked up to Annabeth, hauntingly beautiful like an Angel of Death.
All Percy could choke up, his throat constricted by Annabeth was, “Why?”
Then, everything all around Percy faded. He no longer felt pain, but then he gasped. Breathes filled his lungs once again, and his heart beat in his chest. Percy was alive!
But then, he saw Annabeth again, and terror stuck in his chest as fast as lightning. But then, Percy didn’t see Annabeth’s golden hair. No, this girl had black hair and golden bracers adoring her form.
Her face is void of scars and her grey eyes glinting at Percy like all the times before when she had a plan. Like when he was set up as bait when he was twelve, a lamb offered on the Altar.
Percy went to step back as he saw that look in her eyes, a reminder of his death, but his step felt like he was pushing through a dense substance. He was underwater!
Percy barely had the chance to acknowledge that when the black-haired Annabeth swung a giant spear towards him. Percy ducked, and he got back up and said in a playful voice that was higher, more feminine than his own, “I know that you’re planning something, Athena!”
Athena, not Annabeth, laughed and smiled, “Well Pallas, I guess you'll have to figure it out!”
Except everything went wrong, and Pallas, or rather Percy in Pallas’ body, started to win. His/her training is paying off.
Percy felt like himself (herself?), but at the same time didn’t. He had a mer tail, and was using a triton, like he has used them his whole life. It felt natural. It felt right.
He pressed Athena to the defensive, laughing that he might actually win for once, memories of sparing like this all the time flitting past Percy.
Thus, he didn’t even see when Athena’s face grew pinched, and rage began to grow in her prideful eyes.
Here, Percy saw an opening when Athena raised her spear high and rushed in. Except just at that moment, the spear glinted in the sunlight from the swallow court in which they were sparring.
Percy was blinded, and covered his bright blue eyes like deep sea, and in the next moment all he felt was pain.
Percy screamed and cried; the spear embedded in his chest.
Percy choked out ichor, gold seeping from his blue scales and into the ocean water.
All Percy, Pallas, could do was look up to their foster sister and crush in betrayal and asked, “Why?”
And darkness once again overtook them. Percy/Pallas heard whispering in his, their, her ear. “Perseus, or would you prefer Pallas? Are you ready?” A deep voice, smooth as honey said, kindly.
“I d-don’t know.” They said and looked at the figure. His skin was dark ebony with golden eyes like a firefly's light, and hair light grey like ashes of fire. Great feathered black wings protruded from his back, from his black robe, chiton, they revealed half of his muscled chest.
“That’s alright, I’m sure that you’ll figure it out.” Death, Thanatos, said.
Of course, their luck never was that good, and as they reached their hand out — wanting to take Death’s hand once again — the inky black world swirled around them, and the smell of dirt filled their breath and cascading on their tongue and down their throat and to their lungs.
They were drowning!
They just wanted it all to end!
Please…
“Don’t worry, it’ll end soon, my dear.” The voice rang all around, and inside of them, rumbling and deep and ancient and they let the waves of darkness envelop them.