#frozen2s

Annabeth curls her knees up to her chest and she settles her head down, one hand drifting mindlessly through the sand. It takes her a minute to realize she was doodling Percy’s features, nothing really distinct. Just the sharp line of a jaw, the swoop of his hair, the curve of his smile. It hasn’t been long since the funeral, since she gripped Percy’s shroud in her hands and watched as everyone bowed their head and spoke a prayer when it caught flame, but she’s so scared of forgetting his face. She wipes away the sand on her bare calves, letting it stick to her even if the coarseness of it makes her itch under her skin. 

She can’t help but remember the last time his funeral happened, years ago when they were both just teens, and Percy barged in on his shroud burning. Gods, the anger left as quickly as it appeared, too busy drowning in relief at the sight of him. She remembers those weeks after she left Percy to die on that mountain, remembers how she thought with a bitter tinge of regret that he wasn’t her soulmate, but he was her best friend and she lost him and it took everything in her not to break down because it was her fault. 

Then he came back. But he’s not coming back this time. Not even if she begs the gods, travels down to Hades to bargain for his soul herself. She’s not Orpheus and he’s not Eurydice and they’re not a tragedy or some messed up story that can be solved with a few tricks and pretty words. 

Percy’s dead.  

He said the last words etched into the fabric of her skin. That’s more permanent than death. 

His words ache on the side of her ribs, burning a little. It’s nothing she hasn’t dealt with before, so she just shifts quietly to ease the pain. 

There’s a crash of a wave that’s louder in her ears and somebody sits next to her. She doesn’t turn her head from her view of the sea. Bits of sun peaks through the gray skies and it hits the water, bouncing the light back up to her own gaze. The ocean today is a few shades off from Percy’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Poseidon says, something caught in his throat. Annabeth ignores it and nods in acknowledgement. 

She coughs. “I’m sorry for yours too.”

They stay silent and the waves recede even more, not like when Percy does it. He restrains it so much when he’s emotional, it roars back at him, a perfect representation of his own thoughts. Today though, it’s not suppressed and bubbling and ready to strike out again. It’s just sad.  

“He’s probably waiting in Elysium.” The for you is implied, but she hears it all the same. 

“You knew?” she asks, spreading her legs out in front of her. She risks a glance at Poseidon and, fuck, it hurts so much to see Percy in him. She adds, almost casually if it’s not for her eyes stinging from the tears she’s holding back, “That we’re soulmates. Were soulmates.”

“It’s not a known fact, but we can sense soulmates. Not to the extent that Aphrodite does, but the stronger the bond, the more apparent it is.”

“How long have you known?”

“Oh, early on,” he says, giving her a gentle smile. “Perhaps when you were dancing back in Olympus. The first time, mind you.”

The laugh that leaves her chest is a little wobbly. She wipes her tears away swiftly. “I miss him. So much.”

“I do too.”

“I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without him,” she says, her hands trembling. “He had so many years left, so many left—” with me. “A-and now I have to live without him? Stupid Seaweed Brain. He could’ve at least waited a few more damn years! Demigods don’t live long anyway, I’d probably get killed by some rogue monster.” 

In a fit of childish anger, she throws some sand at the sea. It doesn’t help. She huffs out an exasperated breath and lays down, throwing an arm over her eyes. The sand tickles at her scalp and she can feel a lump of slimy seaweed near her arm. 

Stupid seaweed. 

Her chest shakes with silent sobs and Poseidon taps at her shoulder, giving her time to grieve. And she has time. All the time, without Percy. 

Annabeth sends a prayer to Percy and thinks, I’ll see you later.

It must’ve been the wind, but she can almost hear a voice call back: Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. 

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Annabeth finds Percy in the crowd and jumps into his awaiting arms, ignoring any odd stares that’s sent her way. He lifts her up off her feet and twirls her around before kissing the tip of her nose. He grins widely, his dimple widening and she presses her lips to it. 

“Missed you,” she says into his cheek. 

“Missed you too, baby,” he says, then whispers, “How’s Olympus holding up?”

