A/N: So, here's the epilogue I was talking about. I really struggled with this, for some reason, something seemed off. But I wrote it and I figured it would be a waste not to post it. Thank you to everyone who wished me well on my exams.

WARNING: This chapter earns its teen rating. Please keep in mind that the characters (who I do not own) are in a committed relationship and are older. Young ones, don't get any ideas.

Swear on the Styx
Epilogue: The Best Choice Ever

"Put me down, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth growled dangerously.

"No," Percy replied cheerfully as he carried a bedraggled Annabeth down the dimly lit corridor to their small apartment. "You'll get blood on the carpet."

"Well, I wouldn't be bleeding if you weren't stupid enough to rush into a fight without armor," she retorted testily. She clutched her left arm to her chest. The wounded limb was currently staining her once pristine white button-up crimson. She wished she could hit Percy and have him feel it.

As it was, from her current position cradled bridal style against his chest, there wasn't much damage she could do. However, something had to be done since this was the second battle Percy had carried her away from when she was perfectly capable of walking. It was going to put a dent in her formidable reputation if he kept this up. The other demigods might think she was going soft.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting to run into my old friend the Minotaur on my way to class this morning," Percy said sarcastically as he approached their weathered door. Annabeth reached down between them with her good arm and fished the key out of his jeans pocket. Percy grinned at her suggestively. Annabeth just rolled her eyes and undid the lock. Percy kicked the door open.

"It's not like I need armor anyway," he reasoned. "Stay here." He deposited her gently on the kitchen chair and rounded the wooden screen that separated the kitchen from their bedroom.

"Certain parts of you do," Annabeth reminded him darkly. "If that horn had come any closer to your…" she shook her frazzled ponytail and rose. She was about to make toward the sink when Percy returned, carrying their camp-issued first aid kit.

"Sit down," he commanded, placing a palm on Annabeth's head and pressing her back into her seat. Really, Annabeth thought, this was getting ridiculous. She could bind her own wounds.

"And it wasn't even close," Percy countered her previous statement. She glared at his back as he wet a clean cloth, using his powers to seduce water from the old and temperamental tap.

"Close enough," Annabeth muttered. And it had been close; another six inches on the monster's one charge and Percy would have been shishkabobed right through his mortal point. Annabeth had thrown her left arm out wildly and ended up intercepting the blow with her skin.

"You were really worried, weren't you?" Percy stated incredulously as he sat down in the adjoining chair. He carefully wrapped his fingers around her wrist and began to clean her arm tenderly. He glanced up at her from underneath his ever unruly fringe to gauge her reaction.

"Yes," Annabeth admitted, finally allowing herself to feel the full weight of her fear. The knowledge of what might have been shook her, despite the fact that Percy was still alive and being his usual infuriating self. Really, she could take care of herself. She sagged back into the rickety chair with a sigh.

"I'm sorry," Percy said sincerely, placing a small kiss on her newly clean palm. Annabeth's skin tingled pleasantly where his lips had been. Percy set the cloth aside, rummaging through the wooden box for his next tools.

"We're almost out of ambrosia and nectar," Percy noted as he surveyed the kit. "I'll have to IM Chiron for more." He slid a bottle of the amber liquid across the table. Annabeth took the last swig of the godly drink as Percy dabbed salve on the sizable gash.

"I think you need armor more than I do," Percy said lightly, looking up meaningfully from his task.

"Of course," Annabeth drawled, "but I had just finished my interview when I looked out the window and saw sirens blaring toward campus. Somehow I just knew it was you in trouble." She had been right, of course. She'd sprinted the three blocks from the architecture firm she'd been attempting to get an internship at, already drawing her dagger out of her purse and trying to calculate how much of her movement would be limited by the heels and pencil skirt she was wearing. The outfit had been a gift from her stepmom and Annabeth really didn't have the heart to tell her that it had been ripped to shreds in a monster attack.

