So, yeah. This is my first ever published fanfic... And I'm excited for it! :D

I'm not sure if I should continue it or not, so for now it's just a one-shot, but if I get enough good reviews, I might be tempted to continue ;) *HINT, HINT HINT HINT!*

It's kind of short, I know, but... Quality over quantity, yes? I dunno. I hope so.

Anyway, here's my disclaimer. I don't own Percy Jackson. Rick Riordan does, and he does WAY better with it than I do XD


Annabeth Chase closes her eyes as Zeus declares him 'too dangerous' and Poseidon roars, and her mother just sits there. Just sits there while the boy her daughter loves is blasted to ash, unfeeling. Unfeeling, lifeless, and gone. He's gone before she can stop them, run in front of him, or even scream. She doesn't even have time to say goodbye. He's gone in a literal flash; Zeus truly goes for theatrics as thousands of volts arc through Percy's body, and Annabeth runs over to the pile of ashes. All that's left of the great hero, Perseus Jackson. She just sits and stares at him, it, whatever she should classify those damn ashes as.

Something in her breaks, and the flimsy denial that had tried to veil the truth (but hardly succeeded) disperses completely as a hand, the hand of her so-called 'mom', falls on her shoulder in some terrible attempt to comfort the broken girl that sits in Annabeth's place.

"Get away from me," she snarls, recoiling from her mother's comforting touch. The logical side of her brain is gone, having left along with Percy. It feels as though most of her is gone, and all that's left is anger, and bitterness, and her empty shell of a body that can only experience unadultered fury and hatred.

A hatred for the gods and everything to do with them. She can't look most of them in the eye anymore, and it feels like any shred of respect she had for the majority of them has gone up in smoke, disappeared in a flash.

Just like Percy.

Annabeth looks into the eyes of the one god she hates the most. She can barely manage it, and the only way she can is because she secretly hopes she somehow managed to adopt the power of Medusa's stare. She wants them all to turn to stone, and she wants to break them apart one by one.

"You all deserve to burn," she says, her voice as calm as can be as she glares into those stormy grey eyes, the eyes she resents having, the eyes she wishes would just show emotion for once. The eyes of her monster of a mother. "May the Fates answer my prayer that you spend the rest of your eternity rotting deep in the bowels of Tartarus." She turns away from her mother easily, instead looking deep into Poseidon's eyes. "I'm sorry for your loss. I... I can't imagine how you must feel." This is a lie; she has a pretty good idea how much it hurts to lose someone you loved. She just had. "I..." Her stormy grey eyes flicker around the room, and she deliberately looks into the eyes of the only gods she didn't hate. Hestia, with her flickering eyes of flame. Hermes, his eyes glittering with unshed tears for the loss of his own son. Hades, his black eyes filled with something she never expected from the Lord of the Dead; compassion. And lastly, Artemis, whose eyes shine like moonlight.

"I hope you have a wonderful rest of eternity," she tells them, her voice overflowing with sincerity. Annabeth looks down at herself and frowns as she unstraps her knife, cutting the straps off her armor, wincing at the loud clattering sound it makes as it hit the floor. She isn't fighting anymore, she's mourning. Her black camouflage shows as much. She throws her knife on the floor, and with one last scornful look at a rather shocked Zeus, Annabeth Chase walks out of the throne room, into the elevator, and away from the gods with a dignified air about her.

The fa├žade quickly slips as soon as the elevator doors slide shut. Her face crumples, and she slides down the wall as her body wracks with uncontrollable sobs. She wraps her arms around her stomach, trying to keep the large hole there from ripping open even further and swallowing her whole. The pain is gnawing at her, taking her sanity bit by bit, and it's almost mind-numbing. Almost. But it just isn't enough. She can still feel. She wishes she couldn't, she wishes she wasn't human; this is worse than carrying the weight of the sky. That felt like she was on fire, but this... this felt like every nerve was exploding, combusting, twisting and erupting, like she isn't carrying the weight of the sky, she's carrying the weight of the world, the sun. Hell, she has the entire universe on her shoulders, and there's no way of getting rid of the terrible pain.

A small part of her brain, the only part of her brain that isn't ridden with agony, starts to wonder if this is all a dream. Surely there's nothing in this world that can make her feel this bad? Still, she can't slow the gut-wrenching sobs that are choking her, making her tremble and wheeze and hiccup. She's too occupied to notice the arm around her at first, but she quickly finds herself melting into Nico di Angelo's side as he attempts to comfort her, whispering words in her ear that she can't understand, and she past this strange gibberish she can hear cries so close to her own; Sally Jackson obviously understands what Annabeth's heartbroken demeanor means. The sadness for the other broken woman is fleeting, because all the young blond can think is it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair.

Maybe minutes, maybe hours, maybe days pass before Annabeth can finally breath again, though it's still hard, as though she's wearing a tie that's too tight, or the room is running out of air. It takes her a moment to realize she's no longer in the elevator, she's in the lobby of the Empire State Building. Her surroundings don't matter, though. Annabeth is too distracted by the fact that everyone looks so normal, like today is business as usual, as if people weren't falling apart only a few feet away from them. That she's totally ruined.

She registers that Nico is offering to help, that he's willing to summon Percy for a goodbye. But Annabeth knows that won't help. It would only hurt her more, knowing that would be it. The last time. There was no point in hurting herself again. She would adopt a false hope.

Besides, Percy Jackson is just too far gone.


Continue? Yes? No? Maybe so?

Oh, and see the little button down there? Says 'Review' on it? I double-dog dare you to click it :)