Disclaimer: R^2 is the bossman.

Percy

_._._._._._._

Percy felt a single bead of sweat slide down his neck under the hot California sun. That and the combination of parries and thrusts of his sword after a while was enough to bypass the usual perks of his odd invulnerability. He and Reyna had been paired up for endurance training for that evening, and the Romans left no room for error or weakness. He and Reyna were back-to-back fighting off numerous attackers; they had been at it for almost an hour and Reyna showed no signs of letting up. The drill was designed to run until one of them was hit. And seeing as how Percy was invulnerable…

But finally, the lesson ended. Percy heard Reyna let out a surprised yelp of pain and fell to the ground. As Percy turned around, he saw Reyna sitting on the ground clutching her arm, the blood already seeping through her purple shirt. A sudden jolt of fear ran through Percy and panic momentarily paralyzed him. Then he was at her side in a flash, his sword ready to fight off any more attackers.

Reyna, however, just grunted and said, "Alright, that's enough for today."

Percy was still in a somewhat wild panic. "Aren't you hurt? You could have died."

Reyna stared with bewilderment at his frantic outbursts. "It's a flesh wound. On my shoulder. I fine." Percy forced himself to relax once he heard the scoff in her voice.

"Err, right. The blood just looked…bad," he finished lamely, trying to regain some dignity.

Reyna rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You're dismissed to shower early and turn in." Percy nodded and re-capped his sword.

As he walked back to his barrack, Percy replayed the event in his head. Funny how for a second when he turned around he thought Reyna was a blonde.

_._._._._._._

That night, a memory came back to Percy.

It was not an unusual dream for demigods to dream of monsters and battles, but this was different. The battle was fierce, but even in the mayhem, Percy was able to recognize the scene was in New York City. He had had this dream before

His dream self was taking out enemies left and right and the feeling was a mix of pride and despair. As always in this dream, he could feel the presence of a girl at his side and fighting with him. He knew—the way one sometimes just know things in a dream—that she was fighting with a knife, and he knew that they were perfectly attuned to each other. Usually in this dream, whenever he turned to look at the girl, he never could. But tonight, the dream was different.

Instead of waking up to a pounding heart and clenched fists, he heard a cry of pain.

"Annabeth!" his dream-self called out. As he turned, he saw the girl fall to the ground, clasping her arm and her face contorted with pain. Percy felt a chill in his spine that he didn't quite understand. "Get back!" his dream-self yelled, slashing his sword wildly. "No one touches her!"

"Interesting," hissed a voice that had haunted many nights of Percy's sleep.

Percy looked up to see a boy not too much older than himself towering over him on a skeletal horse. He could have been good looking if not for the sneer caused a long scar on his face to twist viciously, and if not for the glowing golden eyes that contained a millennium's worth of hatred and evil.

"Bravely fought, Percy Jackson. But it's time to surrender…or the girl dies," the figure gloated. Percy wanted to reply, but his attention was on the girl.

"Percy, don't," she moaned, blood flowing through her fingers.

For a moment, Percy felt that paralyzing pain. Not his dream-self —the one who yelled, "Blackjack!" to the sky— but the Percy who had no knowledge of himself could think only one thought: save her.

In the time frame of what seemed to be an exaggerated blink, the scene changed. Percy was standing on a hotel balcony overlooking the city. He looked around, confused, for a second before noticing the girl lying prone on a plush lounge chair, eyes shut tightly.

Percy walked forward a moment earlier than he wished to— preferring to study the girl a moment longer before approaching her— and that's when he realized this was no longer a fragmented dream; it was a memory.

As he got closer to her, her name suddenly sprang to his lips.

"Annabeth." Then, her eyes opened.

The second he saw the longing and pain in those devastating grey eyes, Percy wanted to pull her into his arms and whisper to her that it would be alright. But in this memory, he was powerless. No matter what he wished he could do, he was like a marionette; his body was being pulled by strings without his permission by some unknown puppeteer.

"Poison on the dagger. Pretty stupid of me, huh?" she mumble, sounding tired.

Percy felt himself being lowered onto his knees next to the lounger. He felt himself reach up and place a hand on her forehead. Poison? He thought. Shouldn't she be burning up? But then he became even more confused because he didn't know who this girl was and therefore why he feeling so upset—and, for that matter, guilty.

