PERCY HADN'T FELT that safe in what seemed like centuries, honestly. Half his life basically consisted of being hunted down by crazed mythological beings and taking part in prophecies that usually ended in someone's death; he was never really sure whether his body would join the pile of fallen demigods or not.

With his arm was draped over Annabeth's shoulders, the view of the strawberry fields spread out in front of them, and the small silver-and-turquoise ring on her finger, he could not have wished for anything else. He was finally, genuinely, happy. He had actually thanked the gods that day. But when everything seemed to be going the way he wished for it to be, the immortal beings naturally just had to screw it all up.

It's been around a week since Percy finally 'manned up' and proposed to her (with the consent of Athena, of course) and they have been planning for their future plans together ever since: how they would continue collage in New Rome, rent out a small apartment that they've already checked out, then they would get married in Camp Half-Blood, before finally settling down and living the life that they deserved.

Inscribed inside the celestial bronze ring were the words 'as long as we're together' in Ancient Greek. It was Piper who had suggested that small romantic gesture, and though Percy would never admit it aloud, he was thankful.

"I love you, Wise Girl." Percy muttered lovingly as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Always,"

"I love you too, Seaweed Brain." she whispered back, cuddling closer to him. "Until the very end,"

He snickered at her unintentional cliché response, earning a playful slap from the blonde demigod. Percy only kissed the top of her head.

Percy and Annabeth remained sitting on top of hollow wooden boxes as they plucked some strawberries nearby. They were bickering like an old married couple as if armageddon hadn't ended just the month before. True, they were still healing from the mental wounds that their experience from Tartarus had given them, but on that day, nothing could seem to dampen their spirits.

The cool summer air and the sweet aroma wafting from the fields below them made the couple slightly drowsy, but they were both alive and they were with each other. That was always what mattered most in the end to them, anyways.

They were planning on heading to New Rome the next day, so the two decided to take a walk around their home for what seemed like forever before deciding what to pack for their trip to the Roman camp. Though, unbeknownst to Percy, it would be his last in a long time.

So, obviously, they ended up in the beach.

Annabeth sat on the cold, slightly damp yet white sand, watching her fiancé dive into the clear blue waters.

The daughter of Athena was used to Percy disappearing under any surface of water from time to time, the longest being an hour, so she wasn't really worried when he hasn't come back after nearly forty minutes.

She grabbed a small, broken branch, and slowly dragged it across the sand.

'Together' was written in Latin. Below it, this time in English, was 'until the very end'. The blonde had added their initials under it, just because she can.

She thought back to the time where Percy had been hanging off a ledge, with no one else but her pulling him down. Annabeth was reminiscing how fear had been gnawing at her insides. She hadn't wanted him to drop her, but it was either him or her; she'd rather that she fell instead of him, even if the thought terrified her greatly. She closed her eyes briefly, remembering the words he had said to her: We're staying together. You're not getting away from me. Never again.

Her eyelids slowly fluttered open, warmth spreading throughout her body. She did indeed love Percy Jackson to no end; they had, after all, survived hell and came back out alive, have they not?

"As long as we're together," she murmured under her breath, letting out a small content smile.

Then she brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees, before her eyelids began to droop slowly. The daughter of Athena stiffened as she felt another presence from behind her, but she seemed to be frozen in place. She couldn't move at all, and her voice failed her. The fear of not having control of her own body was one of the effects of having survived Tartarus; it became her greatest fear next to spiders and losing everyone she loved. She began hyperventilating, her chest heaving up and down as panic seized her. Then her body suddenly felt weightless, and she couldn't even fight to stay conscious as sleep evaded her.

And right at that moment, somewhere, deep in the ocean, Percy Jackson was struggling to breathe.

Water threatened to go up his nose, his vision started becoming hazy, and his clothes were completely soaked, resulting to him having to struggle harder as he swam towards the surface. He didn't have a clue on what was happening.

His lungs were burning due to the lack of oxygen, and all the demigod could do was fight his way upwards. He was much too deep under water, and the pressure building up in his ears didn't help one bit.

All Percy knew was that he going to drown, and there was no one who would save him.

Years of training in the camp for heroes certainly proved useful, as he had more stamina than the average mortal being, but he never had any first-hand experience on drowning in actual water.

Black dots danced in his vision, and he became light-headed, but he could see the surface of the water, and it was only a few feet away.

He forced his already numb legs to kick harder, with his tiring arms helping to push him upwards.

Faster, he thought to himself. You absolutely cannot die before your marriage with Annabeth.

A mental image of the blonde storming into Hades and slapping him upside the head made him only push himself more.

His head broke through the surface of the water, and he was gasping for air. His limbs were sore, he felt like throwing up, he had absolutely no energy left, and he was confused.

