Ink and Bruises (Heroes of Olympus Soulmates AU)

Percy

Bottle, glass, stairs.

Falling.

Blood? Red.

Lights. Screaming. Voices. Crying.

Whispers. Shushing.

Sounds like snakes.

Mom?

I feel like I'm floating, suspended underwater.

Numb.

Nothingness...

I fight to go back to sleep, enjoying the warmth of my bed even as the incessant beeping of my alarm clock tugs me towards consciousness. Still only half conscious I wonder why my mom hasn't come in to wake me up yet. Usually my alarm is a last resort and my mom wakes me up before she leaves for work. As my senses return to me I realize that that beeping is not the sound of my alarm, I try to roll over and panic when I realize I can't.

I gasp, my eyes shooting open, as the events of yesterday come back to me. Gabe. The staircase. A firm shove. Falling forwards down the stairs. A sharp pain. Everything going black.

Shit.

I stop struggling to move and instead take in my surroundings. I'm in a hospital bed propped up on thin pillows and hooked up to a million beeping machines. One of my legs is wrapped in a cast, my throat is dry and sore, and my head is throbbing. An IV is dripping steadily into my arm. My mom is standing across the tiny hospital room, talking in hushed tones to a sandy haired man and a dark haired woman I don't know, as well as an important looking man in a suit.

I painfully turn my head and am met with the sight of a horribly bruised (yet still very beautiful) face and a pair of tired grey eyes. Annabeth.

Oh shit. I guess it's official then, she really is my soulmate. Well, that's not necessarily a bad thing, in fact it's without a doubt the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. But she's hurt because of me.

I'm a terrible soulmate. Annabeth deserves so much better than me.

She smiles at me, her grey eyes lighting up, and winces as she brings a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture, being careful not to pull out the IV connected to her.

I offer her a smile of my own, wincing as a spike of pain shoots through my bruised face. Then we just lie there, gazing into each other's eyes, enjoying the peaceful moment together, although I can't force my guilt to go away. This is all my fault.

Something in my face must have tipped her off however, as she fixes me with a look that's equal parts fond and exasperated.

"It's not your fault," she whispers, her voice hoarse and painful. I'm not sure whether it's from her or not but the ache in my throat becomes a sharp pain as she speaks.

"It is," I say back, my voice as hoarse as hers. My mouth tastes terrible and it feels like I've been gargling with fire. "I'm so-

"-Don't" she says sharply, before coughing painfully, making my throat feel like it's melting and forcing a few tears from my eyes. I can both see and feel the effort it's taking for her to talk. "Don't apologize. You've been apologizing my entire life, for injuries that were never your fault."

"But-"

"-No buts. It's not your fault. It never has been. Now please shut up seaweed brain, my throat is hurting."

My heart leaps at the nickname, the beeping of my heart monitor speeding up. I've seen it written on my arm dozens of times but it's different hearing her say it. In person, it's even more special.