Note: Well here we are, guys. I'll start you off with a Hamlet quote I happen to love.

"My words fly up, my thoughts remain below,

Words without thoughts never to heaven go"

LOCAL TEEN IS SHOT TO DEATH ON CAMPUS

Last Saturday, sixteen year old Luke Castellan was shot by classmate Ethan Nakamura on their school grounds at Lord Cronus Institution. Nakamura had brought in a semi-automatic pistol with one round loaded into it. In a later interview, Nakamura stated that the gun was for "showing off" to the resident headmaster, Oras Titanus.

Nakamura is currently being detained and is awaiting arraignment. Titanus shares his student's predicament due to the implications he has caused at CHB, a neighboring school that was attacked the same day of the shooting. Dozens of thugs, believed to have been called together by Titanus, had stormed the school in hopes that the children's parents would pay a hefty ransom sum. With all the chaos at CHB, police had no time or resources to aid the injured Castellan at Lord Cronus Institution.

(continued on p.25)

~o~O~o~

The moment they walked into the small ceremony, all eyes were on them. Besides Ethan, Percy and Annabeth had been the only ones to witness Luke's final moments.

They gave their respects in awkward silence. The imposing casket loomed in front of them, perched on a small chapel altar. Percy closed his eyes and pretended to mourn, feeling like an outsider looking in. Cracking an eye open, he peered at Annabeth standing beside him. Her arms hung limply, clasped together with trembling fingers.

Looking at her, so broken and defeated, Percy was glad he'd offered to come.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, nudging her lightly.

She jumped a bit, as if she'd forgotten he was there. Not turning to face him, she nodded, eyes shut tight.

"Annabeth," a hoarse voice cried out before any reply could be made. It grew louder as its owner rushed towards them. "ANNABETH!"

Percy stared in shock at the mess of a person that was making its way towards them. This was the first time he'd seen her out of her uniform, and God above, she looked awful. Dark circles sagged from bloodshot eyes. Clothes hung limply on her, pitch black against her pale skin. She stormed closer, her electric blue eyes brimming with emotion.

"Thalia," Annabeth squeaked.

That was all the blonde could get out before she was attacked by the emotional hurricane that was Thalia Grace.

"You were there," Thalia mumbled, gripping Annabeth by the shoulders. "You were fucking THERE!"

"Hey," Percy cautioned. "Don't blame it all on her."

"Stay out of this, Jackson," the Hunter barked. "She was there, and she did nothing."

"You're right, Thalia," Annabeth croaked, voice hoarse. "I was there, and I couldn't save him."

Thalia's grip slackened at such a frank confession. She'd expected more of a fight.

Annabeth took a breath before she continued, "I couldn't save him because he saved me."

"Why was it his job to save you?" Thalia asked, shoulders heaving with the effort of holding back a scream. "He didn't have to do anything. He didn't have to be the hero…"

She slunk to her knees, dragging Annabeth down with her. The two sat huddled together, lost in their thoughts and unable to speak. A soft clicking wrenched them out of their stupor. Annabeth looked up, recognizing the sound of a wheelchair and expecting Chiron, and paled.

"Excuse me," May Castellan said, peering questioningly at them. "Are you three here to see Luke?"

"Yes," Annabeth managed to say, praying for once that Luke's mother wasn't lucid. She didn't think she could face Mrs. Castellan if she knew what has happening. "Yes we are."

"Thank you," May smiled. "He was such a good boy. Shame no one else could come."

They stayed there, caught in an awkward impasse, until May's twinkling eyes broke Annabeth down.

"I'm sorry," the blonde blurted out. "I'm sorry he's gone."

"Oh, don't fret," the adult shushed. "Anything anyone does has reason. Luke decided by himself that he would do this for me. I wish he hadn't, but I respect what he's done. Please don't hate him, I know a lot of people do right now…"

The words struck a chord somewhere deep in Annabeth, and she stood with a surge of energy. "I would never hate him!"

Percy stepped in to calm his tutor down, but something in Mrs. Castellan's words caught his attention. "Excuse me, ma'am, but did you say that Luke did it for you?"

"They tell me that I was sick," May started, a sad smile gracing her lips. "And that he made me better."

