Children of the Big Three Book 4: Battle of the Labyrinth

Chapter Nine: Aliving Ontop of a Pray

"Woah-Oh! We're have way there!"

"Woah-Oh! Lemon on a pear!"

A playful hit landed on Percy's shoulder as the two walked the horrid halls of the labyrinth. The two had gotten to talking, and there was just something about Annabeth that Percy found.. Easy to talk to. They bounced off of each other nicely, and she laughed at his jokes, and that was basically all it took to be his friend.

"You can't do that! That's cheating and you know it, Perce!"

"How is that cheating?!" Percy responded, a toothless smile adorning her face.

"You just said apple and a pear!"

"Yeah, well last time I checked, a lemon and and apple are completely different fruits."

"You a bitch."

"And you're the Bitch's friend."

"Touché."

As the two wandered the ever confusing corridors of the labyrinth, the two found themselves naturally picking a direction and just going for it. They didn't have to argue about it, she didn't have to send a minor voltage through his body, they just.. Agreed on stuff, and then did stuff. It was definitely different, and to be honest, it was pretty refreshing. The pathways darkened, and Percy was dragged out of his thoughts by a hand placing itself upon his exposed forearm. It was cold, but it was from the environment around; not the hand itself. The Son of Poseidon slowly drifted his free hand to meet Annabeth's, gently, afraid that if he touched her hand too much, she'd break.

"Percy, I-Uh, it's dark in here."

"Yeah, I.. I get that." The sound of their footsteps faded away from the duo's consciousness, but neither Percy nor Annabeth seemed to know if they were still walking. All The Son of Poseidon could hear was Annabeth's breathing, and vice versa. He took his hand off of hers, and he could have sworn The Daughter of Athena's hand twitched in response. He dug into his pocket, and uncapped Riptide. The dull light of Celestial Bronze illuminated the area around them. What he saw was that they had stopped, but they weren't exactly in the pose he had been expecting. Annabeth was in front of Percy, her fair, pale skin shining in the dim light, her dark stormy eyes having droplets of tears etched; her expression lacking the comedic air it had to it earlier, opting instead for one of solemn sadness. Riptide clanged to the brick floor, his hand instead reaching out to Annabeth, who let the Son of Poseidon put a hand on her shoulder. Her lip trembled, and the two just stood there a moment, bathed in the light of Riptide.

"What's wrong, Annabeth?"

"There's, so much."

"I'm here for you. It's okay."

"There's so much I shouldn't have done, there's so much.. Regret. There's so much suffering, so much hate, so much blood on my hands." Annabeth shut her eyes, a few tears beginning to strike its way down the girls face. Percy brought up the hand that Annabeth had attached her hand to the forearm of, and wiped them away, keeping his hand on her cheek despite his better judgement. Percy's next statement came out a whisper, even to him, so he wasn't sure that she'd hear it.

"Who would you be without any of that?"

"What?"

"In your perfect world, what are you like?"

"Percy-"

"Just-Humor me? Please?"

Annabeth sighed, but could see he wasn't gonna budge on this. "Well, I think I'd be tanner, for one. That me had time to get out there more. Wouldn't be cooped up plotting everyone's death-"

"Hey." Percy's voice was solid, dragging her away from that line of thought.

"Uh, right. Well.. My eyes would be lighter, unburdened, free to bound from activity to activity."

"What kind of activities? This perfect you got any hobbies?"

"Hm.. Capture the flag, obviously. I'd whoop the entire team every week. When I was younger, I was really into architecture. I could see myself doing some of that when I'm older. And maybe.. That me has someone really close to her, someone that she can really trust." Annabeth's voice has dropped to a whisper, and Percy's soon followed.

"And.. What's this someone like?"

"He's impulsive, reckless, and a bit immature. But he's also kind, brave, and heroic. He's the type of person who would throw himself on a fire for a friend without hesitation. He's the type of person who would throw his reputation away just to sit with a loser at lunch. He's the type of person who time and time again put his life on the line for those he cares about, even if the ones he cares about don't quite deserve someone like him." Annabeth released his forearm, her hand instead reaching up to his hair. She was shorter than him by a couple inches so it was a bit of a sight to watch her ruffle through his hair, but that wasn't really what Percy's mind was on at the moment. "He'd be my seaweed brain, and I'd be his wise-girl." Annabeth let off a small smile, a soft one, that Percy had never seen before. The Son of Poseidon had to admit, he did rather enjoy seeing her face perk up like that.

"Annabeth, I.." He didn't know what to say. What was there to say? He was with Thalia, and he was happy with Thalia. But, it always seemed the dates were tearing them apart. First they were separated, then he was kidnapped, now she just up and abandons them for some side-quest; that she hadn't even told him about! And there was just; something about Annabeth. Some sort of pull towards her that he had felt since she rejoined the camp last year. What if.. What if Thalia wasn't his destiny?

Those thoughts would have to wait, however. A screech, a horrifying scream he'd never have the displeasure of hearing before echoed through the hall. Within a moment, Percy and Annabeth were back to back, Riptide in The Son of Poseidon's hand, and The Daughter of Athena wielding her knife. It was odd, with just a noise, Percy's hand was shaking, he felt like running, there was no way they could beat whatever this was! "Who goes there!?"

"Well, that depends on who you ask." The voice certainly didn't match the sound. It was nasally, and for lack of a better word, a little dorky. "The Gods have taken to calling me Pan. But to you guys.." A figure emerged, with two little stubby horns, some stubble of a beard, a camp half-blood t-shirt, and hooved feet. Annabeth's knife clanked against the ground, and her eyes widened. The Satyr just smiled.

"You can call me Grover."