cymophobia | percy jackson

𝑥𝑣𝑖

He surged forwards, and his lips were on hers. For one second, the world stood completely still, Percy Jackson's chapped yet soft lips on Asphodel Tran's full and smooth ones. Although sloppy at first, they very quickly found a rhythm, almost like they'd been made for this, and suddenly her hands were in his hair and he was gripping her hips so hard she gasped and his tongue was in her mouth and everything they wish they had said passed between them in the blink of an eye and before she could even fully enjoy the moment she was being pushed back. 

"You have to go!" Percy insisted, moving his hands up to clutch her face. "You have the spider."

"I have the spider," she realized in horror. "Percy, I–"

Almost like he couldn't control it, the boy stole another quick kiss before speaking.

"Please!" Percy begged, and despite every fiber of her being insisting that she stay, Ash shadow-traveled back to the exit where Annabeth waited, clutching her baseball cap in anxiety. Annabeth put an arm around her shell-shocked friend's shoulders and, when she managed to unclench her fingers enough to release the spider, hurried them away. They'd made it maybe a couple hundred feet down the tunnel when there was a huge explosion and a terrible scream, a painful noise that made Ash cover her ears as she and Annabeth were nearly lifted off the ground with the force of... whatever just happened. It sent them flying forwards down the corridor, landing harshly, and Annabeth had to pull her up and keep her running as the ground rumbled and dust rained from the ceiling. Ash's mind was swimming with utter primal panic, adrenaline, and, and... and Percy. She choked out a sob as they stumbled into a cavern held up by pillars of grey stone, beat up and barely alive.

At least he wasn't going to die, he's not dead, he'll be fine, he'll be fine she chanted to herself as Annabeth collapsed to her knees in the earth. But one awful, haunting thought kept running through her head: To lose a love to worse than death. Veins humming with adrenaline, Ash immediately shadow-traveled them all the way back to camp, scaring the shit out of Chiron at four in the morning when two of his surrogate daughters appeared in his hayloft out of nowhere, crying their hearts out.

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The next two weeks were painful, even for Ash, who didn't experience pain. She'd ended up with bruised ribs, burns in various places, and damaged vocal chords from screaming, which she didn't even notice she'd been doing. Annabeth was much the same, also with some shrapnel embedded in her upper arm, and both had various cuts and bruises. That was nothing, however, compared to the agony of losing Percy. While Annabeth spent a lot of time passed out in bed from pain, Ash distracted herself by obsessively planning for their eventual return to the Labyrinth.

She knew Percy was alive, she could sense he was alive. But after those two weeks, there was so little trace of him Chiron finally decided to declare him officially deceased. Nevertheless, on the day of his funeral, Ash could be found stubbornly sitting at the end of the dock, feet dangling in the water, instead of paying respects.

And Percy Jackson could be found walking into the amphitheater perfectly healthy as Annabeth laid his burial cloth to burn. It was beautiful: long, silk, and emerald green, embroidered with a trident. Ash had snuck a little smiley face with crossed-out eyes on the corner, in memory of his first shroud.

Annabeth's eyes were puffy from crying as she spoke. "He was probably the bravest friend I've ever had. I... I can't believe that he... HE'S RIGHT THERE!"

"Percy!" Beckendorf grinned. People began surrounding him and clapping him on the back. The crowd parted a little for Chiron and Clarisse, who was rolling her eyes like she couldn't believe he'd had the nerve to survive.