I realise I haven't written any oneshots in a while, and nothing particularly tragic either. So here goes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians and its characters, scenarios and settings.

The Demigod Blessing

"Of course!" Annabeth said her eyes suddenly bright. After so many days of terror and confusion and being at a total loss of... well, anything- seeing that light lifted Percy's spirit.

She was turning over some ancient texts they'd stolen from the god Tartarus (there was a place and a god and Percy wasn't sure which one was more trouble; long story), and translating it from an archaic ancestor of Ancient Greek. It was a strange dialect, something older than Greece and the West, than democracy and Olympus. Something as old as time and death, fear and darkness.

"Care to elaborate for those of us who aren't children of genius?" Percy asked.

"Do you remember the story of Pandora?" Annabeth asked, her grey eyes bright in the faint light of their candles.

It was amazing that they could light candles and have fire and light now, but they'd found a safe haven. The spot where the Giants and Cyclops and Hundred-Handed ones had built themselves a fortified castle using their magic skills with technology while they were thrown in Tartarus, before Zeus freed them. The Cyclops were the only reason they'd escaped from the palace of Tartarus (god) with the text they were studying in the first place. They'd rescued Percy because of the common blood they shared, and they were too nice to leave Annabeth behind. The cast of Cyclops roaming the building had been in a near-constant rotation as Cyclops died and were reborn, but they were all nice and pleasant. Somehow not having a scent in Tartarus really helped.

"Yeah," Percy said.

"Pandora was given the box," Annabeth said. "It wasn't given to a god or even a demigod; but to a human. Only a human could release all the things in there: hate, greed, sickness, disease, death…"

Annabeth looked at him like that should be enough.

"Yeah," Percy repeated. She sighed like she always did when he was exactly like his nickname.

"A human could release those things. A human has to take those things back. It has to be humans who close Tartarus, not the gods like the crew thinks." Annabeth said.

"We have to tell them!" Percy said.

"How?" Annabeth said. "We've tried establishing dreams from down here, and it doesn't work. I doubt that Piper's dagger does long-distance."

"So we have to be at the portal area and tell whatever god they have to get the hell out when they open them," Percy said.

Annabeth got up. "I'll get our stuff. Tell the Cyclops to get us a lot of rope."

The vortex was opened fully, and swirls of black danced around the face of… Frank Zhang? The scenery didn't look like Greece or Rome.

"Are they in godsdamned China?" Percy blurted.

"Frank!" Annabeth cried up. They saw that Bacchus was with them. "Get Bacchus away!"

Frank waved and tried to say something, but they couldn't hear.

Suddenly Nico came up next to Bacchus, and he held onto the god's arm.

"Does Nico need a boost?"

"Shut up Seaweed Brain and help me stop them! They can't do that!" Annabeth said. For the first time since they'd fallen in Tartarus where the world was shaded in black and white and grey, he could see colour. Her blonde hair, stormy eyes, orange camp t-shirt, colourful beads...

They looked behind them. The monsters, blinded by Gaia so they'd serve her mindlessly, were climbing up the walls of Tartarus. They'd reach Percy and Annabeth's nook in no time, and after that it was an easy climb up to where the doors of death were wide open.

Percy and Annabeth scrambled up and kept yelling, but nobody acted like they could hear a thing. Nico's hands started bleeding black smoke, curling all over the top of the Underworld.

"No, no, no!" Annabeth said. "It won't work and they'll be caught so off guard when it doesn't!"

They saw Hazel. She cupped her hands around her mouth, and for the first time they could hear a voice- maybe because the daughter of Pluto was so closely connected to death.

"Percy, Annabeth!" She said. "We're glad to see you. Piper's charm speaking this door to Tartarus open for us, and Nico's going to create a barricade. You have to come up before it fills up- come up!"

"We can't, that's not going to work," Annabeth said. Hazel didn't seem to hear them.

"Let's stay down, they'll get it." Percy said with his fingers crossed behind his back and his mind shouting prayers.

