PJO Oneshots

Another One Where Percy Dies... :)

WARNING: This is some of my early writing, so it is extremely mediocre.

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Spoon feeding a comatose demigod was not Annabeth's idea of a fun afternoon. When Chiron said he had a job for her, she expected it to be fun. Or, even just interesting. It was neither.

She sighed as she fed him more and more of the ambrosia, smiling when he blinked open his eyes. She wanted to say some stupid joke about him being a baby, you know, to lighten the mood, but that's when the coughing started.

He lay there, coughing and sputtering, harsher than Annabeth had ever seen. She called for help, but no one seemed to hear her. The only thing she could do, was hold his outstretched hand. Maybe in any other circumstance it would be awkward, but this was far beyond the time for that.

The harshest ones came, and his hand went stiff. It grew cold in Annabeth's tightened grip. She heard the door open, but she didn't pay any mind to it.

He was dead.

It seemed odd. She was accustomed to death by now. They were almost friends. It had been around her since she was young. But this one stung the most.

She didn't even know the kid. He was just another infirmary patient. Scrawny and pale.

But it stung like hell.

She felt someone try to pull her away from him, but she wouldn't budge. Her shoulders were shaking and the tears just weren't stopping.

"What happened child?"

It was Chiron.

"He... just started coughing. And then-" Annabeth sniffled. "He went still."

The boy was carried out of the infirmary then. Annabeth walked beside him, staring at his solemn face. It even looked as if he didn't want to die. He was only twelve anyway.

Campers were starting to gather, looking at the child on the gurney. They weren't very fazed, nor were they sure why Annabeth was. Soon everyone had seen the boy passing by. Young and feeble as he looked.

Then, a bright blue light shone above him. Annabeth looked up, and it was a trident. The camp gasped. The world stood still for those moments.

The pale blue light managed to make him look even more ghastly.

A son of Posiedon. Now there was no question. He was the child of the prophecy, and he was dead.

"Wait." Chiron called.

The gurney was stopped, and the camp held its breath. Annabeth stared down at the boy, praying to the gods for a miracle.

A giant gasping breath echoed throughout the camp. He was alive. The child of the prophecy was alive.

Without thinking, Annabeth hugged him. "Please don't die again."