I'm back, and better than ever. Sort of.

So, any guesses as to how Annabeth got knocked on her butt? Because it will be revealed at the end of this chapter, and DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT SKIPPING AHEAD. I'm warning you.

Nope. Still don't own, people.

O-o-O

I seriously love New York. You can just wander the city without even stopping at a single tourist attraction or overpriced store and still have the time of your life.

"This is weird. No monster attacks, no unexpected visitors, no kidnappings. Something must be wrong with the universe."

That most insightful comment came from my stupid but admittedly cute boyfriend, Percy, also known as Seaweed Brain. "Yeah, a relaxing walk through the city. What could go wrong?"

"You know better than to ask that question. Everything goes wrong around us."

"Around you, Seaweed Brain. The universe doesn't have it out for me."

As it turns out, I was wrong about that. I really hate being wrong.

"Wait." Percy grabbed my arm before I could step in front of an alleyway, pushing both of us against the brick wall of a hotel and holding up a finger to stop my oncoming question. "Does something seem wrong to you?"

My eyes fell on a trash can lid near the mouth of the alley, sans trash can, which could have just meant some homeless guys scavenging for discarded food. But I couldn't see the actual can anywhere. The lid looked dented, and I mean more than usual, and there was something else off about it…

"Are those bite marks?" I whispered.

"That's what I thought. Monster?"

"Maybe. You're being strangely observant today."

"I had caffeine. Want me to go check it out?"

I pulled my cap out of my back pocket and waved it in his face, which made him stick his tongue out at me. I rolled my eyes at him as I pulled it over my head, and when I looked down, my body had vanished. Thanks, Mom.

"Watch my back," I whispered in his ear.

"Sort of hard to do when you're invisible."

I didn't bother to reply and slipped around the corner, scanning the ground for trash so I wouldn't step on it and make noise. The place was an absolute minefield of hamburger wrappers and soda cans, so it took me a minute to navigate into the shadows and away from all the traffic noises. Once I did, though, there were snuffling and clanking sounds coming from somewhere in front of me, although it was too dark to see. But I'd been in the alleyway behind my dad's house enough to recognize the sounds of a dog digging for meals in people's trash. If, that is, the dog were the size of a truck.

I didn't think so.

I crouched behind a dumpster for a minute while my eyesight adjusted enough to see, then peeked deeper into the alley. Roughly twenty feet away, a huge hellhound had its nose stuck in a garbage can.

I fingered my knife in the waistband of my jeans while I considered the options I had, which weren't that many. I could sit here and do nothing until it left, since it couldn't see me and chances were it wouldn't be able to smell me with its snout buried in rotting trash, but it wasn't smart to take chances. I could also try and signal Percy to get him down here, but that would most likely get me killed before he could get a chance of help. And, of course, I could try to take the thing myself, which could almost be counted as suicide.

Of course I took the suicidal option, because I had managed to convince myself that killing an oversized mutt really couldn't be that hard. All I had to do was sneak up on it while it was scrabbling around in the trash, stick my knife in it, and go on my merry way.

It didn't work out according to plan.

I shifted my weight forward, preparing to get up, and my knee—which I had messed up in training the year before—made the tiniest popping noise.

I didn't even have time to think oh crap before the monster whirled on me. I held my breath and froze; maybe if I didn't make another noise the hellhound would get bored and go back to rooting around in the rotting garbage.

Needless to say, I wasn't that lucky. The beast put its nose to the ground and started sniffing, taking about two steps before it was right in front of me. I fingered my knife, waiting for it to back off so I could take a breath, when its snot-covered nose brushed my arm.

Now I could think crap.

"Percy!" I yelled, rolling under the hellhound's strike and crawling between its legs. I drew my knife from my belt and lunged for the monster's back leg, but it leaped back and growled in my general direction. (It brought me some satisfaction, however small, to note that the beast's glare was a few feet to the left.)

I whipped off my hat so Percy wouldn't accidentally skewer me with his sword, which would suck to no end, and slammed back against the dumpster to avoid the chainsaw-sized teeth. I tried to pull myself on top of the trash heaps, to get higher ground, when the hellhound sank its fangs into my leg. I kicked my good leg out and tried to beat it off with my fearsome Converse. The mutt pulled me off the slimy dumpster and shook me like an oversized chew toy, gnawing on my leg like it thought I would squeak if it chomped hard enough. Instead, I screamed.

And then the teeth were gone, and the ground was rushing at me. I hit the pavement hard and howled again because gods, my leg was burning with white-hot pain and I'd landed in a puddle of something sticky and wet—possibly my own blood? I didn't know—and gods it hurt and I wanted to pass out but I couldn't, not yet.

Percy's sword clattered to the ground a few feet away and his hands pulled my hair back as I pushed myself up on my elbows and puked, which definitely did not make me feel better.

I shoved my hand in my jeans pocket, as long as I was thinking somewhat clearly, and pulled out my phone, which I tossed to Percy and sobbed, "Call…911."

"Not camp?" he asked while I rolled onto my back and my upper body fell on the pavement. I barely had the presence of mind to feel disgusted when some of my hair blew into the puddle of vomit. He pulled his shirt off and pressed it against my leg, which made me feel so much pain that for a few seconds I blacked out, completely beyond the point of screaming. Even in my dizzy state, I could feel his hands shaking.

"No," I said, and swallowed back the bile welling up in my throat. "Won't…make it." I whimpered and squirmed as Percy's hands pressed harder on my leg; why wouldn't he stop? It hurt so much…

"Annabeth, I swear if you die on me now I'll hunt you down in the Underworld and kill you again," he growled through gritted teeth with the phone pressed to his ear.

What had he said? I lifted my head to ask and caught sight of my lower body. Why had I put on red jeans this morning? Did I even own red jeans? I must, because the color reminded me of blood…blood…gods, I was dizzy. Why did the thought of blood put a twist in my stomach? And why was Percy yelling into the phone? Why was he so worried? I felt extremely light-headed, yes, but why was that so bad?

My eyes slid shut, and Percy grabbed my arm, shaking me and telling me to stay awake, but I was so tired, I just couldn't do it, my eyes were so heavy…

My head rolled to the side as my consciousness gave way to blissful sleep.

O-o-O

Cliffie! Oohhh…

Okay, this was done sooner than expected. Also, just decided to put my own personal sob story out there: I run cross country and recently found out that my knee is really messed up and I won't be able to run this season. Thankfully it's nothing serious, so I just have to do physical therapy and not surgery.

Sorry about the babble there. Review?