She rolls her eyes and threads her arm through Percy’s, gripping at his elbow as they start walking down to their apartment. “You’d think after fifteen years, they’d finally stop arguing about statute placements. Anyway, forget that. Who are we meeting today for dinner? Is it Demeter’s kids or Apollo’s?” 

“Neither, it’s Nike’s kids today.”

Percy makes it a tradition to bring some of the kids out one day of the week to Sally’s for a wellness check-up and ask if they need a place to crash while some transition out of camp back into the world. Annabeth thinks it’s sweet that Percy’s such a caring camp counselor. She knows if someone ever did that for her back when she was a year-round camper, she’d cry. As much as she loves it (and she does, enough to share some of Percy’s camp duties when she has some free time during summer), it’s rather isolating. 

While they’re walking, they hear the sound of metal and hissing and they take one look at each other before they run towards the alleyway. 

It’s one of the kids, bruised up and bleeding, but her sword’s still up despite her whole arm shaking. The kid’s eyes catch Percy’s and her body relaxes slightly, but enough for the empousa on the far right to begin striking. 

Percy quickly uncaps riptide and intercepts it. His movements are sure and steady, moving his body in front of the kid’s. Annabeth flicks her wrist and her knife comes down easily in her hand. She circles the next two empousi on the left and manages to kill one by surprise. Annabeth’s lucky she’s wearing a simple tee and jeans instead of her usual outfit whenever she goes up to Olympus. There’s way too many for one kid and her mind whirs with hundreds of possible answers as to why there’s a hoard near Sally’s apartment tonight. Despite her thoughts, she manages to gut another one while Percy’s fighting off two more and the kid another. 

In what seems like a split second, the kid screams and Percy turns around and blocks the attack that would’ve gone through the kid’s heart. But as he does so, his back turns against the other two and Annabeth rushes to fight them off because, dammit, she should’ve had his back. In a panic, she throws her knife and it lodges into one of their heads, leaving her knife clattering on the ground surrounded by dust. But she’s too late. Gods, she’s too late. 

Annabeth picks her knife back up, but the empousa tears a whole through Percy’s side, just as he kills the one targeting the kid. Annabeth yells, feral and wild, and slits the empousa’s throat, the last of their gurgling laugh dying as they turn to dust. 

Percy slumps to the floor and Annabeth rushes to him. She pats at her pockets for her emergency stash of ambrosia, but they’re flat. She turns towards the kid, frantic, and orders, “Run back to Sally’s and grab the ambrosia.”

The kid’s eyes were flickering towards Percy’s stomach. Frightened. Annabeth doesn’t have the guts to admit that she’s frightened too. “Go.”

The kid runs and Annabeth’s attention is back to Percy who’s shivering. They have no water, no ambrosia, and they’re in the middle of a damn alleyway and he’s bleeding out so fast. Shit. 

“Percy,” she says, trembling. “Can you move? We have to move, baby.”

“Can’t,” he grits out. He lets out a forced laugh. “Think my insides are gonna pop out.”

Annabeth’s vision is blurry and she can’t fucking see anything. She shudders in a breath and tries to gently hold Percy together. “Percy, please. Please, this can’t be how it ends. You’re supposed to be with me forever.”

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, baby. My—fuck, my forever isn’t that long. Glad I spent it with you.”

“We have to get out of here,” she mutters, leaning down and pressing her forehead to his. Her tears fall on his cheeks. She repeats, “We have to get out of here.”

There’s something unbearably sad in Percy’s gaze. The hand that’s not pressed to his stomach reaches up and tucks her hair back. It falls back down, too weak to hold itself up any longer. “Everything will be alright. It’s okay, Annabeth. Everything will be alright.”

She shakes her head and sobs.

Those are the words tattooed on her ribs. When she reaches up again to say more, Percy’s eyes were glazed and distant, staring up at the gloomy sky. 

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

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icon: debut | fearless | speak now | red | 1989 | reputation | lover | folklore

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content: debut | fearless | speak now | red | 1989 | reputation | lover | folklore

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icon: debut | fearless | speak now | red | 1989 | reputation | lover | folklore

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theme: debut | fearless | speak now | red | 1989 | reputation | lover | folklore

content: debut | fearless | speak now | red | 1989 | reputation | lover | folklore