"dead every enormous piece
of nonsense which itself must call
a state submicroscopic -
compared with pitying terrible
some alive individual

"ten centuries of original soon
or make it ten times ten are more
than not entitled to complain
- plunged in eternal now if who're
by the five nevers of a lear"
-e.e. cummings

She walked in and, somehow, wasn't surprised to see him sprawled across his bed, his arms spread wide over the sides of the mattress. Fleetingly, she wondered if, in his dream, he was flying. Or if he was dreaming at all. He'd certainly looked exhausted enough.

Gods knew Annabeth did, too. She would've liked nothing more than to simply curl up next to him and sleep for a few thousand years (and for a few seconds she seriously considered it), but she couldn't. She hadn't saved Olympus. Percy had, and even then his nap had to come to a close - not that he didn't deserve it, of course.

She sat down on the edge of the bed so as not to immediately wake him, took his hand in hers; with her other she fixed some of the hair at his forehead, lightly combing through it. It was damp: He must've showered and not dried himself off. At her touch, his hand folded over her fingers, and she smiled for a moment.

She really, really didn't want to wake him up.

Sighing, Annabeth pulled her hand away from his face and moved it down to his shoulder, shaking him.

"Hey," she said, none too quietly but not unnecessarily loud. The way the rhythm of his breathing had changed a minute ago made her wonder if he wasn't still asleep. "Hey," she repeated. "Percy. Get up, Seaweed Brain."

With a groan, Percy sat up, stretching his arms over his head, only to stop abruptly when he realized that there was something attached to the end of one of them other than his own hand.

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks and she dropped it. "Sorry."

"S'fine," he mumbled in a voice rough from sleep. He proceeded to stretch his shoulders as well; she heard two faint cracks and winced, and so did he, reaching back to rub them.

"Sore?" she questioned. She'd be surprised if he wasn't, after the morning they'd had.

"Yeah, just a little." He rubbed his eyes then, and when he reopened them he looked more attentive. His slight smile disappeared as he took her in - pale face, mouth drawn into a tight line, body tense.

"What?" he said, maybe too urgently, but the war had only been over for a grand total of eight hours, so perhaps he had the right to be paranoid.

Annabeth shook her head; not to give negative confirmation, but rather to express some sort of sorrow - which, considering the circumstances, was not uncalled for.

"It's nothing," she said. "No one's - well, that's not exactly true, I guess - it's just, I mean -"

"Annabeth," he interrupted, "you're rambling." And her voice had cracked all over the place and she wasn't meeting his gaze, but he didn't mention it.

"The, um... the funerals are, um, starting soon."

"Oh." It was a quiet sound that escaped him, and in the silence that fell afterward it was small and very alone-sounding. She bit her lip to keep it all in.

"Well," - Percy got to his feet - "I guess we'd better go pay our respects then, right?"

She matched the softness of his tone and murmured, "Yeah."

After a long moment, she stood, and together they left his cabin and walked toward the amphitheater.

Annabeth's heart was like a lead weight dangling from a string in her chest and with each step she took, it felt as though it grew heavier, pushing the string to a breaking point. Before long they were within sight of the great marble stands, where most of the camp was already assembled. Some campers were stoking a fire in the pyre, which every eye was fixed upon, and some Apollo kids were approaching with bundles wrapped in shrouds of various colors and she couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, just like none of those bundles were breathing -

She stopped in her tracks.

Percy glanced over at her, stopping too. He licked his lips, somewhat nervously, and said, staring almost straight ahead, "Y'know, I didn't mind. When you were holding my hand," he added at her lack of response.

She took his hand again and as they resumed walking, her heart was pounding, half painfully and half pleasantly, and she noticed that it didn't feel quite so heavy.

a/n: percy woulda been tired, but the day wasn't over yet. i figured they woulda been breaking down the barriers they'd put up and annabeth needed him. this occurred to me, and i wrote.

i'd love it if you'd review. (please, point out any spelling/grammar mistakes - this was hastily typed up. :P)

thanks for reading. hope you enjoyed it. :)

~whispered touches

disclaimer: i do not own percy jackson or its characters. they belong to rick. i am not rick, therefore i do not own. no copyright infringement is intended.