And here we have our last really depressing request... an Annabeth death scene that was requested by vball17girl. It's a future fic because I had absolutely no ideas for her dying in the whole Giant war and everything, so I hope you're okay with that. Sorry I didn't post last week... I wasn't feeling it. :l

Enjoy!

- Be a Hero: Percy's POV -

A mortal hospital was the last place that Percy would have ever wanted to spend a Saturday night, even if the circumstances weren't as grim. The place stank of sweat and ammonia, and Percy could also faintly detect the metallic smell of blood. The chairs were uncomfortable, and the white walls almost blinding at nearly 11:30 at night. He stood, pacing back and forth in the waiting room just outside of the emergency room, waiting for a verdict.

His entire body felt tense and alert, his fists clenching and unclenching as he watched time tick away on the black and white clock positioned over the reception desk. The consistent clacking of the secretary on her keyboard didn't help his anxiety.

Annabeth was currently undergoing a risky surgery, that, if successful, would keep her from losing her life after a nearly fatal head-on collision with a drunk driver during a rainy night. Percy resolved that if the driver—who was also in surgery—didn't die, he was going to go and murder the man himself. His carelessness had put Percy's wife of nearly seven years into the hospital, fighting for her life.

She is a fighter, Percy thought inwardly, trying to calm himself. She'll pull through.

He paced for another few minutes, praying to any god that he could think of that she would be able to stick around. They had two young kids—a son and a daughter—who were both under the age of six. He didn't want them to grow up without a mother. Heck, he didn't know if he could raise them by himself. Then again, his mother and Paul had always been great helping hands. They were currently looking after the kids at Percy and Annabeth's apartment, keeping them busy while Percy dealt with... this.

Percy's head snapped up as the doors at the end of the room creaked open, revealing a very tired looking doctor who shuffled across the tiles over to Percy. He smiled gently at him, and Percy wasn't sure to take that as a good sign—or a bad one.

"You must be Mr. Jackson?" the doctor asked. Percy nodded quickly. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Rivers."

Percy politely shook his hand, even though he was sure his own was probably sweaty and clammy.

"Is my wife...?" Percy cracked out, wringing his hands.

The doctor's eyes suddenly became sad, and Percy felt his stomach bottom out. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson, but there was nothing we could do. There was simply... too much damage."

The drive home was long, but Percy barely remembered it. He just went through the motions in a sort of haze—all of the pieces of the night floating around in his mind like flotsam in the ocean. Talking to Annabeth on the phone while he was making dinner, telling her to drive safe on her way home from work. Getting the call from the hospital. Having the doctor make an appointment for him to come back the next day for funeral and post-death arrangements.

It was unreal.

He figured that it would probably hit home once he saw his children, and he wasn't looking forward to that. He realized he was going to have to figure out how to tell a four and five year old that their mother had been killed and wasn't ever going to come back. And their children were so attached to Annabeth... they were more like her everyday. Smart and eager learners... how was Percy supposed to keep up with that?

He pulled into the driveway of their apartment complex, taking the keys out of the ignition and grabbing his jacket before heading upstairs. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, only to see his mother sitting on the couch with his kids, reading them one of the picture books that was stashed on the bookshelf Annabeth had kept up. She stopped she she saw him, and looked up, giving him a tight smile.

"Paul took a taxi home because he wasn't feeling especially wonderful, so it's just me," she said, idly patting his daughter on the top of the head. Her face suddenly became concerned and serious. "Are you alright, honey? You look practically gray."

Percy stared at himself in the mirror hanging above their mantel only to discover that his mother was right. He'd taken on an ashy color, like someone had washed the pigment from his skin. He just shook his head a little and reached down to scoop up his children.

"Time to go to bed, guys," he said, carrying them to the back and into the bedroom that they shared. He tucked both of them in, kissing the top of their heads, before heading back out into the living room to face his mother and the traumatic, tearful conversation that undoubtedly was ahead.

He sat down next to her and stared at the wall, waiting for his mother to say something first because he wasn't sure how to explain. She reached over and put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly.

"She didn't make it, did she, honey?"

