Love, In Memoriam | Percy Jackson | PG-13

Jul 13, 2010 00:27

Title: Love, In Memoriam
Prompt: Because I never really had you at all, I didn't think it would hurt this much to lose you.
Pairings: Thalia/Luke, Nico/Percy, Percy/Luke, Percy/Annabeth
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Summary: Three short vignettes, all featuring a different pairing. All inspired by the above quote. Shifting time-line, with major spoilers through The Last Olympian.

i. “If only."

She is pinned under a fucking ten ton statue of Hera. She is effectively useless while the world is ending all around her. She cannot feel her toes. She hopes this isn’t how it all ends.

It isn’t.

A few Cyclopes lift the statue off her with great ease. She is fed nectar and ambrosia, enough to allow her to stand. She is given crutches. It feels odd, throwing her center of balance beyond her body. Then again, her center had been thrown a long time before this bloody day.

At first, no one tells her exactly what happened, at least in words. Just looks, fleeting glances that ricochet off her limping form like shafts of light bouncing off an object. There is no physical pain now, just anxiety and tension building deep within her chest for now she sees the body. She spies it from far away. She pretends it isn’t his.

Annabeth has tears streaking down her face, forming crisp lines that run across her dirt smeared as if drawn upon her cheeks. She puts a hand on Thalia’s shoulder and squeezes. Thalia feels nothing.

“It’s done, then?” Thalia asks lightly. Her voice is not her own.

Annabeth nods.

“He was back,” she whispers to the Huntress, head dipping low. “At the end, he was the one who did it. He took his body back. He saved us.”

Thalia’s eyes widen and her nostrils flare. She gives Annabeth a look that could have scorched the sun. It would have been easier to consider him a faded memory. It would have been simpler if Percy had stabbed him.

Thalia does not respond. She instead limps over to the body. Falling to her knees, she performs a forbidden act. Lips, chaste and wet by tears, press against his forehead. He is cold. Too cold.

She lingers.

“Enough,” says a voice, young and pure: her mistress. “Enough, Thalia.”

Thalia rises, and wonders what could have been.

ii. "Whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same." - Emily Bronte

"So," Nico asks, "how're you feeling?"

"Like my knees have been made into jello," Percy replies somewhat happily. "A bit wobbly. Sort of dizzy. Not my usual."

"Just stay calm," Nico soothes, straightening the older boy's bowtie. His fingers dance around Percy's collar, fidgeting and smoothing the lines of his dress shirt. "If you pass out, you will not hear the end of it from me for a lifetime. And beyond. I am the son of Hades, after all. I can tease you into eternity."

"You're such a joy," Percy scowls, straightening up.

"What can I say? You picked a perfect best man," Nico grins, clapping the groom-to-be on the back. Music starts to play. "That's our cue." Percy gulps.

"You know, Nico, I--" Percy fumbles out, words falling over syllables, blush rushing to his cheeks. Nico gives himself a reason to hope.

Stupid, silly hope.

"I--well. I, uh, just want to thank you," Percy finally finishes after a long pause that had left Nico hanging on the son of Poseidon's next breath. "For all the support."

Nico closes his eyes and does the hardest thing he's ever done in his entire life.

Harder than summoning legions of the dead. Harder that shadow-traveling for the first time. Harder than coming to terms with Bianca's death.

"Go get 'em, seaweed brain," Nico chides, pushing Percy toward the door.

Percy allows himself a laugh. "I don't believe that's your line, Nico." Percy walks forward, clicks open the handle, and turns back toward the dark haired young man.

"You'll be right behind me?" Percy asks softly. Nico melts.

"Always."

They exit, and Nico watches his comrade in arms, his soul brother, his second half... he watches Percy Jackson get married to Annabeth Chase. And he does it with a smile on his face.

iii. "The hardest part of dreaming about someone you love is having to wake up." - Unknown

"Wake up, Percy," says a concerned voice. Percy makes a noise that sounds human, but could be translated as Middle-Dracenaen: "Snuuuuughhhhrrssss."

It is far too late or far too early to be conscious. Percy rolls over and stares up at his girlfriend blearily.

"Are you okay?" Annabeth whispers, letting a hand wander over to Percy's bare chest. She runs it up and down his torso, trying to soothe him. "You were yelling out in your sleep."

"Was I now," Percy yawns, putting an arm behind his head. "Sorry."

"Yes, you were," Annabeth presses. "It's the third time this week that it's happened." Annabeth's eyes, monotone in the near blackness, widen, trying to take all of him in.

"I can go sleep on the couch, Annabeth," Percy sighs. "I know I'm keeping you up--"

"No, Percy, it's fine. I'm just worried about you." Annabeth tucks herself into the crook of his arm. "You know you can tell me anything."

"Mmhmm."

"Will you tell me what you're dreaming about?"

Silence.

"You know, same old, same old. Monsters attacking. The usual."

A pause.

"It's the anniversary of the Battle for Olympus tomorrow, you know," Annabeth says, trying to direct the subject away from Percy's obvious fib. "Four years to the day."

"It's today, you mean," Percy quickly corrects, gesturing at the clock radio in the dark. It blinks 2:35 AM.

"Yeah," she says quietly. "I guess it is today."

Another pause. Annabeth clears her throat.

"I heard you say his name," she says in a barely audible tone.

Percy says nothing.

"It happens every year," Annabeth says, her voice quickening. "Always around your birthday. Ever since..." She doesn't finish the sentence. "We all miss him, Percy. You don't have to hide it--"

"I don't have the right to miss him," Percy interrupts gruffly. He's sitting up now, leaning over a prostrate Annabeth. "I didn't know him like you and Thalia did. Like Grover did. I had a summer, and even then, he had already gone over." Percy leans in over Annabeth and gives her a slow, sweet kiss. "There's no way I miss him more than you do, Annabeth." He leans back onto his pillow, curling his body around hers and throwing an arm over her possessively. Content, Annabeth huddles closer to him.

"Just know that you can always talk to me about anything," she sighs, tucking in for the night.

Percy's eyes remain wide open, staring out into the dark unknown of empty, unfulfilled possibility. He finds himself thinking of an old saying, one that hurts him deep down in his soul: For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been.".

"Yeah, of course."

ship: annabeth/percy, fic, ship: nico/percy, ship: percy/luke, ship: thalia/luke, fandom: percy jackson

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