"B-but, there's no cure for Alzheimer's," Annabeth mumbled as Percy helped her up.

"Luke managed, like he always had," May replied, rolling herself closer to the trio. "Why don't the two of you go out for a breath of fresh air? Your friend here seems to need some peace and quiet."

Thalia stared up at the woman who she had seen so lost before. There was nothing clouded about May's eyes now. There was no confusion, no all-consuming grief. Just…love. Love for her life and the life that had been lost.

It had been a long time since Thalia had last cried. After losing her brother, she had never really had anyone to cry about. But there, on a small altar in a shabby chapel off the edge of New York, she sobbed.

Annabeth tried to reach for her friend, to help, to console. But Percy held her back.

"What can you do for her, Annabeth? You're hurting just as bad."

"No," Annabeth choked out, tears beginning to stain her cheeks. "She…she loved him more. She's hurting the most."

"Don't worry," May told the two with a dismissive wave. "I've got this covered."

"Thanks," Percy said, half-dragging Annabeth.

A blast of cold air washed over them as they stepped out. Percy led his tutor to a weathered old bench, snow crunching beneath their feet, and forced her to sit.

So they sat with the wind nipping at their flushed faces and their hands stuffed into their coat pockets, thinking about what the hell was going to happen from now on.

Percy stared at the blue sky above, watching smoke spiral upwards from somewhere off in the distance. It drifted further and further up, bleeding into the snow-white clouds around it. A beautiful day for such a melancholy occasion.

"They're cremating him, you know," Annabeth said, following Percy's line of sight. "Burning him so that nothing's really left except for some dust and smoke."

Percy didn't know what to say. Having never been to a funeral before, he wasn't even sure if all this drama was normal. Sighing, he went with the obvious.

"So, you never really answered. Are you okay?"

"I don't know, Percy," she replied, eyes still glued on the thinning trail of smoke. "And I really, really, hate not knowing…"

Percy stared at his tutor in shock. In all the time he had known her, this was the first time she'd ever admitted to being in the dark about something. And it was seeing her like this, so vulnerable to everything around her, that finally shifted everything into perspective.

His eyes memorized how her shoulders heaved with repressed sobs, how her cheeks glistened with crisscrossing tear tracks. The realization hit him like a bullet. Percy never wanted to see her so crushed and vulnerable ever again. And the only way to make sure of that was to never leave her side.

The idea of love crossed his mind, but Percy brushed it away. He didn't really know love. The only person he had ever loved was his mom, and this was something different. Maybe something even better.

Annabeth wiped teary eyes on her sleeve, trying to clear her head as the smoke disappeared. She had to face the facts. Luke was gone and was never coming back. There weren't many people that really mattered in her life, and the loss of one was like having a piece gone missing. Yet among those people, the only person who could console her was Percy. Annabeth didn't know why, or how, but she was sure that to get through anything more that might happen, she'd need Percy.

They turned to each other at the exact same moment, their eyes meeting.

It's happened so many times before, but now, it's different.

They sat together, reveling in the gravity of their realization, not wanting to break whatever chain reaction had just been started.

Percy could admit that he knew nothing about love, but hey, there's a first time for everything.

Annabeth knew that loving someone so soon after Luke was stupid, but she had to confess, love was stupid.

Slowly, their hands inched closer together, fingers barely touching.

It's tiny and innocent, but it's the first step of many, and right now, it's the only one they can take.

~o~O~o~

SOMETIMES TO GET YOUR HAPPY ENDING, YOU HAVE TO END SOMEONE ELSE'S STORY

Note: So I had a bit of a reverse order there, with the chapter title coming in last, because I wanted to leave you with that sentence :)

*sniff* So Notes draws to a close. I know it isn't much for the hardcore Percabeth-ers out there, but this was the plan from the start, a nice soft romance.

And for those who wish Notes wouldn't be over (myself included), don't take this story off your alerts just yet! I'll have special "Post-it" chapters following this one, detailing some minor events I brushed over during the course of this story. (Like the Rachel scandal, that Tratie way back in chapter 5 or something, hospital scenes, Castellan family drama, etc.

Thanks for sticking with me guys, I can't tell you how much it means :)