Warning: This story contains character death and copious amounts of angst. If you like rainbow ponies and sparkly butterflies, this is not the piece for you.
Disclaimer: I am not Rick Riordan. Therefore, I do not own Percy Jackson. Enjoy!
Annabeth wasn't supposed to die. Not like this.
She wasn't supposed to leave behind young children, a father, siblings. She wasn't supposed to die in some stupid, underhanded, sneaky way – wasting away bit by bit, getting slowly but steadily thinner. Annabeth was supposed to die, if too early, then in a blaze of glory, fighting off monsters and battling demons, saving the world.
It wasn't supposed to be cancer.
Everything had been wonderful, in the beginning. Annabeth had been so fresh, so zealous, so full of life. Everything had been going well. A job, little twin boys, a title as one of the Heroes of the Second War. There had been nothing but hope and a full, long life ahead of her. Nothing could go wrong for her or her family.
And then had come the fever. And the night sweats. And the bruising, and the bleeding, and the joint pain, and every other symptom rushing in at once, like a terrible flood. It left nothing -nothing- of the old Annabeth. After the flood, sickly, weak Annabeth was all that was left. This new Annabeth had swollen lymph nodes. She had too-frequent infections, and was always tired, and lost ten pounds in the space of a week. This Annabeth was a shadow of the old one.
Then the doctors gave the verdict, and that verdict was like holding up the sky again and again – taking a poison dagger to the stomach again and again.
And she was brave, of course. Annabeth was the bravest out of everyone – she seemed to be the most at peace with her approaching death. ("I'll get to see Silena, won't I? And Beckendorf and Pollux and Bianca...don't you worry about me, I'll be with them, I'll be happy, won't I?")
But her courage could not sweeten the diagnosis for anyone else. The Gods were subdued. The campers were confused, but understood that Annabeth's death would be a blow to this generation of Demigods. And when Annabeth died, surrounded by twin boys, a father, siblings, and campers, it rained. Because she had left them. Because she had leftme. Her Seaweed Brain. And she wasn't supposed to do that.
But that's all right, isn't it? Because I'll be seeing her now...
AN: And that's it. Make of it what you'd like. Feel free to drop a review or PM – if not, thanks for reading!