A/N: Is this really my 30th fic? Wow. I feel so accomplished. Anyway, hope you all like this. One-sided LeoxAnnabeth. Inspired by the song Never Know by Jimmy Robbins. Enjoy, and please leave your thoughts in a review!

Never Know

You just know it could be great. If she would just give you one chance and let go of what everyone else expects, let go of what she thinks she wants because that's what's supposed to happen (even though it doesn't have to).

You can see it so clearly.

She'd resist at first, of course. A lot. But you wouldn't stop trying. You'd keep asking, waiting patiently until she finally, finally admits that she likes you. A confession like that would take a while, you know, but even a smile would be welcome with all the effort you would have put in by that point. Or maybe if those hard, determined eyes (that you secretly admire so much) soften for just a minute when she looks at you. And then that small moment of warmth would turn into a genuine smile (not like those pained half smiles she gives now, the ones that don't reach her eyes all because of him), and then a laugh (you haven't heard one from her yet, but you somehow know that it'll be the most beautiful sound in the world), and then friendly banter, and then…

And then you'd have her. She'd feel guilty for a bit, for betraying him like that, but you would help her get over it. No, not over it—every single part of her would be precious to you. You'd help her through it, support her, even if he yells at her and says that he'll never forgive her for what she's done. But she'll be okay, as long as she leans on you. You'll always be there for her, present but not overbearing. She'll know that she can count on you. You'll be her bulwark, her safe harbor, the place where she knows she'll be loved and accepted and cared for.

You know that she's independent, of course. She won't always need someone to shield her. She's strong and brave and tough… but you think, even though you don't know her that well yet, that somewhere inside she's scared and fragile. Eventually, she'll let you in and you'll be able to heal her, to support her and reassure her that you'll never betray her or hurt her like the people in her past have. You know that she's probably heard that promise before, but you'll mean it with all your heart and mind and soul. You would burn the promise into your arm (you'd find a way) if it would convince her. Although you're pretty sure by that point she wouldn't like that very much.

She'll love you, too. Slowly, slowly, she'll let herself fall. She'll be free for the first time. She would laugh at your jokes, even the stupid ones, and smack you when she's annoyed and scream at you when you fight. And you know that you would cherish every single second of it (even if you accidentally set something on fire a few times when you're angry) because she will have chosen you. You, over all the other great (and not-so-great) guys who would have gladly made her theirs. But you'll be the one who gets to hold her and kiss her and see her day after day after day, because you'll be hers as much as she'll be yours.

And you'll go through it all together, side by side. You'll be your own people, of course—you'd never want to take away all the wonderful things about her that make her her—but it'll be like two souls fused together. You'll laugh and cry and fight battles and hold hands. You'll grow old and complain about it the whole way and tease each other. Maybe one day you'd even have kids, and you would secretly (or maybe not so secretly) hope that they look just like her.

You'll love her to the end of the earth and back. And if she can die any second, wouldn't she rather spend it with someone who loves her?

She stares at you, eyebrows raised in a perfect, skeptical, dubious arch. She's surprised by what you're saying, what you're asking. You can almost see her hesitating, thinking over your words, but…

But unfortunately, the key word here is almost.

She's dead set on the course she's on right now. She's going to find him, and they'll have their happily ever after, just like everyone expects. The Aphrodite cabin (and maybe the Venus cabin too) will squeal and say that they're, like, totally perfect for each other, and Chiron will smile at finally seeing two great heroes get the fairy-tale ending that everyone always hopes for. Their parents won't like it, but they'll grudgingly accept that their kids just click and that they're too stubborn to be torn apart. Everyone will say that they just knew it would happen, and the heroes will have the life they deserve after all those years of hardship.

And you'll be left behind without ever having a chance. You'll be the fool who tried and failed, the one forgotten. The one people can't quite recall at first, and then go 'Ohh, him. I remember now,' like you're just a minor detail in the beloved fairy tale that sometimes gets cut out. You definitely won't make it into the Disney version, that's for sure.

She bites her lip, pity filling her eyes now. (You pretend that you don't see a little bit of anger and maybe even amusement in there as well.) You know that she's trying to figure out how to cut you down not-too-harshly, and you'll know that she'll find the words pretty soon, because there isn't a puzzle she can't solve.

"I'm sorry," she says. "But that's just not what I want. I love him, and I need to get him back."

You swallow. You knew it was coming, but it stills hurts to hear her rejection in so many words. "Yeah," you croak out, all the fiery passion and desperation gone from your voice. "I kinda figured you'd say that." You must look pretty pathetic, because the sympathy in her eyes grows and her face softens just a tiny bit, just like you always imagined but not at all for the reason you wanted.

"There's someone out there for you," she says quietly. "You just have to keep looking. She'll come to you someday." And she walks up onto the top deck to get ready for the next chapter in her epic love story.

She's wrong, for once. Your someone won't come to you. Because your someone has just left you behind without more than a pity-filled backward glance, and she'll never know what could have been.