Eyes full of tears, he shook his head. "N-no." He held out for maybe two seconds, then started to cry harder than he ever had in his entire life. Sally reached over and pulled him into a hug, holding him up until he'd nearly cried himself out, stroking his hair like she used to when he was a little kid.

After what seemed like eternity, he drew away, wiping his cheeks with the backs of shaking hands. It was like someone had ripped part of him out, and he almost couldn't stand it. He wanted to break down into tears again, except he knew it wouldn't help him much.

His mother sighed. "Just..." her voice cracked a little, and he suddenly remembered that Annabeth was like a daughter to her, too. "You'll see her again someday, you know that?"

He nodded. "That's the only reason this is remotely bearable," he whispered.

Tears traced down his mother's cheeks. "I know, honey. I know."

Sleep was near impossible. Percy had been laying in his now way-too-large bed for at least a half hour, and he wasn't any closer to drifting off. All these problems and grief kept gnawing at him, pressuring him—all of the things that he was now responsible for since Annabeth was gone. All of the loneliness he felt since it was one of the first nights he'd slept alone since they were teenagers.

He eventually just stuffed his face in a pillow and tried not to cry.

Distantly, he felt a small tugging at the sheets near his arm, and dismissed it, thinking he'd gone nuts since she was gone. It got more consistent, the sheets bunching up. Eventually he heard a soft, "Daddy?"

He looked up, only to see both sets of his children's green eyes peering up at him from the bedside. Sighing softly, he scooted over in the bed and helped them climb up, letting them crawl under the sheets with him. His four year old son rest his head in the center of his chest while his daughter curled around his shoulder. He tightly wrapped his arms around both children, suddenly grateful for their presence. It was as if the universe was saying, Hey, don't worry. You're not really alone.

There was silence for a little while, before his son finally asked the dreaded question. "Where's mommy?"

Percy swallowed hard, running his fingers his son's messy black hair. "Did I tell you two about the Underworld yet?" he murmured, rubbing his daughter's back.

She nodded, furrowing her eyebrows. "It's where the dead people go," she said. "But what does that have to do with mommy?"

"Shh," Percy muttered. "You remember where the heroes go?"

"Elysium," his son said brightly. "You said it's all bright and pretty and has tons of different types of houses that mommy would've liked to look at."

The comment about Annabeth put a lump in his throat, but he managed not to cry. "Yeah," he said. "It's really nice there." He hugged both of them close. "That's where mommy went."

"To look at the houses?"

"No," Percy said softly. "Though I'm sure she'll enjoy that. Mommy is staying there in the Underworld."

Both of his kid's eyes filled at once. "Dead?" his daughter whispered.

Percy nodded slowly, reached out to wipe away her tears. "But that's okay," he said, his voice crackling. "And that's why you both have be heroes. So that when it's your time to go to the Underworld, you can get to see mommy again."

"I'm gonna be a hero for mommy," his son mumbled.

"That's right," Percy said, settling back into his pillow. "That's what she'd want."
They both squeezed up tightly next to him, and before long, had drifted off to sleep. Percy sat there, twirling one of his daughter's blonde curls around his finger, staring up at the ceiling. He looked down at his kids, and a small, tearful smile spread across his face. They looked so adorable when they slept.

He wasn't okay. Not by a long shot. He still felt partially empty, and mildly alone, even with both of his kids sleeping soundly and using him for a pillow. He closed his eyes anyway, thinking that if Annabeth were there, she'd tell him he'd need his rest. But then he remember that if Annabeth were there, he wouldn't be feeling like this.

He sucked in a breath. No, he wasn't going to cry. He needed to be a hero himself... and set a role model for his kids. If he was depressed, how would that reflect on them?

A tear dribbled out anyway. Well... maybe he'd have to start tomorrow.

I cried so hard writing this. I hate killing off my favorite characters... but it's good for writing development. :P

I've got 3 more requests, and after that... well, I'm probably not gonna end up opening them up again because you see how long it's taking me. xD Sorry... I'm actually gonna try to move away from fanfiction a bit and go on to original stories. I feel like I've had enough time playing around with Rick's characters.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this. :)