Why had his powers suddenly failed him? After years of being the son of Poseidon, he had grown accustomed to using them whenever he wanted to, wherever he was. He certainly did not want the waters to drown him, the sea didn't propel him upwards when he willed it to, and the bubble of oxygen he had created suddenly burst when it shouldn't have.

The sky darkened as a thought popped up in his mind; but he quickly dismissed it. It kept bothering him, though. Seeing as no one else had the power over the sea, the blame is solely put on one god in particular.

Certainly, it couldn't have been his father's doing?

Percy had no other option as to which powerful deity could make his powers falter and nearly drown him in his own turf.

Thunder rumbled from above him as he swam back to shore.

Annabeth was gone, and the only proof that remained that proved she had actually been there was the small message scribbled on the sand.

Percy smiled knowingly, before struggling to his feet.

By the time he was standing upright, leaning on a nearby palm tree for support, dark clouds were rolling above the camp boundaries, which was nearly impossible. Then the harsh, cold rain came pouring down. The droplets of water lashed painfully at every but of his exposed skin. Thick fog was rolling in from the forest in an eerie and cryptic manner, and Percy could only scoff as he was reminded of the cliché mortal horror or thriller movies that he had seen with his friends. He staggered forwards, leaning onto trees whenever the wind would threaten to knock him off his feet. He almost slipped from the mud several times, and he was quite astounded when he found himself near the area wherein the demigods took refuge from the storm alive.

He was a shivering, wet mess by the time he entered his cabin.

The room looked the same as ever, aside from its newly painted white and teal walls. The hundreds of miniature bronze hippocampi hanging off the ceiling, the small stone fountain on the far right corner of the room, and the shells that dotted the place in a seemingly random pattern were still there. It smelled of the ocean and seaweed, which had always been a refreshing scent for Percy.

The whole place radiated with some sort of homey feeling to it.

Tyson had added a few touches to the cabin before he left for the forges just three weeks ago. On each wooden nightstand, there were ceramic bowls filled with sand, several drachmas placed on top in case of emergencies. A gigantic shell took up the center of the ceiling, which glowed faintly during the night. Lastly, there was a mechanical picture frame wherein Tyson, with the help of the children of Hephaestus, had installed several pictures of Percy and his friends.

A small smile tugged at the end of the demigod's mouth.

He missed his half-brother dearly, although he did have quite a lot of Iris Messages with the cyclops over the last couple of days.

His prized possession, the Minotaur horn, still lay right beside the bowl, along with the shield Tyson made for him was repaired, and was currently back to its watch form.

These were the two most important things he had, together with Riptide and the ring that was on his finger. He would rather die than give any of those items up.

But a peculiar feeling washed over Percy as he picked up the electronic frame. He watched as the pictures shifted, showing the smiling faces of all his friends. He felt like this was going to be his last chance to say something to them, though he didn't understand why. But he followed his instinct anyway. He packed all his valued items, slung the backpack over his shoulder, and made his way towards the cabins of his friends.

He didnt know it then, but he was glad he said goodbye.

The storm hadn't died down one bit, and Percy had a suspecting feeling that it wouldn't be ending soon. Naturally, he headed for the cabin of his cousin, Nico di Angelo. Better start off with the end and work his way through to the front. He walked as quickly as he could, thankful that he was already regaining some of his powers, and stood right before the pitch-black door with a gleaming skull hanging on it.

The green torches that were positioned on either side of the door miraculously remained lit outside the thirteenth cabin. Percy raised a fist to knock, but heard muffled voices from the inside and paused with a hand hovering inches from the painted wood.

"—take her there and keep her safe. The others and I will probably arrive by midday tomorrow. Don't worry, we'll come alive and in peace. Just warn them of our arrival so we wont get shot dead when they see us coming, all right?" Percy heard Nico say.

Who in Hades was he talking to? He doubted that the cabin could provide enough light from the inside to create a rainbow. To his great surprise, though, someone answered.

"I will, Nico; of course you know that. She will obviously be confused as to why I am asking her to come with me—seeing as I'm, well, me—I would either have to lie or tell her the truth. Which would you wish for me to do?"

"Anything that she asks for. If Hazel wants the truth, then give her the truth. If not, then be subtle about telling her what the game plan is. The less people involved, the better."

"You never fail to surprise me, son of Hades."

"Shut up," Nico grumbled. "Now if you'd excuse me, I think that there's someone waiting for me outside the door. I'll talk to you later. But this isn't over, Jackal."

Before Percy could even fully process what the younger demigod inside the cabin had said, he knew he had to make a run for it. As he was preparing to bolt, the door swung open, revealing Nico di Angelo wearing a maroon hoodie and a smug smirk.

"Hello, Percy."