Percy knotted the white bandage and smiled at her. "We'll both try better next time," he said firmly, diffusing a potential argument. Annabeth half thought of pressing her point further but wasn't in the mood to argue right now.

"Thanks, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said, holding her arm up for inspection. She noted that the silver cuff she wore on her injured wrist was dirty, she'd have to wash it before the blood got caked in the carvings.

She rose and moved toward the sink, frowning when the tap sprayed water at her when she turned it on. "I hope it doesn't scar," she commented, glancing at the binding as she rinsed the bracelet on her wrist free of gore while trying to keep the bandage dry.

She knew he was there, even before his palms skated up her thighs to grip her hips. His lips met her neck through a tear in the collar of the blouse. "I think your scars are sexy," he murmured.

"See if you're still saying that when I look like Ares," Annabeth snorted as Percy's calloused fingers traced the faint pink line on her hand, the result of a fight with the Hydra their sophomore year.

"Trust me, you could never look like Ares," he assured her emphatically. His mouth found the hollow behind her ear and Percy was rewarded by a slight gasp.

"You know, people are starting to wonder if you beat me," Annabeth informed him casually, revolving slowly to face him. Percy leant his arms on either side of the counter, mischievously trapping her against him. "It is kind of suspicious when I come to class at least once a month bruised and bandaged."

"What do you tell them?" Percy asked curiously, pressing a kiss to each individual finger of the bandaged arm that she had held up to demonstrate her point.

"I tell them I was attacked by a monster. They just assume it was you," Annabeth smirked.

"You do not," Percy grinned. He lifted her off of her feet as she laughed, setting her on the ugly yellow Formica countertop.

"No," Annabeth admitted, "but it's fun to think about." Percy scooted her closer to the edge of the counter, settling himself comfortably between her knees. Annabeth mapped the path of a tendon in his neck, gazing down at him.

"Wise Girl?" he said after a moment, meeting her darkened gray eyes. "Why don't you wear the ring more often?" Annabeth frowned, her hand freezing its current trek through his fabulously mussed up hair.

"My cuff never bothered you before." She watched as her fiancée drew her left arm toward his chest. Percy pressed the small catch that released the fitted metal band from her wrist.

The masterfully engraved cuff had been custom created for Annabeth by Tyson. The celestial bronze bracelet had a reinforced glass compartment which housed her delicate diamond and pearl engagement ring. Annabeth had requested the piece after she almost lost the ring during a particularly nasty fight with a giant.

She watched in confusion as Percy slid the winking band onto her bruised finger, his feather light touch conflicting with his heavily furrowed brow. His behavior was…odd. Usually, Percy was relatively simple to read. He always said exactly what he thought when he thought it. His speech, like most of his actions, was impulsive. Percy wasn't the type to dwell in long contemplative silences. Annabeth found she disliked the wait.

"I never realized that people don't realize what it means," he divulged after a moment with a deceptive shrug. His eyes met hers, piercing and dark. "They don't see the ring in the bracelet and understand," he tried to clarify. "But everyone knows what it means on your finger."

Percy ducked his head again, his face redder in embarrassment than she'd seen it since they'd been teenagers. "Everyone we know knows we're engaged, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said gently, tracing his worry lines.

"Strangers don't," he replied shortly. "And I don't really appreciate weird men looking at you like that."

Annabeth let out a laugh laden with disbelief, finally understanding. "Percy, even you would stare at a girl who was soaking wet, wearing a ripped up blouse and skirt that leave very little to the imagination." Percy's hand splayed on the tanned thigh bared by the aforementioned rip up her skirt.

Annabeth grinned down at him. "I couldn't help being in line of the fire hydrant spray when the Minotaur ran into it. But, I'll invest in pantsuits in the future, if it'll make you feel more secure."

She fisted a hand in the collar of his t-shirt and tugged him up toward her, her legs wrapping around his waist. Her mouth slid over his slowly, evocatively.

