I am just in a bad mood today. . . so I used my emotions to write a story. AU, OOC, Typos. Enjoy!

"Don't leave me here, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth whispers out of breath as she pushes away a monster.

Of course, she's nowhere near him. Percy's fighting on the other side of camp and Annabeth hasn't seen him in an hour. They were separated right when the fight began. No one had seen it coming, and as far as Annabeth knows, there are ten of her friend's dead already. Ten campers already died, all because of an invasion.

A monster lashes out, but Annabeth swerves out of the way and brings her knee up to hit it in its oversized gut. It bends at the waist and Annabeth uses this advantage to kick the knees and send it to the ground. One swipe from her knife ends the monsters life.

But even as Annabeth runs off to fight another monster, she prays quietly in her head to any of the gods that are bothering to listen but not help out.

Please just save my boyfriend, she thinks.

Many months ago, Percy made a promise that he would never leave her, and she believes it. He'd never leave her intentionally, but the Fates have snipped at their strings and woven decisive futures for them, the kind that even Rachel never could have expected.

Fate is a nasty thing, Annabeth has decided finally. Before learning of her true purpose, she always had a positive connotation towards the word. Then Fate became a proper noun and all of that changed.

She hopes that he is alright. Why shouldn't he be? He's Percy Jackson, the Savior of Olympus two times now. He's defeated Titans and Giants alike and gone through Tartarus with her. He's gone to the Underworld four times and has lived to tell the tale. He survived for months without any memory. He's the son of Poseidon and he's in her love.

He. Will. Not. Die.

Every fiber of her being is certain of that now but she must see it with her own eyes to be positive. She must see his raven black hair, windswept to one side, and his sea green eyes twinkling like he's just heard the funniest joke. She must feel his arms go around her and hear the reassurances.

Only then will she be able to rest.

But not now. Another monster, this one with large, leathery wings, dive-bombs her from the sky. Annabeth catches the movement out of her peripheral vision and somersaults out of the way, coming up on her knee. Before the monster can react she has already impaled it in the neck with her bronze blade.

For some reason Annabeth wishes she had her sword that the Giant Damasen gave her. That broke last week during Capture the Flag. That way she would be able to reach farther rather having to dart all around to attack. Her legs are shaking from fatigue. She didn't sleep last night.

Annabeth stands up just in time to catch Piper running by her. The daughter of Aphrodite has a long cut going down one side of her face and into her shoulder, and it's still bleeding. Her small knife isn't doing much to help her, and she narrowly misses getting her head chopped off.

"Piper, MOVE!" Annabeth screams, and she pushes the girl out of the way with one arm and jabs the monsters with the other. It explodes into sulfuric yellow dust that coats the both of them like a second skin.

Piper says something like, "Thank you," but Annabeth really isn't paying attention. Instead, she hears the silence that has stretched from most of the camp. The campers left standing are leaning against one another for support, and Annabeth can only count a few monsters left, and they are in the valley.

She turns to ask Piper to repeat herself but she has already wandered off, probably in suit of Jason. With nothing to keep her there, Annabeth sets off to find Percy and make sure that he is alright. She hates fighting without him at her back. They're stronger together than apart.

It's sickening how many fallen people she sees on the ground. Was the attack really that bad? She'd been on autopilot, doing what she was taught, but Great Gods, this was horrifying.

A bad feeling unfurls in her stomach and she presses a hand to her mouth to stop her gagging, but she can't help the cough that escapes. Something warm goes onto her hand, and she sees the blood.

Glancing at her jeans, she decides to keep it as it is. Her jeans aren't much better and would just make everything worse. Annabeth can feel the tight wounds on her face that hurt whenever an expression comes to mind. Her orange shirt is red and ripped to shreds.

Where's Percy?

She scans the faces of those standing and sitting, those awake and those who may be dead of unconscious. The faces are familiar but not the one that she so desperately needs.

Somehow, a part of her brain registers how cold it has become. Only a couple of hours ago it was warm and sunny, but now the thick gray clouds have rolled in and the air seems to have dropped twenty degrees. She unconsciously shivers and wraps her arms around herself.

Where's Percy?

She stops.

There's Percy.

But not the one she so desperately needs to see. Not the one that'll wrap his arms around her and kiss her. This isn't the Percy with the windswept black hair or the shining green eyes, the one with a warm smile on his face and all of the stupid sayings that make her laugh. This isn't him. Part of Annabeth believes that this can't even be Percy.

This Percy is on the ground, in his back, eyes glued to the sky as if he wanted to count every single cloud that he saw, even though they blended together. His hair is matted down with something red and that same substance is forming a puddle of sorts underneath his body. He looks exhausted when he blinks and his eyes have dulled a bit.

Annabeth runs to him and falls at his side.

It's as if she's falling through Tartarus all over again and she can't catch herself on anything. Every rock hits her in the back and sends her falling even harder, and the tears on her face hurt because of how fast she is falling. Falling, falling, falling down into the pits of hell with nothing to stop her.

Only that time, Percy had been below her and had wrapped his arms around her. They'd fallen together.

The Fates were cruel people, and Annabeth knows that these wounds she saw were fatal. She couldn't help the little tears that fell now either. She's shivering even more now and grips his hand, willing him to stay with her. "Don't leave me here, Seaweed Brain," she says now, almost just breathing it.

Did none of the gods hear her?

Annabeth knows that he does not have much time left. His breathing is slowing but his eyes are glued to her face. Tears are trekking down his cheeks too, and his mouth moves but he can't seems to form words. Annabeth needs to say something to him but she has no idea what to do. She wasn't ready for this.

Every part of her wants to scream at the sky. Why him? He didn't deserve this! He'd saved Olympus twice now and had devoted everything to helping other people. Her insides are being torn up with a rusty knife. She needs to say something to him.

What though? But maybe now he needs those reassurances that she needed. "You'll go to Elysium," he tell him, kissing his weak hand against her parched him. "You'll go to Paradise."

He grips her hand tighter as a cough racks through his feeble body. Her eyes beg with him silently to not leave. He gives her a small smile, though his teeth are covered in crimson, and winks. "It's not paradise without you."

But that can't be it. She wants him to be happy, but he's saying that he can't feel that without her, and that's not fair. Elysium supposed to be the final resting place, a place to feel at peace, not a place to grieve for what you don't have.

And in the end, Annabeth just wants Percy to be at peace.

Annabeth cries even harder and so does Percy. She can tell that he is not ready to go and she doesn't want him too. He must be in so much pain to be holding on this long. "I love you," she chokes out, her eyes blurring as she bends down and wraps her arms around his entire body. Her world has been tinged in red and black.

"I love you," he echoes, his grip slackening. "And I'll wait for you."

Annabeth cries. Percy breathes out.