All they saw were frantic demigods up above. Nico, more concentrated than any demigod had ever been, Frank, Jason and Leo running around and trying to call them up although their voices were on mute, Hazel trying to coax them up again...

The monsters were too close behind them. Panic settled in, and that was when Percy's brain started to work usually.

Percy turned towards Annabeth.

"Humans!" Percy cried suddenly. "That's what we need to close the Doors of Death, right?"

"Yes," Annabeth said. "But none of us are human."

"You're half human, I'm half human," Percy said. "That's an equivalent fraction, is it not?"

"I-I suppose," she said. Annabeth looked over her shoulder. "But we won't have time to climb out before the monsters…"

She met Percy's eyes and the realisation sank.

"Oh gods," she whispered.

"I think it's the only way," he said. He took her hand. "We can still try to climb…"

"No," Annabeth said. "There's not enough time."

The truth was sinking in on Percy too, weighing on his heart and stomach so hard he thought he might throw up. No more Camp, no more New York. Goodbye school. I'll never see you again Mom. Thank you Chiron, adios Paul. Even simple, stupid things like going to the movies or working out at school after hours or playing basketball during lunch were never going to happen again. Wise Girl would never drag him into another library. He hadn't even had the chance to talk to Grover yet…

"We'll be together," Percy said squeezing her hand.

The monsters were nearly too close.

Annabeth swore, but half-heartedly.

"How do we do this, Wise Girl?"

Annabeth closed her eyes. "Visualise it. Pandora had to manually open it. The opposite of opening is locking, and the opposite of manually is mentally. We can do this."

Percy did his best, though all he heard in the distance was monsters.

"It's not working!" Annabeth doubting.

Percy peeked and looked above, at Nico's black smoke.

"Damn it, Nico's trying to keep it open for us," Percy said. He drew his sword and shot it upwards. Opaque black smoke wrapped around the blade and projected it upwards, so that it hit Nico and threw him off balance.

Percy shut his eyes, and suddenly they heard the Seven screaming.

"PERCY! ANNABETH!" Piper screamed. "GET UP HERE!"

Even the Charmspeak wouldn't get them back up. He heard Hazel cry his name, Piper yelled for Annabeth and Jason was just yelling at them both.

Sorry, Percy though. I know it was your job to keep the crew safe.

And then they heard nothing. They opened their eyes and were in darkness. The door had closed. He couldn't see past his nose, and of course Annabeth was out of his sight.

Suddenly Percy got dragged down and he yelled. A monster had him by the leg.

Annabeth grabbed his hand.

Suddenly the opaque smoke was around them again. It wrapped them like a blanket in winter and they were back in Tartarus' palace when they opened their eyes and saw each other again.

Percy fell to the ground in pain, and Annabeth sank to her knees. She held Percy to her chest, and tried to regulate her breathing. She drew her knife when Tartarus started speaking in his terrible booming, echoing voice. Percy reached for Riptide, before remembering he didn't have it. He wondered if the blade would come to him from outside Tartarus. An instinct told him that no, it wouldn't, and that just felt like insult on an already salty injury.

"You forget who I am," Tartarus said.

"No, you're Tartarus," Annabeth said. "And we're really sorry for running away and stealing from you."

"Silence," the god said. Annabeth had never taken that order nicely, but she didn't say a word more.

"I am a god of Tartarus, true. But I am also the deity from which the cosmos and all Light was born," he said.

Percy recalled seeing that on the Wikipedia page. He'd just never taken it seriously because it seemed too weird, even for Greek mythology.

"It would not do for all of that to be destroyed," Tartarus said. "I am on your side, demigods."

"Does that mean you can get us out?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Tartarus said. "I'm afraid that I can't do that. Nothing will be getting out of here for quite some time, and no doors will ever open again. Unless two mortal beings like yourself think you could possibly climb out…"

"No," Percy said. He swallowed. "So we really locked ourselves in?"

"You did," Tartarus confirmed. "May I offer some good news?"