"There may be plenty of fish in the sea, but there's only one Seaweed Brain. Understand?" Annabeth quipped, her tone reminiscent of the many strategy lectures she had given him during their camp days.

Percy meshed their lips together once more, his hands molding to the shape of the sensitive skin of her sides. His lips danced from hers down the column of her throat, gently sucking at the junction of her neck and shoulder, making her shudder against him. Annabeth retaliated by pulling him against her with her legs, which garnered a low sigh against her goosebumped flesh.

"This really is a good look for you," he muttered. He lifted her off of the counter, sliding her down his body and to her feet.

Annabeth quirked an eyebrow as Percy's hands fisted in the remaining fabric of her blouse and pulled. The poor excuse for a garment gave way easily with a pathetic rip, buttons flying in every direction of the small kitchen. Percy eased the remains off of her shoulders, leaving Annabeth clad in nothing but her sensible white bra.

"I like this one better," Percy affirmed. She could feel his smile when he kissed her.

"Really?" Annabeth returned playfully, her hands clinging to the navy fabric of his perfectly salvageable t-shirt. Two could play at this game. She tugged, delightfully peeling away the now ruined shirt to reveal her fiancé's delectable chest.

She looked up at Percy from underneath her lashes, her nails lightly scraping the newly exposed territory. "I like this look better too. And Percy," she added, standing up on tiptoes to place her lips right next to his ear, "you smell like Minotaur."

She shoved him away gently, laughter already bubbling out of her throat as she sprinted toward the bathroom, only to be thwarted when his arms wrapped around her waist. He hoisted her hostage against him, ignoring her protests.

"You don't smell like Persephone's garden yourself," Percy returned, skillfully keeping her from escaping despite her struggles.

Annabeth stilled, turning her head to look at him. "And what do you propose we do, genius?" She was unable to squash the Cheshire cat grin that blossomed on her face at his response.

"Why shower, of course." Annabeth bit her lip and allowed herself to be carried, just this once, to the bathroom. Because it was always something to experience when water and a Son of Poseidon were involved.

"You know, I wasn't that worried about those guys looking at you," Percy muttered hours later. His hand stroked absentmindedly through her tousled curls, splayed across his chest.

"Hmmm?" Annabeth hummed, the sound vibrating against his skin. Her eyes were fixed on the hand that rested on his chest. Her engagement ring glinted happily, reflecting the colorful city lights filtering in from the small window.

"I would kind of know if you cheated on me," Percy continued lightheartedly. "I mean, you'd drop dead."

Annabeth raised herself up to scowl down at his lopsided grin. "That wasn't a note of hope I heard in your voice, was it Jackson?" Percy pressed a tender kiss to her jaw.

"No. That was just an observation," Percy defended himself. His expression turned serious, forcing Annabeth to pause in her retort.

"I think that swearing on the Styx was the best decision you ever made. Personally," he added when Annabeth opened her mouth to embark on the usual tirade of good decisions she'd made over the years, most of them involving her somehow saving his 'sorry ass.'

"Well, we're still stuck with each other," Annabeth sighed, resuming her previous resting position. Percy would have been hurt had he not felt the curve of her lips, warm against his skin.

"Forever," Percy added with a longsuffering sigh which earned him a smack from the woman in his arms. Not that he could feel it, but the soft exclamation that followed it meant that she had.

"Goodnight, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said sleepily, her hand trailing down his arm to twine her finger with his. "Don't drool on me."

Annabeth allowed her eyes to drift closed as Percy murmured a reply, his thumb brushing gently over the ring finger of her left hand before he stilled.

Lying there, listening to his heart beat strong and steady beneath her ear, Annabeth couldn't help but think that Percy was, for once, right. While, swearing on the river hadn't been the best tactical move on her part, it was, without a doubt the best decision she had ever made.

Not that she would ever tell him that.

But then again, Annabeth had the nagging feeling that he already knew she agreed. Even if he was a Seaweed Brain.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone for reading! Please leave a review as a parting gift for me!