"You're cute when you're worried," she muttered. "You're eyebrows get all scrunched together."

"You are not going to die while I owe you a favor." Even in his memory-less state, Percy knew this was a weak attempt at humor. "Why did you take that knife?" Why, he thought. I'm invulnerable. I'm safe. Why does this hurt me too?

"You would have done the same for me." Her reply was immediate.

The next thing he said confused him to no end. "How did you know?" His voice was no more than a whisper.

"Know what?" The strained voice didn't fit the phrase quite right.

At that moment, Percy felt every bit of anger and misery that had been stewing inside him because of the loss of these memories. Who had the right to take this away from him? He wanted to understand all of the hate and sorrow and longing that hung over him like a wet blanket, nearly suffocating him.

"My Achilles spot. If you hadn't taken that knife, I would've died."

Annabeth closed her eyes again. "I don't know, Percy." A thrill went through him when she spoke his name. "I just had this feeling you were in danger. Where…where is the spot?"

This was something that had troubled Percy since he had started training with the Romans. He didn't know. He figured he must have a weakness, but he also knew that he had to keep it to himself. Without anyone to confirm or deny it, Percy was left guessing.

"The small of my back." Percy said quietly.

"Where? Here?"

Then, Percy had her hand in his and gently placed it on his back. When her fingers tentatively rested on his spine, it felt as if every nerve in his body went haywire. At the same moment, he felt as if a pressing weight was released from the atmosphere. It was more than that, though; it was like the strings on his limbs were cut, and he was no longer a puppet. He was dreaming again.

"You saved me. Thanks," Percy said softly, reveling in the feeling of freedom.

Annabeth hesitated a second. "So you owe me. What else is new?" Her voice was thick with unshed tears.

Hesitantly, Percy reached out and took her hand. He tried to remember the rough calluses caused by years of training and the tender brush of her long fingers against his.

A moment later, Annabeth shifted over on the lounge chair and patted the space next to her. Percy was afraid if he let go of her she might cease to be with him, but he mustered the courage to let it go in order to lie next to her. As they lay facing each other, Percy took the time to stare into her stormy eyes, willing the act to bring back his memories like these. A strong gust of wind shook the terrace and flung strands of Annabeth's hair across her face. Purely as a reflex, Percy reached out to tuck it behind her ear. This made Annabeth's eyes grow sad.

"You have to stop disappearing like this, Percy," she said in a tortured whisper. He looked at her for a moment and tried to make sense of the flurry of emotions rising. He managed to grasp one of the hundreds of thoughts raging in his head and decided to go with it. He pulled her into his chest and rested his cheek on her head. He felt an ache at the familiarity.

"I know," he said, and somehow, he did. "I'm sorry. But you'll look for me right? You'll try to find me?" He didn't know if he could live if this wasn't real.

She didn't reply for a moment. In a whisper she said, "I don't know where else to look."

Then the words started pouring out of him "You've never given up on me before," he declared. He let his fingers find the grey streak she always tried to keep hidden by the rest of her curls. He felt her nod, but he needed more than that. "Promise me."

He felt her pull back an inch, but only to fiddle with her necklace, which was almost the same as the one he was found with. She re-clasped it around her neck and placed a heavy ring in his palm. She curled his hand around it before whispering, "I promise."

Percy felt a thrill of hope and the sudden feeling gave him the courage to bring their lips together. For a while, they were the same breath in two bodies and just a tangle of limbs. All Percy could think of was how this was so right and that every day of Legion training would be worth it to find his way home again. He whispered Annabeth's name again and again, as if it might make her stay.

But too soon, Percy felt a wave of tiredness sweep over him. He pulled Annabeth close and buried his face in her hair, silently begging for this moment not to end. But even as a deeper level of sleep overtook him, he refused to let go.

_._._._._._._

Percy felt fatigue well up in him when he opened his eyes the next morning. His dream was something entirely new, and he did not want it to be a one time thing.

He heard Bobby yelling throughout the barracks for the soldiers to get up, and Percy wished for nothing more than another night to dream away. Percy realized he was clenching his fists and slowly let them relax. As the feeling returned to his hands, Percy felt an odd weight in one of them. He cautiously uncurled his fist…

…and found a gold college ring resting in his palm.

A/N: Yup. Angst, how I missed thee.

Companion to: Somnium Mederi Suam Cordilium