Annabeth used to think that she deserved to be happy.
She used to think that after everything she'd done, after everything that she went through, after everything that she'd given, she deserved to be happy.
And maybe that sounded selfish, that she deserved happiness. But she didn't really care how it sounded. All she knew is that she'd sacrificed so much. Too much.
When Annabeth was younger, all she ever wanted was to be remembered. She wanted to be one of the great heroes that they sang songs about, the ones that lived on centuries after they were gone. She wanted to be one of the heroes that they told stories about.
But after all the wars she'd fought in, the battles she'd won, the pain she'd endured, Annabeth figured that she'd done enough to be remembered for. At that point, all she could hope for was a happy ending.
Annabeth used to think that she deserved to be happy. That she deserved grow old with the person she loved. To take their kids to camp one day. To realize that the story being told around the campfire was about her and her friends. She used to think that she deserved her happy ending. She'd done her part. She'd done what was asked of her, endured hardships, shouldered too many deaths to count. She deserved to be happy, right?
Staring at his burning shroud, the only thing she had left of him, Annabeth didn't feel like she deserved anything at all.
She felt like someone had reached into her chest and ripped her heart out while it was still beating. The pain just wouldn't go away.
Chiron was saying something. Annabeth tuned it out. She couldn't hear anything but those words. Over and over and over again they tortured her.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he'd told her, gasping for breath. His words rang in her ears. She had watched the light leave his eyes. Felt his hand go limp, and cold.
Annabeth's fists clenched. How dare he? How dare he be sorry? He left her! He left her alone. Everyone she'd ever loved had left. Every last one. Why had she thought he would be any different?
As soon as the short burst of anger came, it faded. She couldn't be angry with him. He hadn't wanted to leave her.
Annabeth watched numbly as his shroud burned away to ash, the pleasant smell of the sea filling her nose. She didn't think she'd ever be able to smell the ocean again without thinking of him.
Everything they'd been through. Every close call, every celebration, every fight, every kiss. Gone. All of it died with him.
Annabeth used to think she deserved to be happy. Not anymore. She wouldn't get her hopes up like that, not ever again. She used to think she deserved to be happy, but all she'd been given was pain. She should've known. Heroes don't get happy endings.
(I'm pretty sure that's not exactly what they expected when they made "happy" a prompt tbh)
