What If?

2. I Bargain With the Master of Death

Annabeth couldn't breathe. Or think. Or do anything. She was helpless as she watched her friend fall into Tartarus by himself.

All because she was too slow, too stupid, for not trying to save him earlier. Now she had lost a friend and a quest member. And the best part was that this whole fiasco could have been avoided if only she was faster. Percy would've been standing next to them, tired but laughing.

Stop it. It's wasn't your fault.

If it wasn't, then why did she feel so bad? 

Annabeth heard a strange, strangled, cry. She realized that it was coming from her. Then the sobbing started.

My friend just fell into Tartarus to save me. My friend just fell into Tartarus to save me. Oh, gods...

She was on her knees, sobbing when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Grover. His eyes were tear-stained; his expression solemn as if someone had told him that enchiladas were to be discontinued.

"Annabeth, come on! We—we gotta go. I know it's hard-"

"But what? What? He's gone, and it's all my fault. I killed him, Grover! I killed him! I promised I would be his friend, and I basically threw him into the pits of hell!"

"Don't you think I know that? I was his best friend too, you know." Grover sighed.

Annabeth recoiled at his tone. She had forgotten that Grover knew Percy longer than she did. Annabeth looked back at the pit. It seemed satisfied as if it had gotten what it wanted. The Pit didn't seem too malicious, but the chill in her back was still there. Annabeth tried picking up the stupid bag off the ground but was surprised at how much it weighed.

Why did Percy throw it at me?  She thought. He must have thought it was important. 

But what could be in here? Annabeth had handled the bag before and it hadn't weighed anything. The only thing that was in the bag was money, clothes, and some rations, so what could be so heavy? She decided to have a look. 

As she opened the bag she gasped, startling Grover. 

"What is it—Oh Hades," Grover swore. 

Sitting in the bag, was a two-foot sphere of celestial bronze. 

Zeus's Master Bolt. 

"How?" Annabeth asked. Her mouth went dry; her stomach sunk. 

"It wasn't Percy," Grover said. 

"Grover—" 

"It wasn't him! I know him, he was at Yancy the whole school year, it wouldn't have been possible for him to steal it. He was framed, he must've been!" Grover raved. 

"GROVER!" Annabeth scolded. "I believe you. The bag didn't weigh that much when we first got it. And it sure as Hades didn't weight that much the whole time, or else Percy would've said something. So it must've been recent. Plus," she added, "We were with him the whole time. It would have been impossible for him to stuff something into the bag. And why not take it into Tartarus with him? It doesn't make any sense." 

Annabeth and Grover mulled it over in silence until Grover said the most obvious question on their minds. 

"If Percy didn't do it, who framed him?" 

That's the million-dollar question, isn't it? Annabeth mused. 

"Well, it can't be Hades seeing as if he had the Bolt, why give it to Percy? It wouldn't make any sense. What other god/goddess could it be?"