"Give us all the good news you've got," she said. She was shaking. Her eyes looked too dry and empty, which was a form of crying for Annabeth. He could read her thoughts. Her father, Chiron, her brothers and sisters, the crew, her friends at Camp Half-Blood, Matthew and Bobby, the camp itself, her books, her sketch pads and pencils and rules and erasers, school, university, learning…

"I can give you sanctuary in my castle," he said. "Nicer than the Cyclops' home. More light. Food you might find a bit more… appropriate."

Percy's stomach didn't even care what he was eating anymore- his mother would be devastated.

Oh gods his mother…

He'd never see her again. He still had Annabeth, and that was a relief and a safety line.

But the only thing he'd see now was the dark, sombre palace of Tartarus.

250 years later…

"Karim, you okay?" Haya asked her friend. The son of Hecate turned around.

"Yeah," he said. "Just… just check the monster because I won't be able to perform that spell again for ages."

Haya held her sword at the ready and approached the dead giant. She got closer… goose bumps ran up and down her arms… and closer…

She poked it with her foot. The Hyperborean didn't move.

"Yup," she said at last. "That one's dead."

"Bless Chase-Jackson," Karim sighed. "I wouldn't have been able to keep that kind of combat up much longer. That was a job for a phalanx!"

"Or a legion," Haya said defensively.

"So, so," Karim said. "Come on, let's head back to Camp J and see if we can sacrifice something to Tartarus to really thank 'em."

375 years later...

"Remind me," Annabeth said huddling against Percy to try and be warm. She was freezing her butt off. "What colour were your eyes?"

"I..." Percy staggered. They'd been asking themselves these questions more and more. What were the Camp Half-Blood shirts like? The Argo II's walls? The cabins? The walls of their bedrooms? "I honestly don't remember Wise Girl."

"Oh," she said. He wrapped his arms around her, hoping that maybe today was one of those days where he'd feel his fingers and toes.

"So no hard feelings that I forgot your eyes?" Percy asked.

500 years later...

As they passed by the Center Green, the counsellors and experienced campers knelt in front of the stone in which the blade Anaklusmos was sunk. The tips of its handles were angled so one pointed towards Cabin Six, and one towards Cabin Two.

"Bless Chase-Jackson," the counsellor whispered.

The blessing was repeated by everyone else in the cabin.

625 years later...

Annabeth was tired. She loved Percy with all her heart, of course she did. But her life was so long, and it was so long without new things or discoveries or science or literature... She could barely remember The Great Gatsby, and all she remembered of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes was the title.

"Annabeth," she heard. She spun around, recognised Tartarus and knelt quickly.

"Good morning, My Lord."

"It's evening above," Tartarus corrected. "Remember? PM is the night, AM is the morning?"

"That seems like a silly thing to need to know," Annabeth said, hugging her torn hoody to herself. She was still freezing.

"I've never heard that from a child of wisdom," Tartarus said. "Anyways, I was thinking about your question yesterday- what a colour is. I think I know how to answer properly now. I've also recalled your parents' names, for what that's worth."

"Fantastic," Annabeth said. Although she wasn't sure she wanted to know anymore. She'd just forget. And it would pain her more until she'd ask Tartarus again. And the vicious cycle would go on and on, until one day she didn't ask.

That was the thing about this life. You couldn't die when you were in Tartarus, and it was starting to look like a problem.

750 years later...

The dragon fell and half of the legion collapsed.

From their watch post a fair bit away from the battlefield, the praetors on horseback sighed.

"Bless Chase-Jackson for that," Andromede said. "That one took a while to die."

875 years later...

Chiron taped the picture back together. Stripes and X's of clear tape were all over the picture, and even if it was striped and washed out he refused to let it fall apart. He refused to let Percy and Annabeth become just another thing to bless.

1000 years later...

Percy wrapped his arm around Annabeth's waist.

"Hear that?" He asked. The voice of a young demigod, couldn't be more than twelve, was booming around the hall in Tartarus' palace where they lived in during the dark season –when it got too cold and dark in the Cyclops' palace.

"Mmm-hmm," Annabeth said although her mind was distant, busy holding a tiny bottle to Morgan's hungry mouth. "Bless us."