Hey! So… this fic is inspired by John Green's wonderful TFIOS, aka The Fault In Our Stars, my favourite book in the history of ever. It made me laugh, cry, smile, rage, and any other emotion except hate (besides that ASSHOLE P-)

So even if it seems like it, I'm not new to Fanfiction. I've had two accounts previous to this. One that I was bullied for having, and the ideas were crap, so yeah, the second was just… Mind block. I forgot the password, and yeah. No biggy :P

Even though TFIOS inspired this, it's not a copy. They're still demigods, but it's kind of an AU, and only one character has cancer (Hazel's cancer, Thyroid and a colony in the lungs), I changed some ages and age gaps, and the ending is pretty similar, and I've stolen quotes here and there, but yeah.

There's a reason this is rated T – language, angst, and hopefully, I send a message.

I don't own any of the three series/book – Percy Jackson and the Olympians and The Heroes of Olympus, written by Rick Riordan; or TFIOS, written by John Green.

DFTBA.

Chiron called me into the Big House on June 18th, 2006. Of course, I obliged. I left the arena, wiping the sweat from my brow as the Ares camper I had been battling with game me a begrudging nod. I smirked in his direction and saluted him, strapping my bronze dagger to my thigh.

Luke saw me and grinned, waving. His scar rippled, a long ugly thing that stretched from his eyebrow to his upper left on his right eye. I blushed lightly. The guy was nineteen as of last month, and I turned fourteen in April. The guy was handsome, and every girl in her right mind, or who wasn't oriented… that way, found him attractive. Including me, unfortunately. But I still thought of him (mostly) as my older brother.

I jogged over, and said, "Hey, Luke. How's it going?"

He shrugged indifferently. "Same old, same old, Annie-" I resisted to punch him in the gut at that, "-and I heard Chiron called for ya. What's happening?"

"Don't know, really," I said, scowling at the ground. "Haven't done anything-"

He smirked and cut me off. "Oh, really? Are you sure? Has my little 'Beth gone bad?"

"Oh, shut up, will you? I'm sure he want me to give another tour, you pea-brained doofus." I reached up and whacked him upside the head. It would've been more effective had I been a foot taller.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I better not keep you stalled, O Wise One," he said, giving me a mock bow.

I gave him a light kick in the shins. "Later, you weird kleptomaniac."

"Later, nerd."

"Shut the hell up."

I sat down in Chiron's office; waiting patiently as Chiron filed through the letters he'd received from many a parents.

"Ah, here it is… Sally Jackson's son, Perseus, I believe, is arriving at camp tomorrow."

"Need me to give a tour, Chiron? Explanation?"

"Oh, a tour, yes. Explanation? No, he's known for quite a while now."

I scowled. "Have there been attacks?"

"Up until he was… nine, I believe," he said. Suddenly, Chiron looked at the opened letter pitifully.

"But… why?"

I was awfully confused. If he'd been attacked before he turned ten, it meant that his godly father is pretty darned powerful. But why would the monsters stop?

Chiron immediately changed the subject. "Annabeth… this boy has had it harder than a lot of campers."

I scoffed. "Not being attacked by monsters while knowing for five years seems spectacular to me."

"The reason has weakened him. He knows his father, Annabeth. He knows that something was out to kill him, but didn't bother when…" he trailed off. "No matter. I need to ask you something. A favor."

I hesitated. "I have a question first. I won't do the favor if you don't answer truthfully."

He closed his eyes briefly. "Ask away, dear."

"Who's his dad?"

Chiron winced. "I was afraid you'd ask that."

"Just answer, Chiron."

"Poseidon."

My eyes bulged. If I had been eating or drinking, I'm sure I would have choked to death on something. Poseidon broke it too?! There's another child of the Big Three?

"No."

"Yes."

"I'm not doing anything for any dirty-rotten, scumbag son of the sea god! I swear to Athena, I-"

"Annabeth."

I stopped, taking in a breath. "I won't help him."

"You promised. And besides… he's different. Quite different."

I winced. I did promise. And I was very serious about my promises.

"… Fine. How can I help?"

"Show him around for one. But… don't pity him."

"Huh?"

"The letter says he despises sympathy and pity. It 'puts a damper on his already large ego', to quote his mother."

"What's to pity?"

"Something quite serious, Annabeth."

He has been avoiding the answer, and it was pissing me off, but I didn't question.

"Alright. I'll do it," I said, knowing full well there would be no point in arguing with Chiron.

"Stay safe, dear. Come by the big house tomorrow at noon."

The next day, I met with Chiron at Half Blood hill, sending him a quick look.

I sighed. "How much longer?" I asked, my ADHD getting to me as I tapped my foot impatiently.

"Ten minutes."

I groaned, and killed time by counting the leaves on an evergreen. I was at five hundred and thirty-two when a dryad rippled through, giggling and she skipped away. Her moving caused the leaves to rustle, and me to lose count. I cursed under my breath.

"They're here."

I looked down to see a blue Prius pull up. A man in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair, and a thin frame stepped out the drivers side awkwardly, watching as a woman stepped out the shotgun, and opened the door to which her son was.

The woman was Sally Jackson, surely, and the man, a stepfather to Perseus. The woman pulled out one suitcase, and this… green, cylindrical suitcase. I rolled my eyes. It was probably a new suitcase design.

Then, this lanky teenager with a mop of black hair stepped out. I couldn't see him too well, but he was lightly tanned. Natural. He looked at the hill, and paled. He looked at his mom, who stiffened, and pulled him into a hug, obviously crying. They pulled away, and I saw him say something along the lines of 'Love you.' He shook hands with the guy, and began pulling his things up.

After five minutes of slow climbing, I sighed. "Slow, much?" I muttered.

Suddenly, I saw it. First, I saw his eyes, which were bright green. Then, the oxygen tank, hooked up to a cannula that looped over his ears, and under his nose.

This guy had breathing problems. Guilt washed over me. Sick demigods weren't hunted; they weren't bothered with.

He shakily took another step up the slightly steep hill, but collapsed, his actual suitcase tumbling down the hill, but his tank stayed put as he used any strength left to clutch onto it.

"Get his suitcase, Annabeth. I'll take him to the infirmary."

I nodded. "Cabin three?"

"Of course."

I ran down the hill, grabbed his suitcase, and pulled it up, watching as he took this guy, this sick guy, to the infirmary.

So that's the first chapter. Tell me what you think, please! I've had this idea for AGES.

Thanks!

-Eli