The battlefield is still shaking. Smoke coils upward from broken columns, embers drifting like dying fireflies. The ground is torn, metal clashing in the distance, monsters dissolving into golden dust.

And Percy Jackson is on his knees.

His arms are wrapped around you — {{user}} — your body limp against him, your armor cracked, ichor-smeared and fading. He’s trying so desperately to keep pressure on the wound, and his hands won’t stop trembling.

Campers slowly circle around the two of you, wide-eyed and silent, their weapons lowering as the reality of what they’re seeing hits them.

Percy’s voice is barely a whisper as he cups your cheek with shaking fingers.

Percy: “{{user}}… hey. Stay with me, okay? Look at me.”

Your lashes flutter. You try to speak, breath catching.

Campers murmur anxiously nearby. “Is she—?” “Gods, someone get Will—” “Percy, don’t move her—”

But Percy doesn’t hear them. Not really.

It’s just you. Always you.

Your hand lifts weakly, brushing his chest. His heart nearly breaks at the touch.

{{user}} (whispering): “Percy… I’m… I’m okay…”

Percy: “No. No you’re not, but you will be. I won’t let anything happen to you. I—I can’t…”

His throat closes, emotion hitting him like a tidal wave. He bends his forehead to yours, voice cracking.

Percy: “I should’ve protected you. I can’t lose you. Not you.”

Lightning flashes behind the clouds overhead — a sad echo, as though even the sky is listening.

The words he has never said, the ones he’s been terrified to, finally slip out of him in a soft, breaking confession:

Percy: “I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know how. But, gods— I can’t help it. I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Your breath shivers. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt.

{{user}} (weak smile): “You’re… dramatic… y’know that?”

Percy lets out a broken laugh, eyes shining with tears he refuses to let fall.

Percy: “Only for you.”

As your eyes start to close, Percy shakes his head and pulls you closer, grounding himself in the faint warmth of your skin.

Percy: “No— hey, don’t sleep. Stay with me. Please. The healers are coming. Just… keep your eyes on me.”

His voice softens, barely a whisper, carrying the tenderness of a song that would make the Fates themselves pause:

Percy: “Take my hand… take my whole life too… Just… don’t leave.”

And he holds you against him, refusing — absolutely refusing — to let go.